I need a swimsuit. I want a crochet bikini. Not to drag the Rolling Stones into all this drama, but I’m aware you can’t always get what you want (but if you try sometimes, well you just might find, you get what you need). I tried, but my brain is still having a hard time deciding how to proceed.
It (she?) rightfully asked: How do crochet bikinis work? Are they cotton? Will they weigh you down in the water? Can you even go in the water? Not knowing the answers, I queried a random sampling of whoever was on FB messenger at the time. No one knew. Everyone was like, I’m pretty sure you work at a fashion website, Erica, why are you asking me this? Fair.
I took my conundrum to a pitch meeting and was informed by the experts you know and love that this sort of swimwear is more for sunbathing and staying on land. This revelation didn’t and couldn’t stop me — I’ve been consistently googling “crochet bikini” since the beginning of May. It’s mid-June, I’m still bikini-less, and I’m still googling. It’s time to think more critically about crochet bikinis, which has led to the compilation of the following list of reasons why I probably shouldn’t purchase one and should instead move on. RT if you agree:
They’re extremely boho.
Possibly too boho. Yes, I’m a native Californian who is currently sporting waist-length goddess locs and am planning to re-read Helter Skelter this summer set to the White Album on loop. Adding a crochet bikini to that mix may be overload.
… And also expensive.
To be fair, I think almost every swimsuit is “too expensive” because I only end up wearing them a grand total of 2.5 times each summer. Still, I did find myself sharply inhaling more often than usual every time I opened another crochet bikini and its price tag in a new tab.
They need babying.
I don’t know about you, but once I peel off a swimsuit, I completely forget its existence. That is, until the next time I need to wear it when, like clockwork, I proceed to be extremely annoyed that it’s still soggy and damp in the butt area because I maybe threw in the corner of the shower instead of actually hanging it up to dry.
Preliminary research has revealed that crochet bikinis are delicate creations that require more of a “first-child” sort of supervision and handling than a “last-child, only-boy-in-the-family” supervision and handling — which is the only kind of supervision and handling I can give to my clothes at this point in my life. I’ve had like 32 pairs of jeans. Stay out as late as you want, I don’t care. I just can’t anymore.
They look kinda itchy.
I’m not saying they are itchy, just that looking at them for too long starts to remind me of knit sweaters, and I can’t have that mental image in my mind when I’m making plans to hang out with sand, sunscreen and 90-degree weather. Awkward.
They’re possibly only for Instagram.
If you’re not in the water (because you’re in a delicate, expensive crochet bikini), there’s a good chance you’re on dry land, which means there’s a good chance you have your phone, which means there’s a good chance you’re documenting hot-dog legs, a head/handstand, or a fuck you, I’m hot photo, all of which look even better in a crochet bikini. I personally have a nervous breakdown every time I try to select a photo from the nearly identical photos on my camera roll to post, let alone subsequently select a filter, so I often forgo posting anything on Insta. If no one else knows I own a crochet bikini, do I even own a crochet bikini?
One could argue coverage isn’t what bikinis are all about. Or, they (I) could argue, a bikini is in itself the coverage. I’m of the school of thought that everyone starts out naked by default, hence the bikini is doing the covering, not the revealing. In which case, choosing a bikini with pre-existing holes is a little more counterintuitive than I’m comfortable with.
…which means an elevated risk of weird tan lines.
Though crochet bikinis are mostly for sunbathing, I have a sneaky feeling long-term exposure could leave you with weird tan lines. Not lines, even — more like a speckly tan mosaic. Is that worse than halter-strap tan lines that clash with your tank-top straps, or a weird mid-section triangle cut-out from a one-piece? I honestly don’t know.
They seem very event-specific.
Like: fancy tropical getaway, or I’m on a boat wearing ’70s-inspired accessories-specific. Probably not worth it in the long-run for a city dweller like myself who is visiting another city instead of a tropical locale this summer, who doesn’t plan on ever tanning and wants to spend solid time in the water should the opportunity arise.
ANYWAY, I’m definitely buying one tonight, which one do you think I should get?