AT 67, I WATCHED MY GRANDSON LEARN TO SWIM FROM A TOWEL ON THE SAND. AGAIN.

Maggie Crawford

Southern Highlands · September 2026

Every January we go down to the same beach. My daughter, her husband, the two boys, and me on a towel with the bags and the sunscreen and everybody's thongs.

 

That is my job. I hold the towels. I have held the towels for twelve years.

 

In January my grandson Charlie, who is seven, came running up the sand with his goggles on his forehead and asked if I was coming in. Not the polite ask. The real one, because he had just learned to float and wanted someone to watch.

 

I said what I always say. "Not today, love. You go on."

 

He was already running back before I finished.

My spot. Twelve years of it.

THE PHOTOGRAPHS

That night my daughter sent the photos through, the way she does.

 

The boys in the water. Her husband in the water. Her in the water.

 

Me on the towel in a black T-shirt and a sarong, holding somebody's hat.

 

I scrolled back a year. Same. Another year. Same. I went back as far as the phone would let me, and I could not find one photograph of myself in the sea since 2014.

I had not decided to stop swimming. I just stopped, one summer at a time, and nobody noticed. Including me.

IT WAS NEVER MY BODY. IT WAS THE SWIMSUITS.

Here is the thing I only worked out this year, at 67.

 

I used to buy my swimsuits the way everyone does, off a rack, in whatever the biggest size on the hanger was. A regular suit made longer in the leg and wider in the hip, but the same length through the body.

 

So the straps cut into my shoulders within the hour. The top rode up the moment I sat down, and the middle of it never quite reached the bottom half. I would spend the whole day pulling at it, and the second I stood up out of the water I would be checking that everything was still where it should be.

 

Then I would put the T-shirt back on over the top and decide the water was a bit cold anyway.

 

Twenty years of fitting rooms and I had drawn the obvious conclusion. The suits were fine, so it must be me.

 

It was not me. It was the suits. They were not built for this body. They were built for a smaller one and stretched.

Same me, one change apart. The only difference is the swimsuit.

I ORDERED THREE

I found the collection at Willows Kiama and sat with the iPad that night, fully expecting to be disappointed.

 

There were forty-two of them, which was the first surprise. Tankinis with a top that comes down over the bottoms, swim dresses, one-pieces, some with little shorts underneath. Florals, stripes, a navy one that reminded me of a suit I had in my thirties.

 

I have spent twenty years taking whatever fitted. I had forgotten what choosing feels like.

 

I ordered three. Delivery was free, and there are thirty days to send back whatever does not work, so the worst that could happen was a trip to the post office.

See The Swimwear Collection

WHAT ACTUALLY HAPPENED IN THE FITTING ROOM AT HOME

I kept the Sophie, a blue and white tankini set.

 

The straps are wide and they sit flat on the shoulder. No red marks, and nothing digging in by lunchtime. The top is long enough to come down over the bottoms, so there is no gap and nothing to keep tugging at. The fabric is thick, and it does not go see-through in the water, which I checked before I went anywhere near a beach.

 

And it stays put. That is the whole thing, really. I got out of the water and did not have to check anything.

 

I sent the other two back and the money was in my account the following week.

The Sophie. I wore the same one four days running in January.

THE THIRD SATURDAY OF SUMMER

We went back to the same beach. Same towels, same bags, same thongs in a pile.

 

Charlie came running up with the goggles and started the ask, and I was already standing up.

 

He stopped dead. He said, "Are you actually coming?"

 

I got in up to my shoulders and he showed me his float about nine times. It was freezing and I stayed in for forty minutes.

WHAT I DID NOT EXPECT

One. I stopped thinking about it. Not in a brave way. I got in the water and forgot what I was wearing, which I now realise is what everybody else has been doing all along.

 

Two. Nobody looked. Nobody has ever looked. I spent twelve years on a towel protecting myself from something that was not happening.

 

Three. The photographs. My daughter sent through the new ones a week later. There is one of Charlie and me in the water, both squinting, both up to our shoulders.

She captioned it: Nan's in.

Nan's in. First one since 2014.

ABOUT THE PRICE

They are $64.95 AUD, down from $159.95.

 

Willows is a small shop in Kiama, and they are closing down and selling off the lot, which is the only reason the prices are what they are. 300+ reviews, 4.2 stars. 

 

Delivery is free, and there are thirty days to send anything back. That is what made me brave enough to order three at once, and I would do the same again.

IF YOU WERE SITTING ON THE TOWEL NEXT TO ME

Have a look at your photographs from last summer. If you are on the sand in every single one, holding somebody's hat, you know exactly what I am telling you.

 

You did not decide to stop going in. Nobody does. You just bought suit after suit that was never made for you, and after enough of them you assume the problem is you.

 

It is not, and it never was.

 

A swimsuit will not give you back the twelve summers. But there is another one coming, and Charlie will be eight.

 

I still hold the towels. I just do not stay on them any more.

 

Maggie

THE QUILTED ANIMAL BAG COLLECTION

★★★★☆ 4.2 out of 5 from 300+ reviews

$139.95 AUD $64.95 AUD

✓ Wide straps that sit flat and do not dig in
✓ Tops long enough to come down over the bottoms
✓ Thick fabric that does not go sheer when wet
✓ Stays put when you get out of the water
✓ 42 styles: tankinis, swim dresses, one-pieces
✓ Free AUS delivery
✓ 30-Day Money-Back Guarantee

See The Swimwear Collection

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