Showing posts with label rashie. Show all posts
Showing posts with label rashie. Show all posts

Wednesday, 20 January 2010

Fabulous Developments

1. My eyelashes are now longer and thicker than they were B.C. As I glanced in the mirror I am sure that Liza Minnelli winked back at me.


2. Today I wore a bikini top for the first time. Admittedly, it was under a kaftan. But as I stripped off on the beach I felt like a total babe for a moment before covering up with the all-enveloping rashie.

Thursday, 31 December 2009

Sommers Bay Beach Fashion

In Tasmania it is thirty-six degrees. Unheard of! All around mum’s house grow spiky sand-grasses called ‘Sags.’ I know from experience that I am allergic to Sags. They bring my feet out in an angry, itchy rash. So on the way through from the airport we stopped off in Sorrell to pick up a pair of knee length socks. Teamed with the rashie, Crocs and a pair of 1970’s boy’s swimming shorts I think this outfit represents a new frontier in beach Chemo Chic.



Tuesday, 29 December 2009

Buying a Rashie

“Remember, you must keep your chest completely covered up. No sun whatsoever.” Dr Coulter’s words follow me into a surf shop in Bondi Junction. Nick brought me here to buy a rash vest or, as they call it in Aus, a rashie. A rashie is a lycra t-shirt that surfers wear with or without a wetsuit to prevent the nasty chest rash caused when bare flesh rubs against a surfboard. They have the added advantage of being UV resistant claiming an SPF of 50+. They are light enough to swim in. So what’s the down side? Rashies are universally covered with hideous logos. ROXY screams one, BILLABONG exclaims another amidst a crude swirly wave pattern. I crinkle my nose. Nick turns to the surfer-girl sales assistant, “Do you have any rashies without logos?” She gapes at us with a disdainful shake of her head. In my emotionally unhinged mind I imagine she’s thinking “Why does an old woman like her want to go to the beach anyway?”

We do a few circuits of Westfield Shopping Plaza looking at similar but more expensive rashies before returning to the first shop. There is a different, more mature, sales assistant on duty. She directs us upstairs to the menswear department. Here we find a dark pewter coloured rashie with the single word 'O’Neill' subtly inscribed in almost-invisible black lettering. It’s on sale – 20% off. I take it.