Rachel didn't flinch as she put on the bathing suit and turned half way and looked over her shoulder at her backside in the mirror. "Not bad" she thought as she turned the other way for a moment. Posing in front of the mirror in the dressing room was easy. But it would be another thing to feel this confidant during the pageant next week at the beach boardwalk.
She had just turned eighteen two weeks ago and was wondering if she would ever have a steady guy in her life. Oh, there were plenty of interested boys. She couldn't walk down the street without hearing a whistle or seeing a guy looking her way from a car. But, she never had a boyfriend. She had never gone steady as her friend Marsha had.
Standing 5' 11" barefoot she felt like a giraffe next to her girlfriend. All leg. Gangly she often thought. Why can't I just be a normal a height like everyone else? Her mom always told her she was beautiful. Mom always did even when she had the chickenpox and covered in red spots! She was beautiful in large shoes at least two sizes bigger than any one else wore.
Nothing fit correctly. Pants were coming into style and they were always too short. She felt so awkward.
Marsha was her best friend. She was 5'3" and petite. She had the prettiest complexion Rachel had ever seen. Flawless. She also had the biggest blue eyes and long
lashes. Her auburn colored hair was wavy. Her bubbly personality was the life of any party.
Marsha stood outside the dressing room door at Sears. Rachel opened the curtain for her to critique the suit. She always gave an honest answer. She knew what it was like to have someone tell her one thing and mean another. People lied through their teeth all the time. She would never do that to her friend. Marsha said, "I Love it, Rachel! If you don't win that swimsuit contest next week they're going to hear it from me!"
It was a white two piece. The bra top had a cute strap effect that tied in the back and came up by her shoulders at an angle and up around her neck. In the front between the cups there was a cute green and white and pale pink hombre shaded ribbon tied in a bow. The bottom fit like a short tight skirt across her hips and was laced along the sides with the same ribbon.
Her wavy light golden brown hair grazed her shoulders. Her tanned skin was a nice contrast against the white suit. It was risky because it resembled a bra and girdle. There were several other suits she had tried on in various colors that she piled on the bench in the
dressing room. There was something about this suit that would command attention. Who would wear something out in public that looked like underwear? Did she dare purchase it and tell her mom? She decided to keep it a secret until the contest. Marsha gave her a pinky swear not to tell as they locked their fingers and hugged as they giggled.
Next they headed to the accessories department. They both tried on pair after pair of sunglasses. Marsha chose a black rimmed pair that had some little rhinestones at the top corner of the lenses. Rachel chose a white pair with cat eye frames. She also saw a cute little green and white drawstring satchel that complimented the ribbon on the suit.
Most girls at the contests carried nothing or a towel that they usually carried over their shoulder.
She would have the satchel and sunglasses that would be a new flair.
Marsha had been coaching Rachel on her walk. She had noticed other girls would quickly walk to the end of the stage, stop and turn back and walk quickly away. Everyone copied the one going ahead of her. Predictable behavior. Once Rachel perfected the walk, which was deliberately slow with a slight swing in her hips, Marsha instructed her to do a pose and put her right foot out in front of her and slightly bend her knee. Then she told her to put the sunglasses on and make a half turn with her backside to the crowd and look over her left shoulder as she pulled down the glasses and looked over the rims at them. She would stroll slowly back to the opposite end of the stage and wave casually. They practiced all afternoon and several times that week. (cont'd)
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