Diary of a Gen Z Student: Finding a decent bikini in 2025 is no mean feat

From nip slips to covering those hips there's a lot to be worrying about

It's all too easy to get stuck between a rock and a hard place when trying to find the perfect bikini. Picture: Alamy/PA

Any time I use a changing room in a clothes shop, I find myself asking the same question: Does the person that designed the changing room actually want to sell clothes to the public?

I’ll leave the changing room with my head drooping low. Feeling like I’ve just completed a high-intensity exercise class, cheeks flushed, hyperventilating, my hair reaching levels of frizz I never knew to be possible. 

I hand all of the clothes back to the member of staff bearing witness to my distress. I consider everything that is going wrong in the modern changing room. The curtains that don’t close all the way, fluorescent overhead lighting, the miniscule amount of space, the distinct lack of air circulating, the funhouse mirrors.

You’ll stand in front of the mirror, new blemishes appearing by the second. You may feel rested, but that lighting means your under-eye bags tell a different story. Your pale skin loses all sense of vitality. The clothes may fit, but it’ll still look like there’s something off. You’re not alone in this experience, for two reasons: Firstly, the person in the next changing room is likely suffering a similar crisis of self- confidence; secondly, the curtain has remained slightly open for the entirety of your fashion show, so innocent bystanders have shared in this emotional rollercoaster.

It’s a painful experience any time of year, but especially as we come into the summer months: As brave women across Ireland embark on the perilous journey to purchasing swimwear. This week, I have been one such woman. Finding a decent bikini in 2025 is no mean feat.

You see, bikinis are not what they used to be. The numerous triangles that you tied around yourself five years ago have undergone some change. For one thing, they’ve significantly shrunk in size. Now, I’m no prude. I’m about as perky as I’ll ever be and if you can’t get the cheeks out when you’re in your 20s, when can you? But there’s a time and place. 

If I’m going to the beach with my family, I’d like to avoid giving anyone a fright. It’s probably got to be something to do with my Irish upbringing. No matter how hard I try, ye old Catholic guilt and shame persists. My bikini choice should be distinct from my morality. But there I was, sweating in a changing room, wondering if the church has brought in an online booking system for confession yet.

As if the coverage of the bikini wasn’t enough to grapple with, the fit must also be considered. What does one do when the top and bottom come in a set of one size? Maybe I shouldn’t be admitting to this, but what about us imbalanced folk? We spend our lives being told about good, strong, child-bearing hips. Not so much about trying to fit those hips into the bikini bottoms that correspond with the size of your top half. Some of us were not blessed with perfect proportions. Dear bikini manufacturer, do we not deserve bikinis?

Even if you manage to find a halfway decent bikini in the changing room, you’ve only won a battle. The war begins when you attempt to wear that bikini on the beach or for a dip in the sea. If you make it through a beach trip without an accidental flashing, then, and only then, have you won the war. It is a rare bikini that will carry you (literally and figuratively) through such an excursion. I do wonder, why should we be so worried about the odd nip slip? If it’s not a problem on a beach in France, why should we be stressing about it in Portmarnock? 

Sure, the second it hits 14 ºC here, men refuse t-shirts. As a society, we seem to have accepted that. I like to think we’re progressive enough that having nipples shouldn’t be a scandal.

Maybe this is a conversation to be having in the girls’ group chat, but it can be difficult to put things into perspective when you’re running your daily struggles past the girls. 

It’s too easy for them to relate; things tend to dissolve into a frenzy of shared experience. We’re all too traumatised by the changing rooms and the nip slips to be dishing out advice. 

They’ll just remind me how easy it is for a tampon string to dangle out of a bikini bottom (not helpful). Really, I’m grand, but if anyone knows of any good support groups, or bikinis, my Instagram DMs are always open.