11 years of the same husband and the same swimsuit

Chic, flattering, and built to last - the minimalist swimwear that made holiday dressing a joy

I don’t live in LA. Or Sydney. Or Lahinch. Or anywhere remotely tropical. Which is why it’s maybe a bit mad how much I’ve spent on swimwear over the years. But when the holidays come around - and fuck it couldn’t come quick enough - I want to feel more than fine. I want to feel fabulous! Properly lush and that’s before I hit the Pinot.

I want to feel confident. Free. And that is not an easy ask when you are, essentially, standing around in your underwear. In public.

Some people get excited by the idea of swimwear. I get a touch of the fear. Because here’s the thing - I have secret boobs. Big, stealthy, not-particularly-welcome-when-I’m-trying-to-be-casual boobs. And I do not want to spend my summer hoiking, adjusting, or wondering if I’m blinding someone’s father-in-law at a beach café.

So I started looking for something better. Not cutesy. Not overly engineered. Definitely not giving “1950s pin-up at a pool party”. Just… functional but cool. No hard feat, let me tell you!

Understated. A bit Carolyn Bessette Kennedy (in my head, she’s never in a bikini - always a black one-piece, crisp shirt, salty skin, no faff).

For years, I’d done the usual dance: triangle tops (useless), ruched bottoms (terrifying), high-waisted “retro” things that cut in all the wrong places. I’d panic buy bikinis in Accessorize before airport runs. I’d sink money into suits that didn’t do anything for me.

I was over it.

Then, a stylist friend of mine, who knows bodies and busts and holidays, said: “This is the swimsuit. Just trust me.”

🔥 Hey Hot Messers — this is where the paid stuff kicks in. I get it, it’s swimwear, but it’s also so much more than swimwear. It’s about ease, confidence, showing up in your body as it is. Subscribers make this Substack tick, and I love you for it.