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…
