King Girls Don't Wear Bikinis

In the 70s, there were 2 types of swimsuits: bikinis and bathing attire fit for grandmothers. There were no tankinis and cute two-pieces. Teenage girls wore bikinis. But not King Girls. Daddy said, “I know what boys are thinking when they see bikinis.”

Nobody wore a one-piece. When Starla was in the Miss Dothan pageant and the contestants had a pool party and a group picture appeared in the Dothan Eagle and Starla was the only girl in the picture in a one-piece, she was humiliated. Only our daddy could take the joy out of swimming.

Every spring held a nightmare.

It was not my nightmare, but I’m going to tell you about it. It was my older sisters’ nightmare, and it went like this: we went to all the stores in Dothan—first downtown and later at Northside and Porter Square Malls—foraging for one-piece bathing suits that weren’t mortifying for a teenage girl. What we found we took home “on approval.” (Remember doing that?) For our family, this phrase had a literal meaning. Daddy had to approve the purchase. He would hunker down in the den for a fashion show. We tried on our findings and paraded in front of him. He simply shook his head time after time after time.

There was crying and arguing on the sisters’ part and fretting and hand-wringing on Mama’s, but there was no budging on Daddy’s. My 90-lb self didn’t know what the fuss was all about, but I enjoyed the show. Oftentimes, they had to start over. Always, a suit was eventually found that was neither degrading in Daddy’s eyes nor disdainful to the girls. He never complained about the price. Modesty was expensive, and he was willing to pay.

For spring break in 1978 (actually it was AEA, remember that?), we took Little Granny to visit her sister Aunt Mary and her family in Tampa. Somebody suggested that while we had an abundance of shopping at our fingertips, we (Starla, 21; Angie, 18; Celeste, 12) should look for bathing suits. We ended up at a huge mall with a 2-story department store (gasp!). We even took our 15-year-old cousin with us. Daddy told her, “I’ll buy you a bathing suit, but it has to meet my standards.” He pulled a chair to the end of the dressing rooms and waited for The Presentation. He waaay overdid it as far as my sisters were concerned. He was aggravating and annoying—and having a ball. They probably secretly swore never to forgive him for this. I thought it was fun. My cousin’s father had never given her much attention. She loved being loved like Daddy was loving her. We all 4 got new bathing suits that day, much cuter ones than we would have found in Dothan.

How quickly life and perspective changes and little girls grow up, and how priceless moments become. It’s all about the moments, really. About 3 weeks later, Daddy died of a heart attack while on business in Mobile. The King Girls were left with a legacy of overbearing, unbridled, relentless love . . . and a cherished one-piece bathing suit.