Just Wear The Bikini

I grew up in California where bikinis were the uniform of summer. But somewhere along the way, the conversation shifted. By the time I was working with clients in their 40s and 50s, I noticed something troubling: women weren't just avoiding bikinis — they were avoiding the beach altogether. Or they were there, buried in a cover-up. It didn't matter what size or shape they were. The anxiety was universal.

Then I moved to Portugal.

On the beaches here, women of every age — from toddlers to grandmothers — are in bikinis. All shapes, all sizes, all confidently moving through their day. They're bending, squatting, walking, swimming. They're not performing. They're not hiding. They're just being.

And here's what struck me most: they're completely unselfconscious about it.

I watched a woman in her 70s squat down to adjust her towel without a second thought. Portuguese women aren't worried about angles or unflattering positions. They're efficient. They're present. They're enjoying the weather, the water, the moment. That unselfconsciousness isn't youth — it's freedom.

It made me realize something uncomfortable: nobody has thought about my body more than I have. Not a partner. Not strangers on the beach. Not anyone. Just me. Endlessly.

How absurd is that?

In America, we're all so consumed by our own body insecurities that we barely notice anyone else's. We're too busy managing our own hangups to scrutinize someone else's — unless we're admiring them or wishing we looked like them, which is just another layer of the same trap.

Portugal's beaches have shown me what I lost somewhere between California and adulthood: the ability to just exist in my body without narrating it, judging it, or hiding it.

And here's the crazy part — I am one of my own clients. The women I think look absolutely amazing, so foxy, so effortlessly themselves. I'm often blown away when I hear "well, Suzi, you can wear anything." What? I knew I could wear anything from a stylist's point of view — if I love it, I wear it, flattering or not. But my body could wear anything? That's a different thing entirely. It's perspective. And our maddening minds, conditioned our entire lives: low fat, non fat, Keto, Atkins, cardio, no cardio, weights, no weights, run, walk, STOP.

The funny thing is, I became my clients. I always wore bikinis — a Cali girl through and through, unless I was being active. But shopping for a swimsuit was always its own ordeal: bad lighting, so pale, usually a mosquito bite or two, hunting for a top with actual boob support that didn't create a uni-boob, a small bottom because I have no bum, enough tummy coverage but not so much that it became a full coverage bikini bottom - remember no bum. Thank god the market finally figured out to sell tops and bottoms separately.

Since turning 50 almost seven years ago, so much of my life has changed — including this: I buy swimsuits online. No more hours under fluorescent lights. I pour a glass of wine, set vacation mode, choose five or six, have them sent to me, and try them on at home. My rule: I keep two. I don't tend to mix and match prints but I do love mixing black bikini tops and bottoms.

And what's funny? I always wore my skimpiest bikinis on vacation — not because vacation Suzi had fewer hangups, but because she didn't know anyone. Who cared what she was wearing? That is no longer vacation Suzi. That's just me.

There's also a difference between choosing a one piece because you love it and choosing it because you're covering up. One is a decision. The other is a hiding strategy dressed up as a preference. For active days — kayaking, paddle boarding, jet skiing — a one piece makes total sense. No wardrobe malfunctions. But choose it because you love it, not because you're managing yourself.

Portugal's beaches have changed me. And this swim edit reflects that energy — suits for real life, beauty essentials that actually work in the sun, sandals that survive the water, and a few poolside extras that are pure fun. Because the beach should bring you joy, laughter and ease.

[LINK TO BOARD]

Nobody's thinking about it as much as you are.

XO,

Suzi