How Does a Man Buy a Girl’s Swimsuit?
As a gay, white man who had adopted a biracial daughter, I was at a loss when it came to choosing her bathing suits. I once outfitted her in a red cotton two-piece crocheted by my mother — a stylish yet impractical choice, which I learned when it got soaking wet.
The summer she turned 4, she said, “Papa, can we go to the pool park?” “Right away,” I said, and then regretted it. Because we weren’t prepared.
She was growing fast and needed new swimwear. Shopping on my own the next day at a discount department store, I puzzled over finding something she would like that would stay put, finally settling on a sturdy light blue wet-suit kind of thing that came down to her knees and elbows.
Walking my girl in her new full piece to the nearby Harlem pool, I saw a long line ahead. On our third attempt at a midsummer swim, I had come to expect what felt like multi-factor authentication for New York City public pool-goers.
