Bikini Shopping i.e. Mission Impossible

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Random Banter

It’s summertime in Australia, which means one thing: bikini shopping. Just to clarify, bikini shopping is the worst kind of shopping, on par with buying skinny jeans. It is a truly dreadful task that involves hunting for two very small but very expensive pieces of material, which will cover only a very small portion of your body; a body that is by no means summer ready. (I really should have jumped on the Bikini Body Guide bandwagon 24 weeks ago along with everybody else.)

A new bikini has very strict requirements. It must hold in your lumps and bumps while simultaneously accentuating your lovely lady humps. This is by no means an easy feat, considering one’s lumps and bumps tend to be found right amongst one’s lovely lady humps. It must be both cute and sexy. It must be trendy but true to one’s style. Most importantly, it must make you look like Gisele Bündchen.

Yesterday, I set off to buy a bikini in my half-hour lunch break, a goal that proved impossible to achieve. This was a spontaneous shopping expedition meaning I had not fake-tanned prior, something I very much recommend you do before stripping bare in front of a badly lit change-room mirror that will miraculously turn you Jaundice yellow. I did, however, make the wise decision to hold off eating my lunch until after scrutinising my near-naked, bikini-clad body.

Once upon a time, bikinis (or is the plural bikini, like fungi?) were mostly sold in sets. Thankfully, someone out there eventually realised that very few women are perfectly proportioned, so tops and bottoms are now sold separately. Hence, I tried on the following:

  • 3 x triangle bikini tops (not quite right)
  • 3 x bandeau bikini tops (thumbs up)
  • 2 x halter bikini tops (sausage boob)
  • 2 x ‘cheeky’ cut bikini bottoms (HELL NO)
  • 1 x high-waisted bikini bottom (my biggest regret in life to date)
  • 3 x ‘brief’ style bikini bottoms (perfect)

The process took just over 45-minutes, and caused me all sorts of grief (don’t worry – I’ll spare you my body-woes). If trying to analyse your own body from an objective perspective isn’t hard enough, in comes the sales assistant at various intervals, and without any warning, to share her honest opinion. So there I stood, naked, hot and bothered, when cheery Mary-Anne comes in and suggests a one-piece. You, Mary-Anne, are a bitch. (FYI: in the case of bikini shopping, honesty is not the best policy. Thank-you, Mary-Anne, for pointing out the large purple bruise on my right hip. Like I hadn’t realised its presence soon after running smack-bang into a marble table that morning.)

I narrowed down my bikini selection to a specific style and colour (‘La Casita’ in blue), but there faced another problem: size. The bottoms fit perfectly. Small enough that they won’t come off in the ocean (it’s happened before), but big enough that they cover the majority of my bottom. (I had originally written ‘booty’ but that would have been straight up lying. I am no Beyoncé.) For the top piece, I fit perfectly between two sizes. I could squeeze into the smaller size with an increased risk of booby spillage, or float around in the bigger size with increased risk of full booby exposure – neither option being particularly ideal.

Coming close to the time of purchase, I eventually looked at the price-tags. That’s when I noticed the following: the smaller bikini top was $20 cheaper than the larger. I kid you not! Have you ever heard of such a thing? They tried to fool me into paying $20 extra for just 2 more centimetres of fabric, equating to $10 per centimetre. How absurd! So that was the decision maker. I walked out $20 richer, and with a near-perfect bikini set.

Anyway, I’ll see you at the beach. I’ll be the girl in the ocean, unaware that her bikini top is floating towards Antarctica.


The Author

My name is Emily and this is a place where I write about all of the things I love (and sometimes the things I don't love). These things I love include all sorts of people: strangers, friends and family alike. And writing of course! I've never liked giving descriptions of myself, so you'll have to read my random banter in order to get to know me.


  1. I envy your ability to go bikini shopping, in England it’s strictly wooly jumpers and thermals right now! And in summer it never gets hot enough for long enough for me to bother with bikini shopping… Enjoy your beach days on my behalf please 🙂
    kudzi xo


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