Moving on (clears throat), I wanted to revisit my love for self-appointed-culture-police-neanderthals in a congratulatory post, for surpassing my wildest expectations with respect to ‘cultural’ hypocrisy and all-purpose delusion when it came to ‘moralistically’ judging other desi’s (read: desi girls). This of course will finally lead them to their dearest target: ME and my equally raunchy pastime of swimming (whore!).
So this post is a bathing-suit instructional for the moronic, English-vocabulary-challenged, generally pseudo-sanctimonious, self appointed desi-culture police freaks at my university.
So let us dive into it (heh), shall we?
The tank suit of the 1920’s:
Look at this bathing suit O’ medieval freaks. This was worn in the twenties. You heard me right,the twenties. The tank suit was a figure hugging (oh the horror, THE HORROR) one-piece jersey suit, meant to aid a woman while swimming. Of course, we all know that you really don’t care about the fact that a woman stays afloat or drowns in the pool as long as she is covered from head to toe in flowing cumbersome material, and with your broad-minded views I know that you consider swimming as a degenerate act in itself, but may I suggest a happy medium?
This brings us to,
Victorian and Edwardian swimwear:
Wholesome, modest and utterly safe, on land that is. In water...well who cares about choking or drowning in those dark flannel (yes, flannel) bathing dresses, eh? Besides, this magnificent bathing gown is belted AND you wear pants underneath for a touch of style and class. Wearing pants under the heavy, dark flannel dresses also doubles as a covering for those titillating body parts that women possess and men lust over: CALVES.
So what do you say MF’s (medieval freaks)?
Obviously, I love to revel in my transgressions, so a tankini or a one-piece suit (like the ones below) are just unacceptable and plain wrong to you MF’s, but ogling at the swim team and passing lewd comments in Hindi like “Dekh, dekh! Itney saarey maal! Arey yaar, mujko kuch ho raha hai!”(Loose translation: oh look! Such yummy looking babes! Man, ahh! I can feel something happening to me!) followed by sniggers and lip smacking sounds, while we practice in the pool is A-ok and completely lucid and acceptable. Gosh, but I digress.
We have now reached a weird paradox. Evidently I cannot stop indulging in sin and quitting swimming is out of the question. And you will not rest until you spuriously gossip and spread
Because this is what I am supposed to be wearing to erm, preserve my modesty (although I do see a hint of knee, sigh) and a bathing suit which resembles a cross between a mumu and a cropped kaftan MF's, will fit your lofty ideals of purity and sinless-ness perfectly.
And you are not alone in your endless pursuit of
“I'm very surprised at the men who call because they don't want their wives and daughters running around in their underwear.
Ahh, how caring! It must be nice to know that your degenerate brand of sexism is alive and well, in amrigaa no?
So what do you say O' medeival freaks? Will you leave me alone if I wear a bathing
tent suit which prevents me from showing off my dirty parts like hips, legs, arms, back etc? Will it stop tarnishing your innocence (left at the door of course, while visiting a stripclub) ?
Please let me know MF's.
As for me, I'm off to indulge in a wild swimming practice session of pornographic propotions, what with 12 girls in tankini's and all.......
its practically an orgy.