Tag: pool

How I learned the high price of lying.

Categories MemoirLeave a Comment on How I learned the high price of lying.

For young children, the line between what they hope is true and what they know is true can blur. This is probably a gradual process for most, but for me it came all at once, with a painful splash.

When I turned 5, I began kindergarten and my mom enrolled in college. Among the benefits to me was better access to recreational classes, like swimming. I already loved the water, but lessons made it even better. The pool even had diving boards. One was low, and the other went up forever.

At some point I learned to dive, and began diving off the low board repeatedly. My mom would watch me to my delight, though it must have been boring watching the same moves over and over.

One day I ran to her and told her she’d missed a great dive. She asked if I’d gone off the high diving board. I don’t know what possessed me, but I said, “Yes”. I immediately wished I could take it back. She said something like, “Oh, I missed it.” I don’t know if she prompted me to “do it again”, or if it was my own idea. Either way, for some reason, I thought that if I simply did the deed, my lie would become a truth. And so off I went, wet feet splattering water everywhere, toward the high dive.

My mom must have thought that faced with that prospect of doing anything from that height, I’d own up to my lie. Years later she shared that she had watched me go, thinking that I’d turn around at any moment. She watched as I climbed up the ladder…and up…and up…and got to the diving board, and stood at its edge. And she thought I’d turn around. But I never turned around. I was doing this. I dove off.

That dive was the most painful of my life. I attempted to do a shallow dive, but my chest and legs hit at an angle that made it feel like more of a belly flop. It felt like death by a thousand slaps. I resurfaced quickly but the pain made it hard to catch my breath. Eventually I did catch my breath. I swam over to my mom and confessed that it was actually my first time off the high dive.

It was a good lesson. Sometimes it’s easy to think that if we say things and believe them hard enough, they’ll be true. But it’s good to have a reminder that it doesn’t really work that way.

I’m a sucker for the sparkles.

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This is the story of how I ended up buying a flashy beach cover-up that has no business being seen at my neighborhood pool, let alone on me, and that I am unlikely to wear. Ever.

Blue smoky puffs waft through pale, diaphanous fabric. Metallic silver and gold threads run its length. The threads are exactly like those of my favorite shirt as a teen – four decades ago. That shirt was plaid. Yes – metallic threads in a plaid pattern. You’d think no one would try that, but they did, and I wore it. I wore that baby out.

Fast forward to a dressing room this June, as I try on this new number. The phrase about not wearing a trend twice flits through my brain. Whatevs. I let that thought pass through and keep on going. Yoga skills. This cover-up has a few rows of small ruffles towards the ends of the sleeves, and a flirty flounce that looks like scalloped edges a few inches above its hem. Ruffles aren’t really my thing in a cover-up, and small ruffles on sleeves aren’t really my thing anytime. But the shimmery threads tug at me.

I’ve shared my story of pool bling, so you know I’m a sucker for the sparkles even without the aforementioned shirt nostalgia. I try to put it in the “Nope” pile, but I know it will forever be “the one that got away”. Other thoughts flitter through my mind. This beach cover-up is not compatible with any bathing suit I own. It’s more than a little impractical considering my pool hours are spent at the neighborhood pool, not a resort in Baja or Bali. No matter. I convince myself that it would look great on a cruise or on some Caribbean beach. Neither is in my immediate future, but either could manifest…if I just had this cover-up to inspire me to action.

Fast forward to my home this July. Each day I walk into my closet and see this cover-up sitting in limbo, waiting to be worn or moved into a drawer with the other beach wear. Each day I think, “I like you, but no, today is not your day.” I know if it takes up residence in the drawer I’ll never wear it. So I move it to a dress form. Maybe seeing it on display will increase its chances of being worn. Au contraire…I’m confronted instead with stark reality.

Someone experienced in design could put better words to it, but in layman’s terms this cover-up is a hot mess of design elements. It’s like a cooking challenge where you get a basket with caviar, chocolate bars, nectarines, and broccoli and you’re supposed to make a cohesive meal with it. Each is good, but together?? Seeing it on the dress form I realize this cover-up has some great attributes, but the whole is less than the sum of its parts.

Now I’m faced with the inevitable question…

What am going to do with this thing?!

The summer is officially over, and I never did wear it. Do I keep it, put it in the drawer and hope that one day I’ll want to wear it more than today?

Or maybe cut my losses and donate it? There’s someone out there that would love this and may actually have occasion to wear it.

Or maybe take scissors to those sleeves…Could getting rid of those ruffles do enough?

What would you do? Drop a line in the comments, I’d love to know!

Pool Jewelry: You can take the girl out of Jersey…

Categories Memoir2 Comments on Pool Jewelry: You can take the girl out of Jersey…

When I was a teenager, it never occurred to me to take my jewelry off before going to the beach or pool. You weren’t dressed without plenty of jewelry and dark black waterproof mascara. Jersey. What can I say?

I carried that tradition well into adulthood. I wore irreplaceable jewelry to beaches and pools everywhere I went. I just got lucky that I left with what I’d come with, and that the pieces weren’t worse for wear. In recent years, though, I’ve been buying inexpensive pieces I consider “pool jewelry” every once in a while. They sparkle and offer the bling factor without damaging the good stuff. They make me so happy!

Why don’t I leave jewelry home altogether? It’s not that I want to look a certain way, or that anyone else cares. I just really enjoy seeing anything sparkling in the sun with the water’s reflection. Nothing looks as good as fingers gliding through the water in front of you with freshly painted nails and glistening rings. It’s a whole experience. The rest of my pool wear is usually pretty toned down. I’m sure no one even notices my pool jewelry, and I like it like that.

My younger self would have been aghast at the thought of separate pool jewelry. That girl believed her life and future pool experiences would resemble the 1980’s Chanel No 5 commercial that bid her “share the fantasy”, a sleek gold-threaded coverup discarded here, a high heel sandal placed just there, a black bathing suit, and perfection all around. I had no idea that the commercial’s director – Ridley Scott – was offering me a fantasy as unlikely to come to fruition as any scene from his Alien films. It all seemed attainable.

One of the pleasures of growing up is that I’m not so wedded to a larger fantasy. It frees me to enjoy experiences for their own qualities instead of their congruency to an overall vision. Sure, I love diamonds, and they have their place. But I can also appreciate crystals that sparkle in the sun in a place that’s shared with others having their own good times. I still do like the idea of that Chanel pool. But I love watching families at Reston pools playing with their children, hearing them giggle and remembering those younger family days in my not-so-distant past. The girl I once was would have grabbed the solitary pool scene any day. The woman I’ve become thinks that might be fun for an afternoon, but it could never be as rich as my real life.