The skilled information to choosing the right swimsuit
They say you can fool all of the people, some of the time, and some of the people, all of the time – but you can’t fool anyone when you’re wearing a swimsuit. My body and I have a complicated history, but I’ve made peace with it.
It’s far from being a perfect beach body, but I don’t let my hang-ups keep me off the beach. I live in Margate, and I love swimming, but when it comes to swimwear I don’t prioritise looking good – I’m thinking about what’s easy to get in and out of, under a Dryrobe.
Now, however, with holidays on the horizon, I’m thinking about venturing beyond my local coast – and wondering whether it’s worth investing some time and money in serious swimwear.
After all, I’m happy to spend significant sums on a new dress, even though I don’t need that to be anything like as supportive and flattering as a swimsuit. I’ve just dropped three figures on hiring a Zimmermann dress for my book launch, but on holiday in Sicily last year, I wore the same swimsuit nearly every day for two weeks. It cost about £20 and it was a panic buy from M&S – I grabbed it when I was picking up a bottle of prosecco and a birthday card. Surely this year I can do better than that?
At 39, I’m not sure I can get away with something from a supermarket any more. My body might not be in the first flush of youth – but as well as having a bigger bottom, I have a slightly bigger budget. The perfect swimsuit for me must be out there somewhere – if I’m prepared to search. It’s not easy to try on endless swimsuits, but I had a feeling that it would be worth the effort. Read on to find out what I discovered…
STRAPLESS
This pale blue bandeau designer suit by Melissa Odabash (£248, odabash.com) is beautiful. It looks expensive and it’s the sort of thing I’d want to wear if I was somehow invited to spend my summer lounging around on a billionaire’s yacht. I can’t wait to try it on. I step into it and pull it up. And up. And up. I’m sad to say that it’s not especially flattering, and it doesn’t feel good, either.
Even if it looked incredible, I’d reject it on the grounds that it’s anxiety-inducing. I’m convinced it’s going to fall down. So, I try a bandeau suit at the other end of the price spectrum – an £18 olive green one from George at Asda. The bead detail allows it to punch above its weight. It looks too luxurious to be a supermarket piece. Another point in its favour is that it comes with detachable straps. This suit is much more flattering for my cleavage. It’s supportive and it’s something I’d be comfortable sunbathing in. It helps that the fabric is thicker, too.
PINK
I have high hopes for a pink suit from lingerie brand Freya (£38, freyalingerie.com) – it’s underwired, and I hope the crossed straps at the back might give me a bit of a lift. In fact, the fastening is a bit too tricky for me. This might work for a glamorous beach holiday, but I can’t see myself wearing it for a quick dip in Kent. My waist seems to have disappeared entirely, swathed in pink fabric that makes me look shapeless. And where did my cleavage go? Like last year’s sunglasses, it’s lost, possibly never to be seen again.
I also try an extremely basic £10 Primark number (primark.com) – neon pink, Hunza G-inspired, with a high leg. Although I adore the colour, it’s not something I’d ever have thought to try. It looks comfy, but it’s all one layer, and there’s no special technology that’s going to pull me in or push me up.
I take a deep breath, pull it on and open my eyes, not expecting to like what I see. It’s almost perfect! The simplicity of the cut and the smoothness of the fabric is incredibly flattering. The colour pops. I feel happy. In fact, whisper it, I feel sexy! This is something I’d feel comfortable wearing on the world’s chicest beaches. It will work in Ibiza. It will work in Broadstairs.
NAVY
The next suit I try is a classic navy number from lingerie brand Panache (£80, panache-lingerie.com). I love the belt detail – it elevates the look, and it feels elegant and pulled together. The square neckline is classy, rather than sexy, but I suspect it’s universally flattering. If I was going on holiday with my family, this is the suit I’d pick. The belt enhances my shape and nips in my waist, but I don’t feel self-conscious or exposed. My cleavage isn’t going to alarm anyone.
The navy Melissa Odabash costume (£249, odabash.com) tells a different story. I love it on the hanger – especially the depth of the colour, and the tiny brass buckles on the straps. But this isn’t so much ‘Hello, boys’ as ‘Sorry, boys, it looks like I just missed you. I’ll be hanging around for a while, can you come back tomorrow?’ It’s giving me a beach body – but it’s the beach at the end of the day, filled with deflating Lilos and saggy rubber rings.
BLACK
I’ve heard good things about Boden swimwear, so I pick out a black suit (£70, boden.co.uk), with subtle ruching around the waist and, somehow, it makes me feel like Marilyn Monroe. I notice a layer of mesh at the back of the suit, to make sure everything looks smooth. Clever.
The halterneck gives me a gentle lift and I don’t want to take it off, but in the name of research I try another black suit – this time from Me + Em (£195, meandem.com). I’m excited because I love the brand. I honestly believe that when I’m wearing Me + Em trousers, I’m more powerful than Superman in his cape.
Sadly, the swimsuit does not make me feel like I can fly. In fact, my body suddenly seems very keen to obey the laws of gravity. Everything is pointing downwards. If I was wearing this in the water, I’d be afraid to emerge, in case I fell out. This doesn’t make me want to hit the beach. I’d sooner find an old-fashioned bathing machine on wheels.
RED
I try a bright red Melissa Odabash halterneck suit (£259, odabash.com) – it’s not the most flattering, but I love the design and the colour boosts my mood. My waist is defined, and I have a cleavage, but I feel contained. I could wear this without worrying that I’m accidentally going to flash the ice-cream man as he hands over my 99.
Then it’s on to the ruched suit from Calzedonia (£79, calzedonia.com). I can’t believe how good this is: I feel so sexy I could audition for Love Island. And so confident that I could probably persuade the ice-cream man to give me an extra flake.
Even though I’m nearly 40, this suit makes me feel a thousand times hotter than I did when I wore a bikini in my 20s. The ruching is incredibly flattering, emphasising the curve of my waist. Somehow, the sweetheart neckline gives me a classy cleavage. The straps are slim enough to be sexy, but wide enough to be supportive. And it’s not too high-cut but somehow it makes my legs look longer. This is The One – and I’ll never chuck a cossie in my trolley without trying it on again.
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