Monday, September 10, 2012

Girls Gone Wild on the Beach ~ In Slenderizing Swimsuits

Toby and Toba On the Beach
For girls (better yet, young women), going wild on the beach means sand, sun, surf, spirits and... men. For those of us past our string bikini prime, the recipe for a wild vacation is more like sand, sunscreen, self-indulgence, and... no men. Oh, there's nothing wrong with the hairy gender. It's one of my two favorites. But honestly, aside from their obvious talents--such as screwing an umbrella into the sand hard and deep enough so it doesn't topple over in a strong wind, men are as superfluous on a summer holiday as earmuffs. Okay, not entirely true. But a women-only vacation is a treat occasionally.

So last week, I--officially single--and my friend Toba (yes I know it's matchy-matchy, Toby and Toba) whose first-rate husband was visiting grandkids cross country,  took off for the Delaware/Maryland shore. For this last gasp of summer vacation, our baggage included an iPad, Kindle, laptops, more shoes than clothes ...but no neon green noodles and floaties for kids now grown, and a not a single bottle of aftershave. Refreshing.

We didn't stop at the fashion outlets clustered along the route. We may buy stylish, but we no longer buy trendy, so what we've got lasts. We picked up fresh corn and tomatoes at the Little Red Wagon farm store on the approach to the Chesapeake Bay Bridge, a span whose height and leap-into-the-abyss design is a magnet for bridge phobia. Through clenched teeth, we sang our way across: "Everybody's gone surfin', surfin' U.S.A."

Arriving mid-morning, we hustled into swimsuits. No men. So no fear of judgment by those who'd seen us in bikinis in our twenties or could compare us to decades of Playboy centerfolds. Neither of us asked, "Does my ass look good?" I did wear a miracle suit constructed with the genius of Leonardo. Its powerful fabric and brilliant architecture flatten the tummy and somehow iron muffin tops sleek. Toba wore a tank twosome that allows women not to have to peel an entire clingy one-piece from a moist, sandy body when nature calls. Whoever came up with that cleverness deserves to share the Nobel Prize with the inventor of Spandex.

On the beach, we didn't discuss the coming election, the state of the union, the prospects of the Redskins, or the stock market. We could have. We know that kind of stuff. But unlike folks of the XY variety, we XXs can leave the world behind while gazing at a horizon of sky caressing sea. Nor did we ogle men in Speedos which we both think are ridiculous to the point of giggles.

That first night, dinner was just sweet corn and luscious Maryland tomatoes. For dessert, we made tracks to Dumser's, a local ice cream stand and ordered kiddy cones based on Toba's brilliant logic that two kiddy cones equal one small cone which allowed us to double up our daily quotient of ice cream.

Thus began our almost week away. Daytime, I researched my next book by scouting beach houses and shops in Bethany Beach and Rehoboth--possible settings. I interviewed locals for background. Toba did her own work with diligent focus. We spent a few morning hours on the beach and sunsets sipping wine on the balcony above it. Dinner was always just a haphazard prelude to Dumser's soft-serve. Or gelato on the boardwalk. Or both. Toba spoke multiple times to her husband whom she missed, but not overmuch. I got a message from someone who missed me. He was looking forward to my returning home. Home? Looking forward? Not overmuch. We would be there all too soon.

On the way back, with our stress level dialed down to zero, the Bay Bridge seemed less ominous. Once over, we stopped at a family-run store where the ice cream was made from milk produced by cows grazing on the dairy farm behind us. The young woman behind the counter convinced us to order the small size instead of kiddy cones. "I can make them with two flavors," she tempted. They came out with double scoops of bittersweet chocolate and cappuccino chip. She smiled at our guilty delight, a fresh faced beauty, heading back to college and into the world with options and opportunities spread before her like endless grains of sand on beach.
Did we envy her? After a vacation impossible at any other time in our lives, not a bit. Not a bit even the size of a cappuccino chip. 

Toby Devens

How about you? What was the best vacation of your life? Have you ever gone on holiday with just the gals?  Recommend it?



Toby in a Two-piece at 21

                                   

11 comments:

  1. Funny, I eat ice cream on vacation, too, something I almost never do at home. We bought cones in July at Pismo Beach, a town that's not as fun as its name.

    And I do like the idea of Toba's bathing suit. Maybe I will look for one. My bathing suits are all 20 years old.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Have never gone on an all-girl vacation--always with family or hubby. Sounds like fun though! Love the line about sticking the pole deep in the ground--wink, wink!

    ReplyDelete
  3. Toby,
    Enjoyed hearing about your girlcation. I would add Spanx to the list of marvelous inventions that were not around when we looked good in any old thing.

    ReplyDelete
  4. My mother was just reminding my sister and me this past weekend about the skimpy swim suits we wore when we were young. Great article!

    ReplyDelete
  5. My cousin and I went to Europe to celebrate her midlife graduation from Law School. We went to England and Paris (naturally the French heard we were coming and called a general strike), but we had a grand time, especially since we have husbands who are distinctly museum phobic. Is it just me, or do men assume on vacations that we will take care of them? Perhaps that's why trips with galpals seem so much more relaxing. We take care of ourselves and have fun with each other.

    ReplyDelete
  6. Rebecca, that two piece model is called the "tankini." The top lands at around your hips so covers the most likely places those ice cream calories eventually land. Search "tankini" on the web and hundreds of sites to buy them pop up.

    ReplyDelete
  7. Yeah, Nancy, wink! Clever woman. I almost put a comma before "an umbrella." Caught!

    ReplyDelete
  8. "Girlcation," now that's a new one for me. Thanks, Anon.

    ReplyDelete
  9. We were young and daring, Elizabeth. I never had the courage for a string bikini, but my Aunt Ann who lived near the beach chased after me with a towel to cover me in my fairly modest version of the bikini. My husband and I outran her, laughing all the way.

    ReplyDelete
  10. I've had some wonderful vacations with a husband in tow, Pearl. (And sometimes you really do have to tow him.) But dealing with men on holiday frequently requires negotiation. Women tend to say to each other, "Sure whatever." It's just a more laid back dynamic with a woman friend, unless the man in your life has a power turn-off switch. Not all of them vacate well.

    ReplyDelete
  11. I too had a girlcation with two best friends from high school. We traveled the West for 14 days. We got lost at midnight in North Dakota, but were in time to see the fireworks show. Got lost in Coyote State Park (again at midnight, we never slept) and was almost trampled by a herd of buffalo. We met a moose up close and personal in Yellow Stone State Park and saw a grizzly. We thought they had a wild fire in the Petrified Forest (we cried for the animals, till we saw the sign and realized where we were). I accidentally gave one friend what I thought was a hormone pill only to find out it was a muscle relaxer (she slept through Yellow Stone). I've never laughed so much in my life. Cost a fortune but hey...you can't put a price on fun. And get this...we didn't have to put on one bathing suit!

    ReplyDelete