Bathing Beauty

Today I walked down by the shore of the bay - that yoke of sand and undulating, tepid water - allowing my feet and eyes to palpate those smooth stones that burrow right along the coastline. Of course, I imagined myself as Martha again, that reticent poet the Lieutenant so loves in The Things They Carried. I picked up coral, kernel-sized rocks and purple pebbles and even a seamless, featureless white stone that reminded me of the one so longingly described in the novel. Somehow, the beach has a way of making me think about everything and absolutely nothing all at once, like scrawling out vast catalogues (with a new number on each list for every grain of salt and sand riveted to my limbs), only to tear off the paper from the notepad and toss it aside in favor of an unmarked page. I thought about James and war and how I can't write anymore, and about my father backpacking out west in lieu of college, and about how I need to stop wishing I were more tragic - some sort of doleful, misplaced doe living in those grassy sectors that are all too close to highway medians. To unbutton my own skin a little, I stationed my towel near the dunes, where I could canoodle with the sun, nuzzled my feet into the sand and let fistfuls of it sift through my hands like funnels, and imagined that I really were living in the forties, which isn't hard to do on a secluded beach in a vintage-inspired bikini. I let myself assemble a Bathing Beauty wish-list: all the thises and thats I want to have to be a more genuine swimsuit clad lady of the past. Thought I'd share all those coveted items:

1) An embellished bathing cap, to keep my pin curls in place. In the forties and even later, women essentially never ventured into the water without neatly tucking their labored-over locks into a floral (or otherwise) decorated swimming cap.

2) A pretty lace or paper parasol to keep my complexion looking nicely browned, rather than horribly roasted.

3) Back issues of magazines published in the forties to peruse while lounging on the beach. Nothing like a little inspiration from the glamour girls of the bygone days.

4) A wide-brimmed, straw hat for mid-day beach strolls.

And of course, some accessories I already own that no bathing beauty should be without:

1) Impractical pumps to keep those legs looking long and lean.

2) Fresh or silk flowers or some alternative hair accessory to keep you looking finished and well polished.

3) A vintage handkerchief to dab our faces with in order to fool men into thinking us dames never sweat.

4) And of course, we mustn't ever forget our red lipstick; if, in the forties, women in the military were expected to demonstrate their femininity in spite of their service with stained lips, then certainly, the bayside was no place to be without makeup!

Now, please, all, get to the beach before the summer, too, is bygone!