Trying to Jump in a Lake
A message to the swimsuit industry
This summer, I’ve decided to jump in the lake. There’s a big, beautiful lake minutes from my house and I haven’t been in it since my kids were little. A decade, at least, of thoughtlessly avoiding the pristine waters of my home place, ignoring what may be the perfect therapy. It’s time to change all that, so this year I have resolved to get in the lake and take the water cure.
I bought a state park pass and some water shoes, to protect the feet from slime and zebra mussels. And now, the last piece: A swimsuit. I have two old suits, both a size too small, so it’s time for an upgrade. My requirements are minimal, or so I thought — the suit must fit and be relatively comfortable. Good luck.
After hours of online shopping, researching, filtering, and snacking, here’s my conclusion: Women’s swimsuits are made for the gaze of others. They are not made for comfort or movement. They aren’t made for the unselfconscious dip in the lake. They are not made for me.
Here’s what I want: Coverage, because I’m fairly modest and still chewing on the toxic message that my body is not good enough; a light fabric that folds when and where I do; no attempt to shape or enhance anything. I imagine that swimming in my body is the thing that will feel incredible, the suit is an incidental…
