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Last week a woman stopped me, with my wet hair and bloodshot eyes, in the parking lot of the Mesa YMCA and asked if I’d been swimming. “Yes,” I replied, “and it was great!”
“Isn’t it cold?” she asked.
“Not at all,” I answered, “the pool is heated and it’s always between 82 and 84 F [27-29 C], and it’s pretty clean, too.”
(Photo courtesy of Centiblab.com)
“I haven’t been in a swim suit in 10 years,” the woman said, gazing longingly through the fence where the light played on the blue pool.. She was easily ten years younger than I and had a lovely, slim figure. “I hate my legs,” she continued, “so I’ll never wear a swim suit again.”
We continued our conversation a bit longer, with me trying to persuade her that a) she was lovely (she was), b) no one would care what her legs look like and c) swimming is wonderful exercise and if she likes it, why not do it? But it was all useless. She was paralyzed by her leg hate, and couldn’t imagine exposing herself in a swim suit to anyone, anywhere, anytime.
What a pity. And how odd.
Or maybe not.
Many of us focus on some aspect of our appearance that doesn’t please us. As adults, though, we usually get past adolescent insecurity and are able to accept ourselves, literally warts and all. For some, though, this preoccupation can become a form of mental illness called Body dysmorphic disorder, most commonly, but not always, found in the young. And guys – it’s not just for females, as a study in the British Medical Journal posited a few years ago. It can lead to self-hatred and a myriad of other disorders, including anorexia.
None of this is ‘news.’ Media has been yakking for years about the unrealistic expectations young men and women have for their own appearances based on how models look. There was a big faroo-farah in 2006 when Madrid banned overly-skinny models from the fashion catwalks, and Italy followed suit. In 2004 Dove soap began a campaign aimed at young women to help them be satisfied with their bodies.
I found myself wondering that day in the parking lot of the Y if this problem exists to the same extent in Italian adults. I don’t know the answer. To the casual observer at the beach, European bathers seem much happier in their skins than their American counterparts – but that’s just one person’s observation. Certainly my own friends there do not seem as preoccupied with their appearances as some of my friends here. Curiously, a Google of ‘where do people worry most about appearance’ brought up a raft of sites in the UK. hmmmmm. Interesting, and perhaps meaningless. This is not scientific.
I wish I could meet that lady again and persuade her to swim. I wish I could tell her about all the lovely people who sunbathe on Rapallo beaches in all kinds of dress and undress, revealing all sizes and shapes of bodies. I wish I could tell her that it’s not what her legs look like that matters. It’s what my legs look like that matters. Just kidding. By the way – that’s a picture of me when I was young at the top of the post. Just kidding again; I’m definitely an expatriate in the land of the slim and beautiful… but I’m not upset by it and am happy just to be alive, and so grateful that no matter what I look like, I can still swim!
Expatriate is visiting another foreign country later this week: California. Stay tuned.
An Ex-Expatriate 
Well, I’m American and I HATE THAT AIRBRUSHED BABE!
No wonder we worry about how we appear to others when we’re bombarded with images like what’s inside that little blue bikini.
And don’t tell me she didn’t buy those boobs!
Well, oh dear. I don’t hate her; nor do I envy her or want to look like her (at our age??!). I am sad that so many young women don’t understand that the photos they see set an unrealistic standard; and am sorrier that we live in an age that places such high value on appearance. But then, has it ever been different?
The first thought that entered my mind when I saw the photo was “Is that from the spring collection of Intimissimi? I want! I want!”
All kidding aside, I think the average american has become sensitive to how they look because half the time they are covered in clothes. The dang docs tell you that UV rays are dangerous so they cover-up when they go anywhere under the sun. No sun or hardly any sun = pale and sickly looking skin. Poor people, how are we to know that you don’t have a severe case of anemia?! Oops! You gotta wonder why italians don’t seem to be overly concerned with the dangers of too much sole. Maybe they just don’t listen to their medical practitioner?
I’d say that Italians care much less about how they look on the beach than Americans do. Case in point: every female from 1 years old to 99 wears a bikini. Literally. They care much more about tanning their “ciccia” (flab) than hiding it. And personally, not caring a whit about what pasta has done to my hips since moving here, I’m proud to sport my bikini with them.
p.s. The weather here has turned lovely, Fern. Mimosa blooms like small yellow firework-bursts all over the hills. Hope you had a lovely Festa Della Donna! It just occurred to me how apropos your post is, considering yesterday’s holiday. 🙂
And don’t forget the men, Chiara. Doesn’t matter the age or shape, they all love to wear those little next-to-nothing bikini bottoms. Over here the lads seem to be favoring enormous floppy shorts-type suits that go below the knees, but start well below the belly-button. Sometimes I long for the 1950’s – at least as far as little sundresses and bathing attire goes… Glad to hear Spring has sprung – we can’t wait to get back. Had a great F della D, but sadly, no male strippers in evidence here in Arizona.