I bought a wetsuit

Today I bought a wetsuit. This is in preparation for me partaking in such uber-cool sports as stand up paddle boarding, water skiing, sea kayaking and of course surfing. Well that goes without saying as we are now living on the Surf Coast. Of course I will be learning to surf. Of course. Well that is what I like to tell people it is for. In reality it is actually because the sea is a little bit too cold for my liking and I have heard there may be jelly fish in there.

So I have been thinking I should get myself a wetty (check me and my down with the locals lingo) since I am now the only member of the family without one and that means I can’t frolick in the water without my extremities (and intremities) turning blue.

So this morning we popped out quickly to one of the surf shops nearby (and there are actually quite a few, it being the surf capital and all), to have a quick try on of wetsuits. Have you ever done this? Had a quick pop to try on a wetsuit? Yes? No? No. The answer is NO. You haven’t. You haven’t because there is No. Such. Thing. This is because one can’t “quickly” try on a wetsuit. There is nothing “quick” about it. Because it is physically impossible to get one’s body into a wetsuit “quickly”.

Donning a wetsuit is at least a four hour ordeal. It takes time and patience and a whole lot of heaving and struggling and grunting and stretching and pulling and bending and jumping up and downing and wriggling and a bit more grunting and huffing and elbow banging on the changing room dooring and ‘can you come and bloody help me please’ing and ‘I can’t breathe’ing before it is on. And heaven forbid if you ever want to take it off again. Nope. Once it is on. That’s it. It’s not coming off. That’s the one you are buying because it is suctioned onto your skin due to the layer of sweat that has developed from the physical exertion of getting it on and the vacuum that you have created from all the huffing and puffing and there is no bloody chance you are going to get it off in the same graceful way that you slipped it on.

Actually I might be lying. I did have to take it off because horror of horrors; the super young, super cool, super gorgeous sales assistant (I think it is a prerequisite to work in the surf shops to be all three) had to take a look to see if it fit (and there was I thinking I could just get away with wearing it when nobody was looking) and decided that actually I probably needed a smaller size and it was too big. Um…what? Now it was actually my tactic to try on the largest size they had first because it would be so much less traumatic to work my way down to the correct size rather than up from fat to fatter to fattest. Although I didn’t count on it being such an ordeal to get on and off so a not very well thought out plan. However, I did look at him in disbelief when he produced one that looked like my first choice had been put on a boil wash. But all I was greeted with was a ‘nah no worries mate, it’s neoprene, it’s really stretchy’. So off I scuttled back to the change cubicle to attempt to remove wetsuit number one and get into wetsuit number two.

About a week later, I emerged from said cubicle, having had to peel the first one off inside out (and not without a fight, too big my arse) and for a second time heaved, grunted, pulled and wriggled my way into another. But with a final twang as it sealed around the neck, only slightly cutting off the blood supply to my brain, I waddled out to show that yes indeed they were right! This was the correct size. And yes, I would like to wear it home like a child with new shoes. Because there was no chance in hell it was coming off swiftly or easily and that was an ordeal I would like to keep for the confines of my own private bathroom thank you very much.

And I still have it on now. Because actually I have grown to quite like it. And I can tell the feeling is mutual. The children may have been a little embarrassed when I showed up at school pick up with it on. And the staff in the supermarket looked at me a bit funny when I lined up at the checkout. But I have become quite attached (and not just literally).

But seriously I have been marvelling at how great a wetsuit is going to be. Yes it is going to keep me warm but it is also so much more. It means I can go to the beach and not worry about shaving. I can wear a bikini and not care about my flabby bits because wearing a wetsuit is like wearing a full wrist to ankle bodycon (Gok would be proud) and there are no flabby bits. I can be carefree about my cellulite because hey what cellulite? You can’t see it. Therefore it doesn’t exist. They come in the best colour, black is the new black (eurgh imagine if wetsuits were white). And best of all I can pretend that I am Scarlett Johansson in The Avengers or such like superhero and commando role all over the sand to my heart’s content. And actually that reminds me. I could actually go commando to the beach under my wetsuit, because nobody will ever know.