“It lifts and separates. Plus, it’s not like I’m actually paying for it.”
Well, I have taken two half steps regarding my by Christmas goals and intentions and its addendum. While not undergarments per se, I procured today, somewhat unexpectedly but with much delight and enthusiasm, a leather corset. Yes, corsets are kind of instead of a bra, but this one is of the style to be worn on the outside of one’s clothing or, simply, as one’s clothing. Think steam punk kind of corset. Heart shaped neckline, green alligator print center panel, and dark green, smooth leather for the rest of it, with tarnished silver clasps in two columns in the front and laces in the center back.
And oh, my gosh, does it look amazing. On me, I mean.
We were at RenFest, and I had just wanted to try the styles on to see how I liked the idea of, one day, getting a leather corset for myself. I always saw this blue and black one on the front gate of this particular shop, and kind of longed for it or something like it in my life.
So, after much hesitation and working through if mental struggled, I asked if we needed to have on a shirt to try on the corsets – all other women had been in blouses, so far as I had seen, and my piece-of-leather top would not work with a corset. When the answer was an emphatic negatory, I asked if I could go ahead and try one on, then, and if someone would dress me in it. The man who had originally stared conversation with me about the shop and its/his family told me that I absolutely could and that he could help dress me. So, he did. And he did a wonderful job.
I loved the straight-across one I tried first. Actually, it was second, because the first straight one was actually too large. He was clear about that quite quickly, when the laces went all the way in, almost immediately. But, once I got the next size down, I found that I liked the straight one on me.
I spoke up, however, and requested to try on the other shape just to see it on me, too, even though they’d said it tended to be more of a style worn by bustier women, a group of which I am certainly not part. They thought there were none around in my size, but the one guy came walking up with two in his hands – they had been on front display, and so hadn’t been tested at all or purchased. A blue and a green one. The blue was very much the blue of a friend of mine, and not my liken of blue. The green was an earthy, olive-y green. I selected the green to try, though after hearing my mom’s opinion and hat of the shopkeeper’s. When he had finished lacing me into it, and I turned to look myself over in the mirror, I was somewhat shocked. Not only did it look nice on me, it looked gooood. Kind of to the point that a small part of me wondered who else – beside myself – had a sudden urge to grab me and rip my clothes off of me in a fit of instant and utter desire and lust. It looked that good. I looked that good.
I knew I wanted it. I knew I wanted to be the person who would wear it confidently and proudly, yet humbly and gratefully. As it would be a significant investment, however, I took my time considering whether to purchase this one, here and now, or to wait for another time, even possibly to have one custom-made instead. To consider whether this green would be as much of a delight as my earlier-desired brown.
While I considered, several women, eyes bulging when they registered me, commented supporting comments to me or near me about the corset on me. The shopkeeper kindly informed me that 1) several women had said I needed to get the corset, and that 2) I looked spectacular in it. He was being genuine, and it meant a lot that had had given his personal opinion, as I knew he was not just trying to be flirtatious or just sell something.
Seeing as how it was actually quite cold out, I eventually removed the corset, and dressed back in my leather too and skirt and faux-fur cloak to finish considering with a not-shaking body and a warm conscience. Once dressed again, I could think more clearly. I wanted first to see the dark green leather in the sunlight. I wanted to confirm that it stood out as clearly not-black in sunlight. I’m not a black person. Earthy tones and natural tones galore, sure, but not black.
The second thing was the tougher thing. I told my mom, ‘I have a small part in me that worries I will be slutty, a slut, and whore in this,’ and, ‘I think I just need to be told that it is okay and safe for me – for me – to wear this.’ Due to my history with certain men, there is still a part of me that is scared with things like this. While I am always gentle with her, I always acknowledge what she has to say before firmly telling her what’s truly so. When my mom said what I felt I needed to hear – though I already knew it to be true – that scared girl within me calmed down, and I finally was able to choose freely for myself.
Naturally, I chose the corset.
And, boy, am I glad I did. I can hardly wait to wear it.