Spring break is approaching and like many you are headed south to warmer weather. Winter and the stress of third quarter have left you hardly any time to overthink the usual pre-spring break festivities. You’ve neglected to self-tan your fluorescently-white skin and your usual attempt at a juice cleanse. You’re left with one last chance to redeem yourself this spring break: finding the perfect swimsuit.

Frantically you scroll through pages and pages of swimsuits online. After selecting a few, and might I say fairly mediocre ones, you reach the checkout. Although suddenly realize the delivery date would be two days after your departure to Cabo, and you are not about to pay $39.99 for express shipping. Your next move is to head to the mall.

After driving the 30 minutes it takes to get to the burbs of Oak Park, you’ve arrived at a crowd favorite, Nordstroms. You push through the mobs of frantic shoppers and ride the escalator up to the picked over swimsuit section. The once overly-exciting experience of shopping now seems like a miserable task. Finally you decide the burden of swimsuit shopping is too much, and decide to borrow your mother’s vintage high wasted bikini.