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Page 7 THE EMERALD TRUNKS "When do you think you'll be getting the satin lastex suits in?" Mary Edington, 17th Beach - 1921 Two things stand out clearly in my mind about John Lawson's orchard and neither of them is apples. The first was the dusty, rutted road that cut almost diagonally between 16th and 17th Streets behind the stores that fronted on Marine - near where Safeway stands today. The road started on 16th Street south of the Messinger Block and emerged at 17th north of the P.G.E. right-of-way. How it came to be so rutted, I don't know for I never once in all the years that I swam at 17th beach recall seeing a vehicle on it. The second thing I remember about the orchard was its long, unkempt veldt-like grass that mercifully and forever relieved me of the emerald trunks. How I hated that bathing suit! It was a two-piece affair made of fine wool which itched horribly when dry and weighted me down like a stone when wet. The main part of this creation was a white tank suit cut rather high at the legs so that none of the white would hang out from the bottom of the emerald green trunks which were worn over it. (I never saw that startling colour again until recent years when it blossomed on the balconies and arched top of St. Georges Place, the landmark building to the west of Lions Gate Hospital). The trunks were anchored to my body with a webbed belt and cinched snugly with a metal clasp and it was these hideous trunks - this integral part of the suit - that I lost somewhere in the rank grass of the orchard. Bless you, John Lawson! Each surnner season saw the introduction of a new swimsuit style. The suit that I remember next was one of sturdy cotton duck. Mine had a geometric pattern in magenta and white and it laced up like a corset over the hip bones. The lacings were a bit of a nuisance because, for style, one sacrificed convenience always having to unlace one side completely in order to get into or out of the suit. Perhaps, in the designer's mind, the laces would accentuate a pair of sleek pelvic bones but as I was a bit on the chubby side, all it did for me was to raise ridges of herringbone welts where svelte was meant to be. I can't remember the sequence. Was it 'ripplies' first and then the skirts or the other way around? The problem with 'ripplies' - at least the pastel shades - was that the material was so light weight that when the suits got wet they became quite diaphanous and there was a rush to sew re-enforcing pieces of cotton at strategic points. Our family album shows me in a combined style -body-hugging 'ripplie' at the top with a full flared skirt. The photo is black and white; the memory; living colour. Mine was blue with small, white polka dots and my sister's green with white and they were just great - as sunsuits but, of course, the minute one waded into the water, the skirt was launched billowing all around and settling on the surface like a bed of seaweed. The real breakthrough in swimsuits was the arrival of satin lastex which was nothing short of sensational - form fitting and shinmering in the sunlight. My older sister certainly had the figure for it - her suit, a profusion of flowers in dazzling colours, was absolutely gorgeous. Mine, on the other hand, was