Saturday, November 27, 2010
I'm helping to run a field course for undergraduate students in a week's time and am heading off to a tropical island on the Great Barrier Reef. After the initial excitement had worn off, I soon realised I was ill prepared for my trip and desperately needed to go shopping.
I took advantage of recent sales at the DFO to invest in a good pair of fins, a mask and snorkel.
My priority, however, was a rash vest to keep the sun off my back so I left work early yesterday to go shopping for more stuff. Rash vests are great for guys with perfectly toned bodies but for those of us who simply don't have the time to go to the gym (i.e. lazy), the contour fitting form of these shirts make it very hard to hide unsightly bulges. I figure that a week of intense sit ups is unlikely to make much of a difference to my physique so I decided to go for the lesser evil and settled for a black-coloured shirt, which was (as I very quickly found out) far less unflattering than the white version (so it's true, black really is slimming).
Rash vest in the bag, I tried to look for a pair of bathers. I don't get to the beach much and the swimming shorts I have at home are seriously outdated (they are the size of a one-man tent which means they blow up like a floatation device when I first hit the water before releasing all the trapped air in a most embarassing fashion). Call me shallow but I needed to update my swim wear.
Still, I had no idea what I was getting myself into when I ventured up the escalators at DJs and was confronted with an overwhelming selection of swim shorts in a myriad of patterns, colours and forms. I made a half-baked effort to sift through the selection, got a shock when I saw the price tag on a pair I liked (who the hell pays $200 for a pair of swimming trunks?), and promptly decided I had had enough shopping for one day.