Dear Bathing Suit Top,
Hello, again. It’s been about a year since I’ve last seen you. I apologize for burying you in the depths of my drawers, but let’s face it, seeing you doesn’t exactly elicit the best of memories. Well, let me rephrase that. I fondly remember our days spent basking in the sun together, but I also remember all of the times you let me down.
I’m talking about three things: spillage, spillage, and more spillage. Okay, so I get that you’re from Victoria’s Secret and you think that you’re a big shot, or whatever. But do you really have what it takes to be on top? Because frankly, I’d agree to disagree. When I’m splashing in the waves, I want security, not a free show for all. Those two things on my chest are nowhere near as tanned as the rest of my body, and I’d prefer it if they didn’t see the light of day or meet the eyes of others.
Is it too much to ask to dolphin dive under a wave without having to stay under water for extra time, “adjusting” myself? Good grief. Sometimes when I’m underwater, I feel like covert CIA Operations trying to get myself back into place before I emerge, attempted mermaid-style, from the dark blue abyss. There’s nothing to see here, folks!
I mean, really. Those little flat sponges are supposed to “cover” my chest? Better luck next time. Those things are about as protective as tissue paper. And boy, they’ve really got nerve, sliding around and moving about when I’m simply trying to play Chicken or Marco Polo. Let a girl live and be free…but not too free.
Okay, like, I get that showing a little nipple may be “sexy” to some people. But for me, I like to round things out versus getting straight to the point. I’m not trying to play peek-a-boo with a beach full of 50 year-old men in Speedos sipping Bud and stroking their chest hair. Gross. Or, I don’t need to expose myself to innocent children making sandcastles who may try to copy the shape of my chest as the peaks of their sand towers.
All I’m saying is just work with me a little. I bought you for a reason and want us to still hang out…er, hang “in,” preferably. Most of the time, you make me look great, but looks aren’t everything. I need comfort, security, support, and confidence. Most importantly, I need loyalty. Stay loyal to me, bathing suit top, and I can show you the world.