one leads to the other

That previous post? With the gorgeous strawberries and chocolate and ice cream on a freshly made giant crepe/pancake? (Which, fyi, I did NOT make but indulged upon at a Dutch pancake house in a historic area of suburban Oslo called Baerums Verk.) Yeah, that would be why I had the problems I had today.

Namely: I had to buy a swimsuit and it was NOT fun. Here are reasons why swimsuit shopping sucked.

1. There are about 4 one piece swim suits in all of Norway. (Europeans generally do NOT wear them if they are under 50, it seems.) As I am tall, with a very long torso, a one piece suit that fits is pretty much a miracle of the seamstress art. They can only stretch so far! So, as I always have, I tend to go for bikinis.
   
2. It was late in the season and so, even if you found a bottom that fit, there was no TOP to go with it.
3. The chances of finding a bottom that fit were about 1 in 100, so when I couldn't find a top to match a bottom I was ok with, it was extra heart breaking.
4. While my general curviness remains as it always have, I will say that things are sort of rearranging themselves as I get older and so the flatness of stomach I have come to count on is, erm, uh, a little more rounded. Must do something about that. (Like not have chocolate strawberry ice cream crepes.)
   
5. A bikini top sized 'large' will generally be large around the back but maybe not so large in the actual cup area. (So let's say it fits a 38 to 40B to C.) My size would apparently be 'medium with extra boobage' (36 D to double D). Some of the tops I found just sort of floated around my body without actually offering any coverage, but if I went down a size there wasn't any top to actually cover, well, you know.
   
6. Those little 'hygiene strip' in the crotch of the suits are a conspiracy. They don't stick to the suit AT ALL, but remove themselves forthwith from the suit the minute they come near a human and attach themselves to skin like a little plastic adhesive leech, and suddenly become stickier than duct tape and it HURTS to get them off! Like, holy crap. They'd probably be great for waxing. Thank God I had underwear on. (Seriously, does anyone try on swimsuits without underwear? I mean, that's too gross to contemplate!)
   
7. A large in Norway ain't a like a large in the States. Asses here just don't have the largesse of a good home grown American butt. I miss home. God Bless 'Murca!
8. I would hate to be the person who has to put those damned suits back on the hangers. I mean, I tend to try on as many as possible at once to get it over with, and they are miracles of complex hanging, so getting them back on a hanger is akin to figuring out the law of gravity. Getting them OFF the hanger is hard enough. We should tip the girls at the swimsuit stores.
   

Anyhow, three hours, some tears, some cursing and a post-shopping large glass (or two) of wine later, I ended up with two cheap ass bikinis (one black and one red) that are for general hard use, one quite nice (expensive) bikini in a lovely blue peacock print that will be my "by the pool" suit, and one kinda-slutty, what the hell it's way on sale, black crocheted one piece that I am still not sure about but can't return.

God, I'd rather go to the dentist than buy a swimsuit. At least there you get novacaine and the good pain pills so you don't notice the agony!