Molly and I have just returned from five wonderful days in Tuscany.
We were visiting some friends and stayed in their beautiful house just outside Lucca. We had a fabulous time, which mainly consisted of eating or drinking anything that began with a P: Pizza, Pasta, Pancetta, Prosecco, Parma ham and Pinot Grigio. Well, when in Rome... or rather Lucca.
A couple of days were of course spent basking on the beach. I always love the sunbathing and swimming, but it quickly became clear that this was the perfect spot for one of my favourite sports - people watching.
Now of course an Italian beach is somewhat different to an English one, and not only because of the lack of Kiss Me Quick hats, fish and chips and litter. It really was the people that made it so different and particularly the Italians themselves.
Firstly I have never seen so many tanned bodies in one place; secondly they were all real tans; and thirdly the tanned flesh, regardless of its age or size, appeared covered in swimsuits so small that it hardly seemed worth the effort.
And this got me to thinking. Should there be an upper age limit where it is no longer legal to wear a bikini or speedos?
Seriously, the sights were unbelievable. In the UK one might see larger than life ladies with very white flesh poured into a very unflattering costume. But in Italy, it’s more about the age of the lady. And the older and browner they are, the smaller the amount of material that is used in covering their modesty.
Now call me old fashioned, but I really don’t want to see an octogenarian in an Itsy Bitsy Teeny Weeny bikini - whether it’s got yellow polka dots or not!
Sometimes though there wasn’t even a full bikini bottom on show, just a full bottom. By this, I don’t mean in the lovely plump way. It’s just that these older ladies clearly feel that a thong is appropriate attire to best show off their sagging, wrinkly bottoms. Sorry Signora, I beg to differ.
And then there are the men. Now in my book, unless you’re under 10 years old, speedos (or any other make of very tight budgie-smuggling trunks) should be completely avoided. But not, it seems, in Italy. Speedos are clearly very de rigeur (‘scuse my French) on Italian beaches, and I am really not a fan.
Molly and I started playing a game of Spot the Speedo throughout the afternoon, and oh how we laughed. Our winner was a man in his seventies, who had evidently seen himself as something of an Italian stallion in his prime. However now his hair, though still shoulder length, was thinning on top and dyed all over, his tanned frame was sagging in all the wrong places, and even his tattoos were illegible because of his over tanned, over wrinkled, over exposed skin. His trunks of choice were very small, very tight and very white. Need I say more.
Please believe me when I say I’m no prude and of course people should wear swimwear when on a beach. But in my mind, when it comes to the amount of fabric covering the Italians’ bits and pieces, there comes an age when men and women alike should realise, that more really is more.
NOTE TO SELF: Arrivederci speedos!
