Walking through the burning coals
Bare of check book and bare of soul
Take each suit from off the rack
Horizontal stripes—go back!
Searching, sorting, one by one
‘Til it seems I’ve bypassed none
With my arms piled high and full
Dragging steps lead me to the changing cubicle
All too soon reaching dressing room door
It seems I could delay no more
On bringing all in, the clerk does nix
So searching my pile, I take the first six
I go in, after being wished luck,
I search for some new long-lost pluck
Though my birthday suit’s no longer new—
I’m skinny dipping ‘til this search is through!
Here I am, the first suit’s on—
Moment of truth—conclusion forgone?
And so to the mirror my eyes turn, terrified
Yes my every flaw has just been magnified!
Who decided a bow should go right there?
Even compensating for underneath underwear…
No! Maybe this bikini will do the trick
Except the pale yellow color makes me look sick…
Here, this one’s better, the top looks nice
I won’t even worry about the high price
Now for the bottom, can it be lawful
For anything to make me look this awful?
Perhaps I should try this one piece suit
Attractive…except where they placed the fruit!
How could these suits make me look worse
Than out of some strange old voodoo curse?
Somehow, when fully dressed, I look rather typical
Though in these suits I feel like quite a bigger gal
In the latest contender, my thighs make me shudder
No words could describe, so I must mutter
To the clerk who asks how I am doing
It’s no Wheel of Fortune—no “Ah”ing or “Ooh”ing
In another store, the clerk’s far too busy
To help me sort through a selection so large, I feel dizzy
Here I am, Day Three Store Seven
It hasn’t been exactly a slice of heaven
More like from the other side
With gravity’s firm hold I must abide
Tried on almost everything, almost everywhere
Starting to feel as though I no longer care
Ready to settle for, “Well, it doesn’t look too bad”
With self-esteem knocked down a tad
My plain, bare skin’s seeming better by the minute
Than one of these suits when I am in it
I guess I can settle for this one right here
If I don’t take one single more look in the mirror
I can live with this tankini
Then live without much more linguine…
Credit card smoking, I am out the door
Looks like I will publicly swim once more!
**This account based on a true story. Jannica survived her experience, and has swum again publically after only a few therapy sessions.