So, truth: I’m not really a “beach person.” I grew up in the middle of America, where chlorinated pools were de rigeur and the only “beaches” to be had were on small lakes with a set of buoys to keep you from venturing too far. (And I also burn like a lobster, so, there’s that excuse too.) I never experienced a true tide, a rumbling wave, beach glass, the smell of salt water and the taste of fresh clams until I moved to the East Coast. Now that I have — well, I kind of love it! I’m not about to go lay out anytime soon — at least not without the aid of a giant umbrella! — but with these antique bathing suited youths as role models, I might just have to brave the water. I want a romper suit made of wool, high socks and a bathing cap! Nudity be damned.