Corset Lessons, Week One

I thought that wearing a corset for 30 days would give me profound insights; that I’d be able to trace the decline of civilization right back to the change in women’s clothing. That after my treatise, women would swear off Spandex forever. At the least, I myself would emerge more disciplined, self-controlled, even (do I dare say it?) – statuesque.

Instead, I have no brilliant thoughts, no sense of purpose or gathering fortitude. I feel miserable, sorry for myself, and basically haven’t thought of anything but my torso since I bought and started wearing this contraption a week ago. So much for deep, spiritual lessons.

I now applaud the women who gleefully threw away their girdles as they donned their miniskirts and fishnet pantyhose. They weren’t rebels casting off all tradition in favor of hedonistic pursuits; they were gasping for air.

I’ve decided that wearing a corset killed brain cells and thwarted achievement. Women in corsets weren’t CEO’s, presidents, or Nobel Prize winners. It wasn’t male domination at all; when women finally were able to fully expand their lungs, they began to make their mark on the world.

Additionally, corsets made women grouchy, desperate for diversion. How many portraits of women in corsets show them smiling? And why did the women in Jane Austen’s world spend so much time gossiping and playing parlor games? They needed something to do.

I bet a too-tight corset is what got Marie Antoinette’s head cut off. When you can’t breathe you can’t be bothered with the hunger pangs of ill-dressed peasants. You get short-tempered. You say things you later regret. You run off to the Petite Trianon at the slightest provocation.

All that said, I’m still wearing it. Not that anyone is making me do it. I don’t really know why I’m doing this. Perhaps it’s because Cheryll ran a half-marathon and Cindy lost 30 pounds, and Pat is doing Boot Camp in a parking lot at 5:30 a.m.. I have such a dismal track record with resolutions. I have worshipped at the altar of Comfort every day. Maybe this is a kind of penance. I’m not sure.