Faux Pas

I seem to have a penchant for discommodious faux pas and hence, I shall resort to sharing a past social blunder, merely for entertainment purposes for whom are stressed after a hard week's work.

Like most preteens, I had many extracurricular activities spread across my compact time schedule, which included the swim team (among others); like all the other preteens on the swim team, I needed multiple swimsuits so that I may wear one to Tuesday's event, while Monday's swimsuit was in the washer, and so on; and like most preteens, I was a miniature manikin for my mother who chose everything from the type of hairstyle I had to the design of the embroidery on my socks. So, after I enrolled in the Austin YMCA Swim Team, my mom immediately took the admittance as a greenlight signal to start shopping for the "perfect" swimsuits.

The first swimsuit she bought was a one-piece -- purple and made of velvet-- I didn't complain. The second was also a one-piece -- pink with white polka-dots-- Still didn't complain. The third was, again, one-piece -- pink with multi-colored rainbows stretched across every inch of the fabric -- I complained a little because it made me look ridiculous. Just hand me a big, red rubber nose to wear and I could definitely pass for an over-zealous circus clown. The fourth and last swimsuit my mom bought was a strapless two-piece -- teal-blue and black with ruffled fabric -- I COMPLAINED, but, of course, my mom wasn't going to return it because she liked it. So, at age 10, I wore my first strapless two-piece swimsuit.

Come Friday a few months later, I scavenge through my laundry looking for any of my other 3 swimsuits to wear to the competition. Failure prevailed. I was left staring at that teal-blue and black swimsuit in disgust; I probably wouldn't have hated it so much if it actually had straps for support.

Having won that night's swim meet remarkably, I was quick to jump out of the pool after the competition was over, forgetting that I was wearing that dreadful swimsuit. And the next thing I knew, half the audience was gasping. Apparently, I had lost my top to the greedy pool monster in that upward burst of propulsion. People ask me why I don't wear two-piece swimsuits nowadays, I'll tell you why: Bad Experience. At that point, I would have rather stood in front of the crowd in my multi-colored rainbow swimsuit wearing a big, red rubber nose doing the funky chicken dance whilst singing my ABC's than the status quo.