Proper beach attire requires a bit more than this – especially for those of us not made for the Australian sun. Photo: Getty
You would think after all these years that I would have the fashion answer to everything every dress code, every occasion.
I do, but mainly for other people. When it comes to me, sometimes life just sends situations where I inevitably get it wrong.
Take, for example, beachwear. Despite being raised in the Sutherland Shire, I am not a natural beach person, although I love nothing more than an ocean swim.
One of the reasons I hated growing up in Cronulla was that I couldn’t, and didn’t want to, get a tan. My pale white freckle-prone Anglo-Celtic skin was not designed for full sun and coconut oil. I’ve never felt bikini ready and have always preferred a full coverage.
I still remember my French husband’s mortification when we went on holidays to the Greek islands just after we met. While all the other women were suntanning and dancing in in G-strings, I was under an umbrella, wearing a black and cream long-leg unitard bathing suit that would have been more suitable in Biarritz circa the 1920s (I wish I still had it now, it was a French label, very expensive and very chic).
I accessorised it with a huge, wide-brimmed straw hat and round tortoiseshell sunglasses, while everyone else wore bandannas and Ray-Bans.
He obviously thought Australians, i.e. me, were weird, having health concerns during a summer holiday. But I also remember the beach was so crowded I got a urinary tract infection, so I feel like my caution was warranted.
I’ve muddled along with beach wear over the years, everything from sarongs, to rashies, to Indian cotton caftans, to linen separates – all with varying degrees of success.
My friend has recently talked me into going for an early walk and swim at Bondi Beach each morning, followed by a coffee at café and a car trip home.
This concept initially threw me, dress-wise. It sounded like four different changes of clothes to me. I need shorts, something with long sleeves to prevent sunspots on my arms and cleavage, a sensible swimsuit, then a cover-up of some description. I’m not rocking up to the café with anything on display.
I’ve seen some cute towelling shift dresses that are probably a good solution (from the underground carpark to the café) but for some reason they all seem to come in a yuck shade of mustard, probably because of their 1960s vibe, and that colour is hideous on my skin.
I love the short terry-towelling swim robes from Lucy Folk (very Ann Margaret) but I think they need a mule.
But I have noticed an Australian label, Zulu & Zephyr, which has just released these absolutely fab ribbed bodysuits that walk a line between an athletic, yet sexy swimsuit and a unitard.
I feel like this chic little playsuit is the answer I, and maybe you, have been searching for all these years. I was waaay ahead of my time back there in Greece, embarrassing my husband.