- relaxed, free, rested If Madrid taught me to slow down, Nice forced me to STOP. You know that book full of research and lists I made for each city? I didn’t look at it ONCE. When I arrived in Nice I had been hauling ass around the UK and Spain for a week and a half only to spend a ten hour layover in London Gatwick Airport watching Pirates of the Caribbean and The Ruins. So I landed with two objectives, and two objectives only:
2)Free the Tata’s.
These may be done simultaneously or separate, on a beach or in my bed, and in no particular order. Now, there are exactly two ways of going topless at a beach on the Cote D’Azure. I can only dimwittedly compare them to the two ways you get into a cold pool on a hot summer day when you are a kid; you can start with your toes and comfortably inch your way in (or in this case out), or you can go balls (tatas) to the walls and cannonball in because #YOLO.
Here, I give you step by step instructions for both in case you’re an American girl like myself and you and your #whitegirlprobz chest ever finds itself in dire need of some free time.
Method One or ‘The American’:
Step 1 – Arrive at the beach and pick a spot where there are absolutely no humans in the general vicinity that may see and therefore judge you.
Step 2 – Arrange your towel, bag, shoes etc. in a fashion so that once you are out in the open you will not need to move in order to reach anything.
Step 3 – Lay face down on the towel, while checking constantly to make sure that no one has joined you.
Step 4 – After about an hour of incessant neighbor checking, awkwardly and with great difficulty, take your top off while your chest is still firmly to the ground, therefore essentially defeating the purpose of going topless in the first place. (but don’t worry, you can still share on Facebook and Twitter that you did and they’ll be none the wiser.)
Step 5 – Lay in the same position for entirely too long, all the while wiggling and jiggling because you are laying with your boobs and face straight on rock and it is THE most uncomfortable thing in the world. Not to mention that you can’t even relax because you are constantly looking around and checking to make sure that no one has come to gawk or take pictures of your crude self. (this is literally THE ONLY photographic evidence you will see of me going topless in France so if that’s why you’re here, HELLO and GOODBYE!!)
Step 6 – Panic! Because how in the heck are you going to get your top back on without anyone seeing your tatas?
Step 7 – After a half an hour of awkward and uncomfortable fidgeting, you finally manage to get your top and cover-up on without your boobs every having left the towel or seen the beautiful light of day. Time to head home with your head down in shame. Halfway because you can’t believe you took your top off in public at all, and halfway because you are dissapointed in yourself for your halfass attempt at freedom.
There’s a secret Step 8 here if you are still with me here – Step 8 – On the Walk of Shame home you realize that over the rock hill about 10 yards away there were about 6 topless girls (not in a group), doing there own damn thing while kids played, dogs ran and no one gave any If You Seek Amy’s. AT ALL. Zero. So you go back to your hostel and grow some balls (or tatas), and regroup. Method Two (The Normal Non-Paranoid Way):
Step 1 – Arrive at the beach with only your bottoms and a dress cover up. (Not wearing a top forces you to not back out)
Step 2 – Throw your crap on the rocks, rip your dress off and run into the water Phoebe style with your arms, legs and tatas flailing about in all their glory and splendor.
Step 3 – Now that you are nice and wet (and half naked) go adjust your towel, lay down like a normal human being with your tatas to the sun and enjoy your day because you are in France Dammit and NO ONE cares. You wanna know who doesn’t give a shit about your boobs? These girls don’t give a shit! This dog and his owner don’t give a shit! These rocks don’t give any shits at all! This guy who makes you rethink the term #SURFBOARDT couldn’t give any less shits! And best of all, this honey badger? He never gave any shits to begin with. So go one ladies, let those tatas free!!! I will fill you in on a little secret. I laid on the Pebble Beach of Nice for two days and I tried each method. Guess which one I did first?
You’re absolutely right. The American. Because I’m from #Murika and although we all love to say we don’t care about what anyone thinks of us, we are the most paranoid, acceptance-needing, tata sucking people on the planet.
But guess which one made me so I happy and carefree that I ran through the mist fountains on the way back to my hostel with my dress on and my purse and everything? Not Day One, that’s for damn sure. From my tatas to yours, Maggie the Free, @mag_and_cheese