My bikini body.

As I’ve been losing weight over the past 5 months, I have noticed some differences in my behavior. Smoothies are in my life an awful lot of the time. Burgers don’t happen nearly as often (Sigh). I’m not self-conscious about how my body looks when I run. In fact, I think I look pretty darn powerful…at least at the start of the run. My body moves more easily in dance classes. I’m the girl doing the most powerful moves instead of the modifications.

And the biggest behavior change? I wear a bikini instead of a one-piece bathing suit.

The bikini! The Freya Marimba!
I thought about putting up a photo of me in the bikini, but I’m not quite there yet. Soooo, just imagine my head on this lady. It’s about 93% accurate. Yep.

I have never done this before. Through my entire adult life, I relied on the “vintage, retro, curvy, one-piece” look to get me by, and it’s been fine. Hell, it’s been pretty darn sexy at times. But I always envied my friends in their cute, colorful, little bikinis. And you know what’s a lot easier to do in a bikini? Go to the bathroom. I needed to get a bikini.

So, now that I am more comfortable in my body, I went out and bought a ridiculously expensive bikini that fits me juuuuust right. Lounging in it while watching episodes of “Game of Thrones” on my computer was great, but finally I decided I needed to get out there and show it off. But what would happen? Would people see my white, soft belly and laugh? Cry? Explode? Be so traumatized that they’d never go to the pool again?

Nope. They saw a girl in a bikini who was swimming her butt off.

I spend so much time being uncomfortable in my body. I pinch the fat on my thighs and sigh. I compulsively look around the room in exercise classes to see if I’m the fattest person. I have shed tears over my arms, my stomach, my chin and definitely, definitely my boobs. Even when friends or boyfriends have told me how much they like a part of me, I discount their opinions. They have to be nice, right? They can’t actually mean it.

But you know, my body is my body. How dare I hate something that has given me so much joy? My legs pump my bike’s pedals, even if my thighs are a bit larger than I’d like. Even with the jiggle, my arms can still hold a million grocery bags at once so I don’t have to make more than one trip from my car to the kitchen. The small of my back is the perfect place for a man to rest his hand as we dance. And my boobs and butt? Well, they come in handy every so often. There is so much joy to be had with my body the way it is now, not the way it’ll be when I’m 10 or 20 pounds lighter.

Why wait any longer to enjoy it? It’s time to jump in the water, whether my body is “perfect” or not. Who gets to choose perfect anyway? No one is there to judge me. No one cares. The only person who wants to make fun of me is myself. And that’s not very nice of me.

I’d rather be swimming.

Shopping at Forever 21…when you’re not 21.

I like bargains. I like clothes. I like silly accessories. I like ridiculous nail polish. I like shopping.

Hence, I like Forever 21.

(I’d like to point out that I don’t like lax child labor laws or the philosophy of disposable fashion, but let’s forget that for this post, shall we?)

I had the shopping bug this weekend, but I can’t spend all that much money, so I figured sequestering myself in Forever 21 would be a safe thing to do. Seeing as how pretty much everything there is under $20, I couldn’t damage my credit rating too much.

But here’s the thing. Trying to shop as a “classy”, 26 almost 27 year old at Forever 21 is a challenge. Hell, I’m not very strict about my “classy” label anyway. Do the clothes cover the parts that need to be covered so I don’t get arrested walking down the street? Classy enough for me. The problem is, I have a very, um, womanly figure. I always have. My curves — they don’t quit. BAM. Forever 21 can have a hard time keeping it all under control. Amazingly, the t-shirts that fit their mostly under 16 year old audience just don’t keep the chest of doom in check. Weird. Still, I can usually find a piece or two that will work.

This is what I found this weekend.

Unlike the regular mullet, this dress is party in front, business in back.

Who thought a high-low/MULLET dress was a good idea? Straight, normal, even hems are passe now? Really? Thank you for making otherwise cute dresses into something that looks like it got caught in the dryer in a weird way.

The classic neon green, cut-off short shorts. A must in every lady’s closet.

Who DOESN’T need a pair of these shorts?! How many times have I bemoaned the lack of neon green, cut-off Daisy Dukes in my closet. I get invited to all those rave hoe-downs, and I never have anything to wear!

Less shirt, more fun!

You know how I’m always looking for a shirt that will show off my entire stomach? Forever 21 knows. They know, and they’re coming to my aid. Make it neon with a horribly fake general “ethnic” print, and it’s perfect. Throw in some high waisted shorts, and wow. Just…wow.

A “halter top”. Yes. That is how this is advertised.

Was that cropped tank too much fabric for you? Then enjoy this bra…I mean…halter top. It comes in faded denim, for extra class.

 

All one piece! Like gas stations attendants used to wear!

And ohhhhh the jumpsuit. Can someone explain to me how you pee in this thing? Like…do you have to take the whole thing off? Is there a secret hole…or something? The mind boggles.

I did end up finding a cute skirt that is only a little bit too casual/short for a 26 year old, but meh. At least it doesn’t have sparkles/neon/stupid text/random holes cut out of it. That’s all you can really ask for.

How to: Survive a trip to Target on a Sunday

Step 1: Pull into the parking lot. As you do so, make sure to not hit other cars, pedestrians or objects. Yes, the Acura cutting in to your lane deserves a good tap, but the ensuing ruckus will probably delay the rest of your trip.

Step 2: Circle the parking lot at least three times looking for a space. Wait for a SUV to pull out, but first watch them pack all of their bags, their three misbehaving toddlers, two strollers and one chihuahua in to the car. Repress the urge to scream profanities. That’s not the family friendly Target way.

Step 3: Find the Target entrance closest to your car. Don’t lose hope if you first walk into JC Penney or another large, confusing department store. Don’t get distracted by the shiny things in these stores. They are not for you, lowly Target shopper.

Step 4: Enter Target and choose a shopping cart. Do not get attached to this shopping cart. It will be one of many that are stolen from you over the next 40 minutes. Keep all your valuables ON YOUR PERSON. Seriously.

Step 5: Try on jeans. Have meltdown when jeans make you look like the most muffiny muffin top ever. Quickly re-evaluate plans to try on bathing suits. Swear off eating for at least three weeks.

Step 6: Attempt to not mow down fellow Target shoppers with your cart. Children will make this step difficult, as they throw themselves in front of your wheels. Just do your best. If one or two have to be hit, well, you tried.

Step 7: Pass Easter candy aisle. Decide that if you don’t eat anything else for three weeks, you can still eat Cadbury eggs and lose enough weight to fit the jeans mentioned in step 5. Put three bags in the cart. Easter candy is a limited time event!

Step 8: After finishing the rest of your shopping, proceed to the cashier area. You can identify the cashier zone by a mob of people milling about in no particular line structure. Wait at the end of a line for about five minutes before realizing that it is just a large family who have decided to stand near the front of the store. Find a real line. Watch all other lines move faster than yours. Make the best out of a bad situation and read all the articles in the tabloids about the Kardashian divorce.

Step 9: Get to the front of the line. Turn down the Target visa card offered to you by the sullen 17 year old cashier. You will be overcharged for at least two items, but don’t worry about this now, as you won’t read your receipt until you get home. Marvel at how much money you can waste in one trip to Target! It’s dazzling!

Step 10: Leave Target. Take at least fifteen minutes to find your car in the huge parking lot. Pack up the car and head out. Congratulations! You have successfully completed a trip to Target on a Sunday.  Spend the next week recuperating and eating Cadbury eggs. Plan to go to Target on a weeknight next time, but know deep down inside that you’ll end up there on a Sunday…as always.