Corsets, aka life suckers

Due to Valentine’s Day, I keep getting emails from stores that I’ve shopped at telling me I should purchase a corset to please my man. Make my undesirables more desirable. Instead of being a round figure, I should be an hour glass figure.

Either way, I see the point of having a corset. It gives you that decidedly feminine shape. It makes your clothes look better by creating more space in some areas and filling up others. And of course back in the day it was completely necessary because Heaven forbid that a woman should be nice and soft to the touch. Oh, silly me… back then you didn’t touch women.


Nowadays, the corset predominantly has a different use. It’s a tool of seduction. Cinch in your waist and push up your breasts. (Although, lingerie models nowadays don’t really have much of a waist to cinch in the first place.) Of course I want to be sexy, so I figured a corset was the way to go.


I gave in, made my way to the mall, and tried one on. First of all, it was the most difficult experience of my life. I managed to get it on and moderately tight, but then I couldn’t get it off. I was actually stuck in this corset in the ladies’ fitting room. I was panting and grunting and working up a sweat trying desperately to get the darn thing off. The sales associate actually knocked on the door to ask if everything was alright. What was I supposed to say? “No! I’m trapped in a corset and can’t get out!” Ha. I managed to eventually pull it up and over my head. When I finally left the fitting room, thankfully dressed in my own clothes, but with my hair plastered to my head and my makeup completely sweated off, I may have been asked not to return to the store……

But let’s talk about what it was like while the corset was on. Indeed my waist was cinched and my breasts were elevated. But that doesn’t mean it was a good thing. It was like the corset took all the fat from around my middle and pushed it both up and down. My waist was definitely smaller, but I absolutely couldn’t breathe. Imagine if I’d had someone else tightening it up to how it should have been! There would have been absolutely no air!

Can't breathe....  *gasp*
Can’t breathe…. *gasp*

And yes, my boobs were elevated. They were elevated to the point of no gravitational pull at all. All I could see were boobs. It was horrifying. I’m already used to not being able to see my feet (I haven’t seen them since 2001), but I actually couldn’t see ANYTHING. Additionally, my love handles seemed to triple in size. Not that I could see that had happened but I could feel it and it wasn’t a pretty feeling. You know what Italian sausage looks like when you cut it into bite-size pieces and then cook it? The middle bit is held in place by the casing, but either end is bursting out all over the place? Yeah… That was me. Thus began the removal attempts.

Lesson learned: corsets are good for some and not so good for others. Yikes!


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