Once
more, summer comes rolling around again,
and with it, the scintillating universe
of young, golden female flesh languidly
lounging along sparkling pool-sides and
sizzling beaches. Perhaps this is no surprise
to you, being that each and every year does
have its own December, and each December
has its own days of sun and sweltering heat.
But, it just so happens that in this God-given
year of nineteen hundred eighty-four, there
is an abundance of marvelous new views and
angles of sensual square centimeters on
display, in both hemispheres of the fair,
sex as my friend Simeao would say. The swimsuits,
my friend, have become so small, almost
transparent, sheer, bordering on inexistence,
discovered by Cabral, a Portuguese of high
standing. Here, and in every part of this
delectable country found by an admiral on
his way to discover as indias. The indian
women or women of India? And this, since
1500, and with nudity not always being punished…
The news comes to us from North and South,
all up and down our exuberant coast. Never
has there been as much live, outdoor, outright,
open-air femininity exposed, quite natural
and with style, as befits they whom, with
fresh blushing youth, parade their beauty
to delirium. Bets placed since the beginning
of the month, salty or sweet, hot, as riveting
to the eyes as the sun, turning the young
men’s heads and leaving hearts smoldering.
You wouldn’t even need to hear of
similar news from the outside world because,
right here at home, visions of loveliness
enchant our eyes as far as can be seen.
What a light-year leap from the one-piece
turtleneck swimsuits and ribbons around
the knees of our grandmothers!…How
much more relaxed are the beauties who look
well in and know how to walk in these latest
tidbits. They say that the real color of
summer is the color of skin, golden tones
covering the entire body, in a daring exhibition
and investment toward seduction, complete
and bludgeoning, abiding and abetting. They
say that the time of summer is like the
time of no other season, sprinkled with
liberty, full of holidays and vacations,
X-mas time, traveling, free time galore.
Summer, when the temperature goes up and
the pressure climbs to maximum by the ticking
of the clock and the expectation of the
coming New Year and what it promises. Now,
this scorching December, something new is
up. There’s a renewed esthetic sense.
Just pure, sleek elegance because fat can
no longer be tolerated, nothing of cellulite
or slights to the roving masculine eye.
From Bahia to Rio de Janeiro, from a thousand
beaches come new names for the pieces of
cloth which will be used to cover the pubic
areas which are quickly turning public:the
mini-curtain, the roll-up, the bikini plug,
the lightning…Lightning, because it’s
just a thin streak…whoever wants to
use them has to be able to look real natural
in them, personalize them as much as possible.
This gives it the cadence and the swing
of Ipanema or Itapoa.
And do you really think that any of this
is new? Pero Vaz de Gamma, when writing
to the king, Dom Manuel de Cabral, shows
the success of this primal fashion modeling
when he wrote “that among all that
came, there was only one woman, an indian
girl, that always came to mass, and to whom
they gave a sheet with which to cover herself
in church. She would wrap it around her
but always when she sat down, she wouldn’t
remember to arrange the folds to keep herself
covered. In this way, Sir, the innocence
of these people is such that the innocence
of Adam would not be any greater in comparison.”
In truth, the Admiral didn’t actually
have anything new to discover at all…Not
even if it were today, his ships arriving
and making port at Copacabana or in Camboriu…or
even here in the pools of Figueira…
