It’s getting to be swimsuit season. Know what that means to me?

Mary Henkel Judson is editor and co-publisher of the South Jetty. Contact her at southjetty@centurytel. net, (361) 749-5131 or P.O. Box 1117, Port Aransas, TX 78373. Not much.

I’ve probably bought a total of five, and that may be an exaggeration, swimsuits in the past 25 years.

First of all, I’m white. Really white – especially in March when the sadistic urge to shop for swimsuits takes hold.

And for a relatively skinny person, I’ve got some extras where there ought not be extras. That doesn’t look good in white.

So there I am, in a dressing room, every flaw known to a mirror bared by that fluorescent light – and I’m looking at all of ’em. The wad of fabric that is the suit I’m trying on seems to be doing its best to show where all my extras are located – in places I didn’t even know about.

And my derrière appears to have attached itself to my abdomen. Oh wait, that is my abdomen. I have no derrière. And I thought this was one of those magic swimsuits that gives you six-pack abs. Not on moi, apparently.

Next.

Boy-cut bottoms. Nah, just pushes the inevitable down a few inches.

Next.

The tankini – you know, a two-piece for “mature’ women (the models in the catalogues look anything but mature). These feature long, usually loose-cut, tops that cover a lot of sins, we hope. Not so much.

Ladies, we’ve got this all wrong. Going shopping for a swimsuit while wearing three layers of outer clothing and Uggs should be the first sign that Something Is Not Right. What you uncover in that dressing room is not going to be pretty. It’s been eating comfort food and hasn’t seen the light of day all winter.

I suggest we not do this to ourselves.

How about going for a new cover-up and wear last year’s swimsuit (which is now five years old)?

Wait until July, after you’ve had time, in the privacy of your backyard or on a remote stretch of beach, to expose those sheltered limbs to some natural vitamin D. Work out and tone up if you must.

Then go swimsuit shopping – and buy a few extras (they’ll be on sale by then) and save yourself the agony of shopping for 90-degree-clothes wearing clothing for 50-degree-clothes on a body that’s been in hibernation for three months.

That, or say you did and don’t.

My now vintage suit is looking pretty good – at least better than anything I might try on in March. And that’s no reflection, pardon the pun, on the purveyors of swimsuits. It’s what goes in them that’s the problem.