By Malia Jacobson

When I haul my kids to the local pool, I sport a spanking-new swimsuit. With its sturdy straps and sensible seat coverage, it doesn’t resemble anything you’d see on a runway. No whimsical flight of poolside fancy, this baby is built to withstand ultra-chlorinated kiddie pools and over-zealous laundering. Jelly fingerprints and sippy cup mishaps are no match for the industrial-strength fabric. 

It’s a mommy suit, and I’ll wear it with pride. When I slip on this wonder of engineering, I’ll join legions of other moms slapping on sunscreen and proffering towels in suits built for endurance, not style. 

I’ve learned that the pretty swimsuits of my youth aren’t built to withstand the pace of mom life. Like many of motherhood’s lessons, this one dawned slowly. My first inklings came after I spent several seaside afternoons sprinting after my toddler in a woefully unsupportive top. Soon after, I realized that my fashionable swimsuits were quite a bit of work. I was constantly adjusting my top and feeling up my own rear end for tactile evidence that my bottoms were still on. Not pretty.

I knew change was in the air. That knowledge, however, was insufficient. It took a starring role in a peep show at a toddler swim class to drive the point home. 

One Saturday morning, I made the mistake of wearing a bandeau-style bikini to a parent-child swim at the YMCA. Sporting a stretched-out old top in a pool full of wiggly kids sounds like a recipe for disaster, and it was: I inadvertently flashed the entire pool full of kids and their stunned parents when my top slipped down during the “jumping fish” song. 

By the time I felt the breeze tickling my upper torso, it was too late to hide the damage from the extremely embarrassed dad standing five feet in front of me. Carefully avoiding eye contact with everyone over the age of two, I scraped together a few shreds of dignity, hoisted up my top, and swore to get a new suit.

Post-flash, I’m approaching the world of swimwear with a new perspective. In the weary trenches of early parenthood, function trumps fashion. Bikinis don’t stand a chance in the chaotic world of the toddler pool. Suits designed to look good in a lounge chair require constant monitoring and repositioning, and we moms can’t be bothered. We’re too busy monitoring and repositioning our kids.

Judging from the countless moms I’ve seen in near-identical suits, I know I’m not alone in my appreciation for sensible swimwear. 

So I’m embracing my one-piece. It won’t win me any admiring glances or a spot on the yummy-mummy list, but it will stand up to whatever the summer dishes out. And I don’t have to worry about any more swim-class wardrobe malfunctions. The local Y, its pool patrons, and the entire toddler-swim community will thank me, I’m sure.  

Malia Jacobson is a nationally published journalist and mom.