Mele Kalikimaka

Last Saturday, some friends had a bachelorette-ish party – which was ridiculous and silly and thankfully did not incorporate too many plastic penises. I was totally caught off-guard when they gave me a gift card at a high-end lingerie boutique in the area! Score!

However, since I already have wedding night, ahem, accoutrements, I went shopping for a banging bikini. Let’s face it – even if I was 18, which I most certainly am not, I would not be comfortable wearing the itty bitty bottoms that prevail in swimwear at the moment. I’m also not ready for to be pushed into a one-piece with tummy controls and such. So let’s find a middle ground, shall we?

Thankfully, I did! I got this:


NB: Not me.

The top has real straps, which are necessary because I loathe all things strapless. It fits perrrrfectly and I can’t wait to frolic in it!

And yeah, it’s worth pointing out that we’re going to Bermuda, not Hawaii, and yes, I’m aware that my header is Hawaiian. Or at least it is according to Bing Crosby. Which might just mean it’s drunk.

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