There is a point to this. I saw a book at the grocery store, one of those dime-a-dozen smutty paperbacks I've been so fond of lately and it was called 'The Corset Diaries'. I bought it, I read it, I giggled. And then, I was inspired to grab my corset out of the closet where it has been moldering for years and put it on.
Ouch. And may I say again, OUCH!!
Sweet baby Jesus on a stick, what a horror. It seems that six years is long enough to forget that for several hours I could barely breathe, had a rather military-like bearing and creaked whenever I moved.
I did look right sexy, though. But let me tell you, I would rather be my flabby self and make people run away screaming than wear that thing for longer that the ten minutes it took me to get it off.
I STILL have lines down my front where the plastic stays kept me in place. Damn, the things women will put up with in order to fulfill society's notions of beauty and feminity.
I also recall the shoes I had to wear that night and how I creaked and minced and gasped for air all night long. It was tragic. But, I look really good in the photographs.
Sometimes, I think I'm shallow.