Those who know me know I’m all for women of all shapes and sizes being proud of and flaunting their curves.
The thick girls on South Beach who strut their scantily cladded jiggly bits? Go on’ wit yo bad self. The round-the-way-girls poured into skinny jeans so tight the pants look painted on? Hey, more power to you. But I think I found my line in the sand.
It came at my son’s swim class.
It was the first day of class and we were running uncharacteristically early. We walked into the ladies locker room, peeled off our clothing to the layer of bathing suits that were underneath. I glanced up to look for the showers when I was greeted by an olive ass. Really. A sun-kissed but distinctly olive butt cheek.
Now you might not think this, but when it comes to nudity in public places I’m a prude. In high school gym, I still changed in the bathroom. As an adult, I never shower in my gym. I love naked bodies on TV, in pictures or even on stage. But generally not regular naked bodies near me. Again, American prude.
So though I winced at her bare cheeks that sandwiched her G-string, I told myself to buck up and just deal, this woman was simply in the middle of getting dressed after her swim. Stop being such a Pollyanna.
Ethan and I hopped in the shower and giddily headed to the pool. It was a big class with about 15 other parents. (And at least a third of them were guys, which struck me as odd since in Chicago there was rarely another dad in such a class and when there was a dad, the mom was always present too.)
While in the midst of a rousing rendition of the Hokey Pokey, I was turning myself around and caught a glimpse of something familiar. It was the same bare, olive buttocks I saw in the locker room.
The mom next to me was sporting a G-string bikini. In class. Just booty. All out. In the class with the babies.
At that moment, I completely forgot how to do the Hokey Pokey. All I could see were these bare cheeks turning themselves around and that’s what it was all about.
I finally stopped staring at her ass and we finished out the class without much fanfare. Once I got home, I did what any other normal person would do in such a situation. I hopped on Facebook to give a status update:
Ethan and I went to our first swim class today. One mom was there in a G-string. I mean, really.
And I loved the responses. My girlfriends tried to make sense of the situation:
Was it an outdoor pool? Maybe she thought she could kill two birds with one stone — get a tan and help her child learn how to swim.
At least it was a mom and not a dad. See? There IS a silver lining.
Epic Mommy fail. It’s swim class, not the club.
Whereas my guy friends were more than intrigued by the G-stringed mama.
I don’t see the problem.
So your husband will be doing swim lessons moving forward??
Is enrollment still open?
Where’s a photo?
What I didn’t have the heart to tell the guys was that, though bare this buttocks was, it wasn’t a buttocks you’d want to see bare. It was dimply and so flat it was saggy. It was a real woman, a mother’s ass.
Not a Heidi Klum bum, but a I’ve-birthed-a-baby-and-don’t-have-energy-to-go-to-the-gym ass.
Two days later, it was time to return to swim class. I admit, I was curious if she’d wear her G-string again. We arrived early again and no ass. We got in the pool. No ass. Then all the parents created a big circle to sing Wheels on the Bus. When it came time for the windows on the bus to go up and down, I realized the cute squealing baby next to me belonged to Ms. G-String.
Naturally I glanced down to see if she was flossing the dental floss. Alas no, it was a skimpy bikini bottom. Instead of seeing her full cheek, she was just gracing the class with about a quarter of each cheek.
(Can you believe I’m going into so much detail about a woman’s derriere? Me neither.)
Anyway, we talked for a bit and she’s very, very nice. I’m just glad that I now can recognize her by her face because I want to chat it up with her at the next swim class.
And let’s be honest, a woman who is so scantily clad at your kids’ swim class clearly has interesting stories to tell.