My top tips for pain-free holiday prep are as follows: take two Nurofen before a wax, and take a Xanax before trying on bikinis. Because both are agony, and no, the knowledge that you are in this position through shallow vanity does *not* make it any better. This hit its nadir the summer I turned 32, having had two babies, and suddenly the Topshop cheapie bikinis really weren’t cutting it any more. The answer? Throw money at the problem, specifically in a Heidi Klein boutique. Most swimwear is either made for Rihanna-lookalikes with 2% body fat, or for matrons who require seatbelt-width straps and mysterious mesh panelling. Heidi Klein hits a balance: it looks pretty good, but more importantly it makes you look about as good in a bikini as you are ever going to look. I buy a bikini that looks something like this – usually navy, sometimes white – every two or three years, and never think about bikini shopping in between. Which is as painless as it gets. Jess Cartner-Morley
This ferociously expensive swimsuit changed my life. No, honestly it did, or at least how I feel about swimming pools. I had been aware of the legend of French Eres swimsuits with their technical nous and sculpting fabrics for years but had dismissed them as stuff for rich people. But last year after three major stomach operations I got both desperate and lucky. I found their classic black swimsuit with straight neckline and spaghetti straps massively reduced in my size in the netaporter sale. Wearing it is transformative – you feel as if someone is giving you a supportive hug and it stays put no matter how much toddler-chasing or pool bombing you do. The only downside is that the thick fabric is absolutely boiling in direct sun. Even so I’m hoping to get at least 10 holidays out of it. Imogen Fox
I am one of the palest people I know, with blue-tinged skin that looks a bit like gorgonzola, so I don’t feel my most alluring when swimming. However, buying a new bikini this year was more successful than expected – for which I have Colour Me Beautiful to thank. As Bridget Jones’s mother would say, I had my colours done a few months ago for a G2 feature; at the time I was slightly perturbed by the consultant’s insistence that I should wear terracotta lipstick – terracotta was, apparently, “my” shade of red. But while cringing in the changing room this summer, trying on bikinis, those words rang in my ears. I ended up buying one that very shade – the colour of a flower pot – and it made me look more milk bottle, less stilton. I am now convinced that in the unforgiving, itsy-bitsy world of bikinis, nuances of colour can make a big difference. Hannah Marriott
I’ve recently come to terms with the fact that I’m not really a string bikini person. My body shape is more Christina Hendricks than Kate Moss, so I need proper support, although for years I carried on in a Heidi Klein two-piece, regardless. So this year I bought a proper, sturdy, bra-type bikini – the kind of thing that looks like a hammock when you’re not wearing it – and it was a revelation. I would have thought that something that bulky would make me feel unsexy, but actually it gave me an hourglass shape – I felt sporty and supported and Amazonian. So now my look is Marilyn Monroe in the 1950s in a swimsuit, and on holiday I’ll wear it with a kaftan and an espadrille wedge. Jo Jones
I love swimming but only wear bikinis, mostly due to an aversion to that horrible slap of wet swimsuit when you take it off. I have quite a wardrobe of them – from a Topshop black one to an Ashley Williams number with snails on it. My favourite ever bikini was a present from my sister - mint green, with a bandeau top and simple bikini brief (anyone who says they like the string-tied ones is lying), very seventies, like something (in my imagination anyway) that a model might have worn on the cover of a Roxy Music record. I wore it pretty much non-stop for a holiday around the pool in Turkey a few years ago, until it died a death prompted by too much suntan lotion and wringing it out in the sink to wear the next day. I’ve been looking out for a similar one ever since. Lauren Cochrane
