Summer is depressing for those of us with body issues.
Low cut tops reveal too much crepey neck skin that is creepy. I try to cover all body parts that a chicken and I have in common.
Going sleeveless was a way to beat the heat until I checked out my upper arms. Some women have arm flab that poufs discretely below the elbow. My arm flab is friendly and outgoing.
Not content to hang quietly all the way to my armpit, it waves enthusiastically to everyone in sight. I eliminate another cool summer fashion.
Back fat is whole different matter. Mine requires its own foundation garment. The only way to obscure that flaw is to wear a man’s shirt. It’s tacky, but a quick solution.
The lower half of my body presents numerous challenges that require special attention. Knit fabric is a big “no-no”. After ten minutes of wear in heat and humidity, an unsightly camel toe comes out of hiding.
I eliminate easy care knits and proceed to cotton shorts or slacks. Shorts are out of the question as they magnify saddle bags and knobby knees I acquired yesterday. I am not six feet tall, so Capri pants make me look like a walking fireplug. I settle for long slacks that hide ankle fat.
As a veteran shoe hoarder, I suffer in the summer. Flip flops expose ugly toes and bunions. Expensive spa pedicures cannot hide all that should remain hidden. I am not coordinated or limber enough to bend and fasten the tie ankle wraps or teeter on the six-inch wedges. I exchange ugly feet for ugly athletic shoes.
At this point, I am left with little choice other than to focus on my inner character and rise above petty vanity. I decided to brave a trip to the mall in this depressing getup.
I was doing just fine, until a small tot wandered by, pointed at me and said in a thundering voice, “Look Mommy. Maxine!”
Next summer, I am moving to Iceland. Cold weather attire is so much more attractive.
Categories: Biased, Unbalanced and Politically Incorrect
I am a lifelong Southerner, short story author, and essayist. Home is Dallas, Texas.
My essays have appeared in Flash Fiction Magazine, The Dead Mule School of Southern Writing.