Bikini Torture

SIGH.

Last weekend saw a momentous and slightly traumatic event: the first bikini outing of 2012. Surprising as this may sound for someone who lives in perpetual sunshine,  I haven’t actually worn a bikini in full public view since last November. I’ve had a few balcony outings but it’s been too cold (30 degrees) to fully disrobe and prance around a beach club. 

And boy oh boy had I forgotten how brutal it feels. Due to regular running, healthy eating and cutting back on the booze, I’m actually in better shape than I’ve been for a long time, and at my pre-Dubai weight. But there’s something incredibly cruel about stripping off and standing semi-naked in the bright sunshine when you’ve been under wraps for five months. Even worse when you have to walk the streets nonchalantly in your bikini to collect your paddleboard from a twelve year old with a body like Abbey Clancy. Sigh. 

There are a few things you can do to ease this pain: lashings of fake tan, a flattering bikini, good posture and a whole load of chutzpah.  Failing that, wine helps. Failing that, surround yourself with fat friends. 

ONLY JOKING SLIM FABULOUS CHUMS!!!!

See? Brutal. I’m off for a run.