This weekend we went to the beach, Juquehy to be exact with some of Alex's schoolmates from Chicago that also moved down here and have introduced us to a great little group of expats. As I prepped for our 6am departure to beat all the traffic mongrels I was trying on bathing suits to figure out which one might be the smallest of them all so as to best fit in with the locals and my brazilianified buddies. Finally I had my pick and I was prancing around stuffing the beach bag when Alex walked in and preceded to compare my bathing fabrics to that of a diaper. Lovely, thanks for the vote of confidence.
About 5 months ago we had a heated discussion with my mother in law and some friends over how quickly I would buy a brazilian swimsuit aka "post-it notes on strings." Since everyone figured me for a pushover I stood my ground and stubbornly declared NEVER. I love my bottom covered and secure and I own wayyyyy too many swimsuits already, I wasn't about get another one, especially any smaller. They made a bet with a wager we now cannot remember but it doesn't matter, I like winning and I'm stubborn so I never felt this would be an issue. Not only did my husband take my bikini for an overstuffed absorbant pad but my new American and UK comrades thought me silly for being so defiant.
Wheres my white flag. Im defeated, the brazilians have won and therefore challenged me to decrease the extra and in the way? material and dispose of the diaper. Whatever conservative modesty I clung to in my move from the north has washed away deep into the Sao Paulo sea. I am now on the lookout next time mall errands are on the agenda for the best 3 inches of water wicking thread suitable for my next foray on the beach. I've never seen my husband happier over such a vacuous victory. I now even feel silly for ever worrying about it in the first place. Who cares? There might be a little extra space for skin cancer but the liberating adoption of something so vernacular to the beach scene here makes up for it. At least with brazilian swimsuits you dont have to worry about fitting it all in, its more about stringing it all up.
About 5 months ago we had a heated discussion with my mother in law and some friends over how quickly I would buy a brazilian swimsuit aka "post-it notes on strings." Since everyone figured me for a pushover I stood my ground and stubbornly declared NEVER. I love my bottom covered and secure and I own wayyyyy too many swimsuits already, I wasn't about get another one, especially any smaller. They made a bet with a wager we now cannot remember but it doesn't matter, I like winning and I'm stubborn so I never felt this would be an issue. Not only did my husband take my bikini for an overstuffed absorbant pad but my new American and UK comrades thought me silly for being so defiant.
Wheres my white flag. Im defeated, the brazilians have won and therefore challenged me to decrease the extra and in the way? material and dispose of the diaper. Whatever conservative modesty I clung to in my move from the north has washed away deep into the Sao Paulo sea. I am now on the lookout next time mall errands are on the agenda for the best 3 inches of water wicking thread suitable for my next foray on the beach. I've never seen my husband happier over such a vacuous victory. I now even feel silly for ever worrying about it in the first place. Who cares? There might be a little extra space for skin cancer but the liberating adoption of something so vernacular to the beach scene here makes up for it. At least with brazilian swimsuits you dont have to worry about fitting it all in, its more about stringing it all up.
Pic and "post it notes on strings" from Rachel's blog
