Image may be NSFW.
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Image may be NSFW.
Clik here to view.
So my late twenties (wow, I still remember vaguely being eighteen) has just about rolled around with the arrival of 2016, and along with that, the advent of the one-piece bathing suit.
The thing about growing up and actually being an adult is that no matter what, it’s always a first time. A first time being twenty, a first time being twenty five or, like right now, on the verge of twenty seven. Some things in life are just meant to be understood as you experience it after that first time and then it all just makes sense (finally).
As I carted out my third one-piece bathing suit just a couple of months ago, I realised, I had stopped looking at the skin-baring bikinis altogether and was fervently scrolling through the one-piece monokini sections desperately looking for something that would tickle my fancy. Well, the only ones that did were these covered up bathing suits suited (pun-intended) for full-bodied women that once upon a time I would have felt were a dastardly waste of money because they looked so simple. But, you know, things change.
Image may be NSFW.
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One-piece Swimsuit: ClubCouture
Hat: Klarra
Which reminds me of the time when I was nineteen or twenty, still in my club-going, cleavage flashing decadent youthful years. My spirited motto then was “If you have it, flaunt it.” Juxtapose that with the current motto of “Keep it classy, Carrie!”
Back then, just those six or seven years ago, I had a windfall of second-hand, rather fresh-looking, sleeveless Zara work tops and I had quizzically asked my Godsister why she didn’t want them anymore. She explained that she bought them when she was younger and now that she was a little older, she didn’t quite like wearing them anymore and preferred sleeved tops. They weren’t the least bit provocative with a high boat neckline, just sleeveless, but alright, who was I to complain about getting new, albeit second-hand, clothes? I ended up with at least half a dozen of those tops and well, I was just starting work and had an extremely small pay cheque, so they came in handy. No further questions asked.
Now I totally get it.
It’s not quite just about being conscious of the changes that my body goes through. That I can get used to and still strut it quite confidently in a sleeveless, cleavage-baring outfit or shorter skirt. (Of course, some days are always exceptions, I am but human.) I just slowly grew to appreciate a new aesthetic. How did this happen? It beats me. I just gravitated towards this “conservative” style (in comparison of course to the bare-it-all approach of my youth) as I inched closer and closer to my late twenties.
In the past, I felt understated, low-key outfits did no justice to my figure, making me look bulky and feel less confident about myself. On retrospect, the outfit wore me.
My style has evolved along with the development of my self-worth and it complements my quiet confidence. I think in a strange way, I am now empowered to just wear what I like, when I like. It doesn’t matter if it “suits my body type” or not, and makes me look dowdy and boring. If that’s what I think looks good and tasteful, I’ll be damned if I let what others think of my taste, stop me from wearing them.
So anyway, right now, that’s a crazy number of sleeved dresses and tops, midi skirts over mini skirts and a copious number of one-piece bathing suits that will turn a pin-up girl green with envy. Hello, late twenties, this shit just got real.
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