Mary Killen’s Beauty Tips
Feminists dislike the corset, but you would be hard-pressed to find another item of clothing with the same potential for dramatic enhancement of your look.
Yes, there are health risks attached to being hardly able to breathe for the sake of looking good. And the corset has historic cultural links with misogyny and oppression.
In the days of Victorian ‘fainting culture’, when frailty was considered a hallmark of beauty, it was deemed feminine and appropriate, even, for young women to collapse – ideally onto a chaise longue – in direct response to being over-tightly corseted.
The chaise longue had its heyday in the 1890s, offering a conveniently shaped soft landing for the multiple fainters at parties. Fainting certainly ensured that the woman became the centre of attention, something she often secretly desired.
But let’s look past the dark and fetishistic connotations of corsets and consider instead what a well-made, well-fitting, modern version can do for its wearer.
Although not widely available in mainstream shops, corsets are making a quiet comeback. Even we oldies can achieve
a variation on the hourglass figure if we apply ourselves to the undeniably tricky task of lacing ourselves up without the help
of a maidservant. And if we are aware that our décolletage, squashed upwards, may not be ideal in those women suffering from ‘quilting’.
I became interested in corsets when Emily, a junior friend, with whom I had lunch, turned up again that evening at a drinks party.
At lunch, she had been hunched over in a baggy jumper and tracksuit bottoms, and looked rather bulky.
She walked into the drinks party wearing a floor-length velvet coat, which I saw her carefully take off, fold and place in a paper carrier bag behind a sofa. As she stood up, her silhouette was outlined against the blue-grey of the summer street through a window behind her and the transformation was staggering.
The shoulders were no longer hunched as she crossed the room. She seemed taller, more erect, her head held high as if she were carrying a book on it. And the cleavage!
As I breached the cluster of admirers around her, the mystery was revealed. She was wearing a highly laced, black leather corset, not under a top but as the top.
I had never seen her look more beguiling. The tiny waist, the strong but feminine shoulders. The bosom – suddenly ample. Emily smiled seraphically as she fed off the attention from men and women alike. In my day, one went to corsetière Rigby & Peller, once the Royal Warrant holder – ‘Corsetières to H M The Queen’. Rigby
& Peller prided itself on fitting women with the correct-size cup. So many were in wrongly sized, off-the-peg bras. They did long-line bras in cream satin with pointy cups, and these looked fabulous under gauze dresses. But they never stocked saucy lace-ups. Emily told me how her ‘corset journey’ had begun. ‘I came across an Instagram ad for Corset Story and soon became obsessed. Within a year, I was the proud owner of no fewer than 15 corsets and I wear them to every semi-smart event I am invited to.’
Storage is a problem. They are bulky, unwieldy garments and not designed to hang in a wardrobe. They must lie flat on a shelf, ideally with nothing on top of them, to prevent the metal bones from warping.
Moreover, Emily admits, this alchemy comes at a price. ‘You can tie your corset too tight and find yourself prostrate at a party while someone else is forced to pick at the tangle of ribbon in the small of your back.’
As well as the physical advantages of wearing a corset, such as the gradual improvement of posture and incremental reduction of waist size through waist- training, there are apparently other – psychological – benefits.
The corset provides an element of deep pressure therapy. It feels like a secure, constant hug, which is naturally comforting and grounding to many people (the way that being swaddled is comforting to a child).
One neurotic Gen Z member tells me that the corset’s stability has helped her to feel more in control of and less vulnerable to the unpredictable stresses of daily life.
I now own a lace-up corset myself. It is a uniquely powerful garment. My carriage is instantly improved, my chest high, my shoulders back. The poise afforded by this posture silently commands respect from others.
The oldie woman can also give herself a taut and shapely waist-cinching outline – under a top. It would be unseemly to wear one as the top, as Emily does.
Or, if your décolletage is quilt-free, you can wear it with a light cardigan or pashmina to mask the horrors of your upper arms, as I must.
A calm descends when you are confident that your whole trunk runs in a seamless line. The boning keeps any rolls of fat out of the picture.
