Wednesday, March 08, 2006
In the glaring limelight of neon called a Marshall's dressing room, Anna Bloviations, at age forty-six, in the unflinchingly unforgiving depth of winter paleness, tried on ten bikinis. Eight of them made me laugh out loud but two I decided weren't so bad. Usually I'm a one-piece girl but I've decided what-the-hell. We're going to Belize end of March. This will no doubt be the last time I can get away with a bikini and not look like an utter idiot. And actually, whether totally delusional or not, I rather fancy I don't look so bad in one. Or... more likely, perhaps we don't care anymore. Or... even more likely, we need new glasses.
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