Nothing brings fear into the hearts of women—especially women who ate their way through the holidays—than the knowledge that in a few short months they’ll be, once again, trying to cram themselves into the worst reality check device in history: “The Bathing Suit.”
If you’re one of these women, you know that it’s all fun and games—and food—during the winter months, where you and your extra pounds can go incognito under oversized sweaters and bulky coats. But when that abundant consumption of muffins leaves you with a muffin top, it’s time to do something about it before the top button of your jeans shoots off like a rocket into galaxies unknown.
Of course, if you’re like the majority of us, you have the greatest of intentions; deciding to start your diet and exercise program as soon as possible. Next week in fact, right after you go to that big party that’s sure to soar you into a dress so large it could double as a parachute.
So fast forward to June, and you’re fatter than you were in February. All of those good intentions got washed down the drain along with the soda, creamed cheese, and hollandaise sauce you clandestinely consumed. And now you’re left with the raw truth that can’t be avoided, or covered up with a “Big Shirt”—you’ve packed on pounds like your storing up for Armageddon.
You’ve resigned yourself to the fact that you have no hope of stuffing yourself into that adorable, little bathing suit you bought back in January, to “inspire you” to get in shape. With that in mind, you head out into the cold, cruel world of bathing suit shopping.
You enter the store and wince, while you quickly walk past the string bikinis that are even too tiny for your cat to wear with any decency. Then, you head straight to the section where one-piece skirted suits, with “Turbo Tummy Tightening” designs hang out.
After picking out a suit that looks like something your grandmother would wear, you head into “The Chamber of Horrors”—otherwise known as the dressing room. You convince yourself that all you’re going to do is see if you can fit into the insipid suit—without looking at the mirror--then get the heck out. But unfortunately you can’t just stop there, you have some unreasonable need to sneak a peek at your reflection, because who knows—maybe the suit will make you look thinner...
Well, that was a mistake now wasn’t it; the bathing suit certainly did not make you appear svelte, as the tag that trumpeting the power of the “Turbo Tummy Tightening” design promised, but instead, made you look like a sausage ready to burst. Add to that, not only the infamous dressing room lighting—lighting so bad that it would make most supermodels never want to appear in public again, but also the three-way funhouse mirrors the store so nicely provided you with. If they want to sell clothes—especially bathing suits—they need to very install dim lighting and “Instant Airbrush Mirrors” (imagine the fortune to be made with that invention).
Irritated beyond all reason, you change out of the suit, charge out of the store, and go home to sulk over a plate of sugar cookies, and a milkshake.
Sort of like Ebenezer Scrooge, you’ve just been visited by a ghost—the Ghost of Christmas Pounds—to give you a possible glimpse into your future if you don’t change your calorie consuming course now. Speaking of Scrooge, how many pieces of fudge did you put away while you watched it this past Christmas season anyway?
Just some fat-free food for thought, for the month of February. ;)