This summer will be different. I threw out my butch standard issue Speedo racerbacks. I’ve hit the point of no return. I didn’t swim at all last year. This year I’m swimming genderqueer. This year I am putting together, as Donna refers to it, a cockamamie swim outfit. Without the cock.
I’m only entertaining swimsuits that appeal to my masculine side. Everyone has an idealized version of what they want to look like on the beach. I have mine. Even if the style is 100 years old. Even if the original was made out of wool jersey, and the style was discarded when swimsuits started to be manufactured from modern materials. Continue reading