the bathers thing is a big deal. a) because we say 'togs' in brisbane because 'bathers' is a wanky melbourne thing, and b) because it suggests i'll be wearing them sometime soon.

of course, as soon as i bought the things the sun disappeared. that's crappy for a couple of reasons - The Squeeze is taking some time off so he can recover from the work overload of previous weeks, and wanted to spend a fair bit of time toddling about town taking photos. he can only take photos in the afternoon (it's a light thing). and it's been rainy and overcast all week, so he's not been out to take photos once. it's been nice having him home, but i really want him to go take photos of things other than me on the couch.

the other reason it's crappy? well, i'm less keen to go swimming now. oh well. guess it's like the raincoat thig - buy one and you can be assured of endless months of sunshine. maybe i should go buy a raincoat.

but the rain is good for the garden. work has begun on the uberherb garden. one garden bed has been weeded. by The Squeeze. we have a bunch of artichoke seedlings, i've plans for lemongrass, and there's a bunch of chamomile up. we need to get organised.

but back to the bathers.
thing is, i love to swim. i love it so much. i love it more than anything. comes from growing up in fiji i guess. but i bought some proper bathers for the first time in about 10 years. just a plain black one-piece with a zip up the back (so it has really sensible no-fall-off straps). the zip is tricky. i spent about 5 minutes huffing over it, trying to get the goddamn thing up in the changing room. then i tried the next size up and it was a fair bit easier. but still not actually possible on my own. oh well - will make many new friends at the baths i guess.

i am not sure i like the whole bathers thing. it's been a long time since my cellulite saw sunlight. and even though i'm steadily toning up, i do still jiggle distractingly. and the thing is not so good for the whole generous-bust look. it's a swimming costume intended for speed, rather than posing. kewl.

going in to buy it was scary. i went to a sportswear shop, looked at the rack for a few minutes (kind of empty this time of year) and decided that a) $80 was too much and b) surely it wouldn't be that hard to make bathers? but then i rethought. home-made bathers? perhaps too much even for me. ... perhaps.
so i went and found an absurdly fit and tanned young blonde creature and asked for help: "show me the cheapest, most practical togs you have". and she did. we discussed fabric, straps and how high cut they should be. i'm voting for full-body lycra, but they only come in sizes 2 - 5. i debated over a swimshirt (i worry about cancer - justifiably), but figured $40 was enough. i reassured myself with a quick check of the refund policy, then went and tried them on.

oh my.

it was a bit confronting. mostly because i was wearing my 'full brief' nanna undies under the togs (you have to keep your knickers on for hygiene reasons), and that's not the most practical of looks. the zip thing got me all hot and flushed and sweaty, and i almost gave up then. but i persevered. i thought about the range of body shapes and personalities at the brunswick pool. i reminded myself about all the pregnant women (i've never seen so many pregnant women in such a short space of time before), all the real nannas, all the mums, all the muslim girls in their real full body bathers, all the other academics trying to get in shape.

and i was strong.

i went to find the next size up. the blonde creature helped. surely my body's not that long? but it seems that width demands length in bathers - the fabric sort of redistributes itself from the ends to the sides.

success.

and all done in less than 20 minutes, one shop.

now all i have to do is wear the goddamn thing.