Simon and Paula help me buy a bathing suit

This summer, I was forced to do the unthinkable - something that every woman dreads – particularly in the Frumpy Zone: bathing suit shopping!
It’s been two years since I’ve bought a bathing suit, and I could no longer squeeze myself into my too-small suits without risking some serious “wardrobe malfunctions.”
Normally, bathing suit shopping is a lonely endeavor. This traumatic event is the only shopping excursion that women never, ever share. Unfortunately, because of our family’s hectic schedule, I had to take my two youngest children with me so I could find a bathing suit before our 3 p.m. date with Richmond’s summer sunshine at the pool.
Dragging my kids through Macy’s at the Virginia Center Commons Mall toward the bathing suit racks, I braced myself. I had no desire to be squashed in the dressing room with my wilted self-esteem and my two children.
Grabbing a handful of colorful suits, I retrieved my “helpers” from under the nearest clothing rack, and headed to the dressing room. To encourage my squirmy children to stay quiet, I gave them each a job. Six-year-old Allen was the “judge,” and would give me the final yes or no about my choices. (Little did I know, but he would be worse than Simon from “American Idol.”) Four-year-old Julianna would be my “hanger lady” and put the bathing suits on the “good hook” or the “ugly hook.”
As I squeezed into suit after suit, my son would make the observation: “Mama, I think your butt is just too big for that one.”
Thanks, kid. Maybe the lady in the next dressing room could use some advice.
But Julianna, my own personal Paula Abdul, would say, “Mama, you look hot like a rock star.”
When I would find a suit I almost liked, I would ask, “What do you think?” The first thing out of their mouths was, “Can you get it on and off easy?”
Hmmm, that’s great advice. Perhaps I needed a bigger size to fit over Mount Buttmore.
So we headed to Penney’s, where I swallowed my pride and chose suits that could get past my hips. Ten discarded suits later, my bathing suit consultants and I finally found a suit that suited. It met the major requirements:

• It was easy to get on and off.
• It was on the “good” hook.
• It made me look “hot like a
rock star.”

Lighthearted, I realized that my young fashion consultants/future American Idol judges made what is typically a depressing experience actually fun. Perhaps I can hire out their services …

Colleen R. Lee lives in the Frumpy Zone in Richmond with her husband and three kids. She can be reached at frumpyzone@yahoo.com.