Dialogue: Forget Mr Universe, go for the Invisible Man

It is already the end of November and summer, the season to display your body on the beach in all its rippling and chiselled glory, is nearly upon is.

If you aren't already halfway through your 12-week Buns of Steel workout routine, your Eat Your Way to the Perfect Bikini-Body diet, or your jumbo pack of Official Bulgarian Olympic Weightlifting Team suppositories, you're in trouble. Big trouble.

Such big trouble that when you go to the beach this summer, you could be in danger of being cordoned off from the other beachgoers while the lifeguards erect signs that read: Warning: Elephant Seal in Vicinity - May be Dangerous if Provoked.

Preparing your body for the beach is something that can't be done overnight. So if the thought of removing your shirt in public sets off tidal waves of nausea, you need to think about an alternative strategy for enjoying your summer.

One of the more popular strategies is liposuction. This is a simple process where pieces of troublesome body mass are moved from those parts of the body where they cause distress to those parts where their presence is more warmly appreciated by the population at large.

This procedure is not without pain. During the operation the doctor will attach a large siphon-like device to your wallet, connect it to his bank account, and pump furiously for the better part of two hours.

If there is anything left at the end of the operation, you won't be the only one who is surprised.

Obviously, liposuction is not for everyone, and there are less dramatic ways to prepare an imperfect body for the beach.

Makeup can be used to good effect when diluted in seawater, mixed with sunscreen and smeared all over the body. With the application of seaweed in generous quantities, it is then a simple matter of striking a pose that captures the windswept essence of serenity, and one can cross that thin wavy line which separates living artwork from deranged beach lunatic.

Be aware that posing as a living artwork has its dangers. Care should be taken to stay away from children, dog control officers and elephant seals (especially those on heat). The aesthetically uneducated seldom treat artistic creativity with the respect that it deserves.

The most obvious way to hide an unfit body on the beach is to spend as much time in the water as possible. This is a sensible policy as long as your deodorant hasn't been manufactured from shark byproducts.

If you do decide to enter the water, don't dawdle in the shallows drawing attention to yourself.

At the beach, an unsightly body is excused so long as its wearer holds it with confidence and enters the water without delay.

It is not a valid excuse to refuse to go in above your knees because you fear that your extra kilos, when submerged, could cause a sudden and catastrophic rise in global sea levels.

Once in the water, don't grow overconfident. If you lack the muscles of a man who can swim to South America and back, it is best not to set off in that direction in case you cannot return.

Whatever you do, don't get into a situation where you have to be rescued by lifeguards.

Nothing is quite as embarrassing as an unfit beachgoer being hauled into an inflatable dinghy (or, worse, towed into shore behind the dinghy), and then pumped dry by air-brushed youths who look as if they have just wandered off the set of an underwear commercial.

Perhaps the best way to obscure an untoned torso is to arrange for it to be buried in the sand. Small children and enthusiastic dogs perform this service for free.

Simply find a nice, quiet spot somewhere and fall asleep under an umbrella. When you wake an hour later, you'll find yourself trapped beneath a mountainous dune, with the umbrella sticking out at an angle that has every chance of being classified as objectionable by the Chief Censor.

Take care with the tides. Sand-burying should be performed when the tide is going out. An incoming tide, however, introduces an element of excitement that is normally reserved for less static activities, such as alligator-wrestling or chainsaw-juggling.

After you have been freed from the sand by a friendly beach-goer, passing earthmoving equipment or a heavy-lift helicopter, you can then return home and, without even noticing, transfer half the beach to your living-room floor.

A 6cm layer of sand on the carpet at the end of the day is irrefutable proof that, no matter how out-of-shape you may be, you had an excellent time.

It also means that when next summer rolls around, you can take your shirt off at the beach without even stepping outside.

* Willy Trolove is an Auckland writer.