Bathing Suit Season

It's that time of year. The time of year when our thoughts drift into the dog days of summer. Leisurely mornings unencumbered by prodding the kids for school, late nights spent camping with dancing fireflies, your favorite brew quenching your afternoon thirst by the barbecue. Yes, it's getting to be the time of year many women dread. Bathing suit season.

Here in Morocco a woman has a lot of swim wear options. But, not quite as many as European women do. So, toplessness is a no-no. As is thong. However, you can blare The Thong Song at the children's Zara at Morocco Mall with absolutely no consequence. But getting back to the topic at hand, basically, almost anything goes. So, bikini, tankini, burkini. Whatever.

Wait, you don't know what a burkini is?

A burkini is the aquatic friendly equivalent to the burka. Not that some women don't go swimming with their everyday unaquatic friendly djellabas and head scarves on. Cause they do. But if you've ever swam with your clothes on, you may know that they really weigh you down and aren't conducive to real, actual swimming. And you know that from that time you were at that party and someone pushed you into the pool. Yeah, I heard about that.

So what do you do if you really want to swim and yet be fully and completely covered at the same time? You wear a burkini.

My friend Claire saw them at the Marjane (the Moroccan equivalent of Walmart, but crappier). Sara added that there are fitting rooms at the Marjane too. I know it sounds normal for a store to have dressing rooms, especially if you live in the states. But if you live here and shop at Marjane I bet you didn't know they had them either. After all, the olive bar is bigger and more prominently located than the dressing rooms. I was intrigued. And so I went to check it out for myself.



Sure enough, there it hung with its sassy peplum skirt that probably creates just enough drag in the water to really work your biceps while you stroke. I'm pretty sure that's why it's there. Oh, by the way, did you know that veiled women can compete in beauty pageants in Morocco? How's that for an oxymoron?

I found my size. But, I just couldn't get myself to use the sketchy fitting room made of plywood, guarded by an equally sketchy male security guard standing directly in front of it. Oddly, his presence made me feel less secure about taking off my clothes obscured only by a flimsy door right between the bread and the luggage. And the security guard.

But, I will not let the flimsy door, the security guard or the oxymorons win.

So, since it was reasonably priced. You know, in all my burkini comparison shopping. I bought it. And I'm pretty sure I'm totally going to get my money's worth out of it. Think about it. It solves a lot of problems. I don't need to shave. Or wear sunscreen. I don't have to shed those extra pounds I gained in Turkey. And I don't have to worry about tucking that damn dangling tampon string in. Oh yeah, I said it.

Problem solved!



But. Cause you know there is a but. The one glaring problem with the burkini? This modest swim attire does not come with a modesty lining. They do say that bare skin is a big turn on in these parts. Perhaps Moroccan men don't find the nipplage of a woman who has just swam in some cold water erotic. But, I would bet they do. And I bet it's far more of a turn-on than an uncovered shoulder. Or an exposed leg.



So modest? I don't think so. And do you know how ridculous the tan line around my face is going to look?