Michael Chase I was at the downtown YMCA in November 2021, trying to do a standard flip turn in lane four, when my swimsuit decided it was done being a swimsuit. It was one of those ‘sporty’ ones from a big-name yoga brand—I won’t name them, but their logo looks like a stylized ‘A’—and as I pushed off the wall, the neckline just… gave up. The water rushed in, the fabric ballooned out, and I basically mooned the guy in lane five while nearly drowning in my own drag. It was humiliating. I spent the rest of the set clutching my chest like a Victorian widow.
That was the day I realized most ‘sport’ swimsuits are just fashion items with better marketing. If you’re actually moving—really moving, not just posing on a paddleboard—you need something that functions like a piece of industrial equipment, not an outfit. I’ve spent the last two years testing exactly how much chlorine and friction a suit can take before it turns into a wet diaper. I’ve tracked 42 hours of pool time across six different brands, and I have some thoughts that might piss people off.
The ‘sustainable’ lie I’m tired of hearing
I know people will disagree with me here, and I’ll probably get some angry comments, but I am completely over ‘sustainable’ swimsuits made from recycled ocean plastic. I’ve tried three of them—one from a boutique brand in California that cost $110—and they all failed the same way. After exactly 12 swims (I counted), the recycled nylon loses its memory. It gets thin. It sags at the butt. What I mean is—actually, let me put it differently. It’s not sustainable if I have to throw it in a landfill after six weeks because it’s become transparent.
If you want a suit for actual sport, you need PBT (Polybutylene Terephthalate). It’s a type of polyester that doesn’t stretch as much as Lycra, which makes it a pain to get on, but it won’t dissolve in chlorine. I’ve found that a 100% polyester suit will outlast a ‘recycled’ blend by at least 200 pool miles. It’s not as soft. It feels a bit like wearing a high-tech tarp. I don’t care. I want to swim, not feel pampered. Total garbage.
The only suits that actually stay put
When it comes to the best one piece swimsuit sport enthusiasts actually use, I have a very narrow list. I’ve narrowed it down to two categories: the ‘tank’ and the ‘tie-back’.
- The Jolyn Brandon: This is my irrational loyalty suit. I have bought the same Navy Blue Brandon suit three times. I don’t care if there are newer designs. The tie-back allows you to adjust for the fact that your body changes throughout the month, and it never, ever moves during a dive.
- Speedo Endurance+: I’m going to be honest, I hate the way these feel. The fabric is scratchy and has zero ‘give.’ It feels like wearing a burlap sack. But if you want a suit that will literally outlive you, this is it. I have one from 2018 that still looks brand new.
- TYR Durafast Elite: This is the middle ground. It’s 94% polyester and 6% spandex, which gives you just enough stretch to breathe without the suit turning into a parachute during a sprint.
Most people buy a size too large because they want to be comfortable in the locker room. If the suit is easy to put on while you’re dry, it’s going to be a disaster once you’re wet. It should be a struggle.
Anyway, back to the point. The construction of the straps is usually where these things fail. If the straps are thin and ‘feminine,’ they’re going to dig into your traps and leave red welts after 1,000 yards. You want wide straps or a cross-back design that distributes the pressure. I once wore a suit with ‘fashionable’ thin straps for a 2-mile open water swim and ended up with scars that looked like I’d been attacked by a very specific, very tiny tiger.
A mini-rant about ‘modesty’ in sport suits
Here is a take that I know is controversial: High-cut legs are more modest than low-cut legs for actual swimming. I might be wrong about the physics here, but in my experience, the more fabric you have around the thighs (like those ‘boy-cut’ suits), the more the fabric has a chance to bunch up and migrate. A high-cut racing leg stays exactly where it’s supposed to. It looks more revealing in the mirror, but it reveals a lot less when you’re doing a butterfly stroke. I refuse to buy anything with a ‘skirt’ or a low leg line anymore. They are drag-inducing nightmares. Never again.
I used to think I needed a suit with built-in cups. I was completely wrong. If you are doing sport, you want compression, not padding. Padding just holds water and makes you heavier. It’s like trying to swim while carrying two wet sponges on your chest. It’s a weird sensation that I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy.
The verdict is boring, but true
I wish I could tell you there’s a magical $30 suit on Amazon that rivals the pro gear, but there isn’t. I’ve tried the ‘Zoggs’ and the ‘Kanibi’ knockoffs. They last about 4 weeks before the elastic in the seams starts snapping with a disgusting little ‘pop’ sound every time you move. It’s a waste of money.
If you are serious about getting your laps in, just buy a Jolyn or a TYR Durafast. Specifically, look for something with at least 50% PBT polyester. It won’t be the cutest thing you own. You might have a bit of ‘muffin top’ around the leg holes because the fabric is so tight. But you won’t have to worry about your suit falling off when you hit the water at 10 miles an hour. That peace of mind is worth every penny.
Does anyone else find that the smell of chlorine never truly leaves their skin, or is it just me? I’ve tried the special soaps, but I’m pretty sure my DNA has just been permanently altered at this point. Buy the Jolyn.
