My experience of them is when I was 9 or 10, one evening, leafing through my mother's knitting French magazines in search of a small, relatively easy project to execute, and running into a full spread of extra thin women proudly sporting colorful crocheted swimwear, including a psychedelic multicolored bikini with the center white part of the pattern hitting just the tip of the breasts. Now for a prepubescent girl, this appeared outrageous, and grotesque, because, well, because first there was so much attention on her... hum... her chest, and then, How could one swim with something like that? For sure it would take the water and sink to the bottom of the pool the minute you entered it, right? Right? I asked my mother. "Silly!" she hissed, "It's for parties". I went back to staring at the spread. It was featured in a respected magazine too, "De fil en aiguille", which had my grandmother's approval, and which was already at least 10 years old at the time, so it didn't make sense. But then, I became obsessed with the idea. To imagine that my hand could produce not only sweaters or hats or scarves which were donned over layers of other clothes, but also... could fashion something so intimate as an undergarment! The idea of it hypnotized me and I began attempting creating various versions using Phentex and other cheap yarn, whatever within the reach of a little girl. I remember a gray pair of boxer shorts I was quite proud of, except for the fact that it was gray, but hey it was the only wool I had. I never tried it in the water because my mother would have never let me go out in them, but they did suit me, they did hold (while dry). And although I later needed to undo them to use the wool for something else, the fact that I had actually made an intimate piece of coverage was most empowering.
(I actually found the very photo on the net!)
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