That’s an empty wish, for me. I’ve never been one to walk around with butt-bits and boobage hanging out. In spite of my big mouth, I’m actually rather shy.
But my sudden desire to be comfortable with nekkidness has nothing to do with wanting to expose myself. I just wanna save a buck.
Lee wanted camping gear for his birthday, the kind of man-tool stuff I wouldn’t pick out myself. So we went to the sporting goods store after his birthday dinner. While he was running around like a kid in a candy store, getting all giddy over lanterns and flint things to start a fire and camp soap, I wandered over to the bathing suits. Pool season is coming, and I’m much more suited to floating on a raft with a good book and a boozy beverage than I am to hacking my own pathways through the woods and starting campfires without a lighter.
There were actually two or three on the rack that I thought were cute, which is just shy of a miracle. I usually think bathing suits are butt-ugly or would look great – on someone else.
Then I saw the price tags. $70.00. They weren’t so damn cute anymore.
Hence, my halfhearted wish that I was the kind of girl who would be fine with swimming and pool-floating butt-nekkid. It is just really, really hard for me to imagine spending that kind of dough on what amounts to not much material at all.
Sure, there are cheaper bathing suits in other stores, ones that don’t pride themselves on being “sporty.” But see butt-ugly comment above.
Maybe I wouldn’t have run from that price tag if I had more play money. But somehow, I think the idea of blowing so much on a few scraps to hide my bits while I go swimming would still bug the crap out of me. It just seems like highway robbery.
Then again, I’m no more of a fashionista than I am a nudist, so what do I know?