better known by it's common name: bathing suit shopping.
Anyone who knows me, knows I joined Weight watchers, lost weight and am jogging 10 K three times a week. What is the next step you ask? Ah yes, squeezing my bum into a new suit. You might imagine, from the previous sentence that this would be like a reward, or at worst an okay experience...think again!
So off to Sport Chec I go (I'm also cheap so not boutiques for me). What is it about those change rooms? Are they especially designed to highlight every bump and blemish on your behind? Why are the rooms so small? For that matter, why are the suits so small? The one I ended up buying is a medium. Medium???!!! It's not even a medium square of toilet paper. If you were in the lou, noticed you were out and called to the next stall, "Hey, can you hand me a medium sized bunch of paper please?" and she gave you paper the size of this suit you'd be upset (and you'd have to wash your hands).
Here's how I eventually ended up picking one. If I sort of squinted, imagined that my stretch marks don't exist, that I actually always clench my butt cheeks and that the hail damage on my bum is Britney's not mine...it looks okay. Oh and it was the one on sale. Ding, ding, ding...we have a winner!
Now to find a pair of board shorts wear over it so I don't cause anyone permanent retinal damage.
Good luck to the rest of the non-super model moms out there who just want a decent suit to wear to the beach with their kids. I wish you well!!