Fashion Accessoriess

Buying a bikini online is basically a high-stakes gamble where the house always wins and the house is usually a 22-year-old influencer with a ring light and a professional retoucher. I have spent way too much of my disposable income—we’re talking thousands over the last five years—trying to find a piece of spandex that doesn’t make me look like a burst sausage or disintegrate the moment it touches chlorine.

Three years ago, I was at a beach club in Mykonos. I was wearing this gorgeous, pale blue triangle top from a brand that shall remain nameless for now (okay, it was Triangl). I thought I looked incredible. Then I jumped into the pool. Within ten minutes, the neoprene had absorbed so much water it weighed about four pounds and was migrating toward my waist. I spent the rest of the afternoon clutching my chest like a Victorian widow. It was humiliating. I felt like a fool for paying $100 to look like I was wearing a wet tire.

Anyway, Mykonos is overrated. It’s just dust, overpriced salads, and people trying too hard to look like they’re having fun. But I digress. The point is, most ‘best of’ lists for swimwear are written by people who got the suits for free and only wore them for a thirty-second TikTok transition. I actually wear these things. I swim in them. I get sand in the seams. I accidentally leave them in the trunk of my car for three days while they’re still damp. Here is the actual truth about what’s worth your money.

The part where I tell you Frankie’s Bikinis are a scam

I know people will disagree with me on this, and honestly, I might be wrong about the ‘quality’ in a technical sense, but I find Frankie’s Bikinis to be borderline offensive. They are the fast fashion of the ‘luxury’ swim world. Every week there’s a new drop, a new floral print, a new tiny string thing. But have you felt the fabric? It’s thin. It’s flimsy. It feels like paper. If you have anything larger than an A-cup, these suits are essentially a suggestion of clothing rather than actual support.

I refuse to recommend them even though everyone loves them because they are designed for people who don’t move. They are photo-only clothes. If you try to actually swim in a Frankie’s suit, you are going to have a wardrobe malfunction within three minutes. What I mean is—actually, let me put it differently. Most brands aren’t selling clothes; they’re selling the idea that you’ll suddenly have a different ribcage if you spend $180. I’m convinced that ‘hand wash only’ is just a lie brands like this tell so you can’t sue them when the suit falls apart after one dip in the ocean. Total trash.

The ‘Crinkle’ obsession and why Hunza G is actually okay

I used to think the whole ‘one size fits all’ thing was a total lie. I was completely wrong. Hunza G is the only brand that has actually figured out how to make a suit that fits me when I’m bloated, when I’m not, and when I’ve just eaten an entire pizza. Their fabric is basically the sweatpants of the ocean. It’s thick, it’s textured, and it hides a lot of sins.

The secret to Hunza G is that the fabric doesn’t rely on elastic bands that dig into your hips; the whole suit is the elastic.

That said, they take about three business days to dry. If you put one on at 10 AM, you’ll still be damp at dinner. It’s the price you pay for the comfort. I’ve owned their ‘Square Neck’ one-piece for two years and it hasn’t pilled or lost its shape. I’ve washed it in a regular washing machine (don’t tell the internet) at least 20 times. It’s still fine. Worth every penny.

The spreadsheet of shame: Real data on durability

I’m a bit of a nerd, so last summer I actually tracked the performance of 8 different brands over 12 weeks of heavy use. I measured the strap width on three different ‘large’ tops from the same brand and they varied by 1.2 centimeters. That’s insane. Here is what I found after 15 beach trips and 10 pool sessions:

• Monday Swimwear: Lost 8% of its elasticity in the waistband after 5 washes. Still looks good, but the ‘hold’ isn’t what it used to be.
• YouSwim: Zero pilling. The most durable by far, though the ribbing is a bit aggressive.
• Bondi Born: The fabric feels like scuba gear. It’s expensive ($250+), but it literally does not move.
• Amazon ‘Dupes’: I tested three. Two of them turned translucent the moment they got wet. Never again.

If you’re looking for something that actually functions as a garment, Monday Swimwear is usually my go-to, even with the slight stretching. Devin Brugman and Tash Oakley actually have boobs, so they design for people who have bodies that aren’t just straight lines. Their ‘Clovelly’ top is the only underwire bikini I’ve ever worn that didn’t feel like a medieval torture device by 3 PM. But be warned: their sizing is inconsistent. I have a Medium in one style that fits like a Small, and a Large in another that’s huge. It’s annoying. You’ll be doing a lot of returns.

Let’s talk about the ‘sustainable’ brands for a second

Everyone is using Econyl now. It’s great. It’s recycled fishing nets. But can we be honest? Just because it’s recycled doesn’t mean it’s a good bikini. I bought a suit from a very popular ‘sustainable’ brand last year—I won’t name them because they seem like nice people—and the dye bled so badly it stained my skin green. I looked like I was decaying. Sustainability shouldn’t mean I have to look like a swamp monster.

I’m also over the ‘minimalist’ trend where the bikini is just two tiny triangles and a prayer. Why are we paying more for less fabric? I saw a brand selling a ‘micro’ top for $95. It was literally two square inches of fabric. That is a profit margin that should be illegal. I know, I sound like my mother. But at some point, we have to admit that the ‘luxury’ swimwear market is just gaslighting us into thinking that a string is worth a week’s worth of groceries.

I’ve bought the same $120 top from Monday Swimwear four times now in different colors. I don’t care if something better exists; I’m tired of looking. Once you find something that doesn’t make you want to cry in a communal changing room, you stick with it. That’s the whole trick.

I still haven’t found the ‘perfect’ bikini. I don’t think it exists. Every time I think I’ve found it, I realize the straps are too long or the color fades after one week in the sun. Is it too much to ask for a suit that stays on, covers what it needs to, and doesn’t cost as much as a car payment? Maybe. For now, I’ll just keep my spreadsheet updated and hope for the best next summer. Buy the Bondi Born if you’re rich; buy the Hunza G if you want to be comfortable; avoid the rest.

I genuinely don’t know why we all keep doing this to ourselves every June. Why are we so obsessed with these tiny pieces of cloth? I’m going to go eat a sandwich now.