Corsets, Not!

Hubby and I are 1940s re-enactors. That's not as boring as it probably sounds. What we do, is attend the growing number of forties events, which take place all over the country every weekend during the season - the 'season' being from May to September - in period dress. My husband portrays a US army officer, and I have several original forties civilian outfits, complete with gloves, hats, jewellery and handbags.

This is great fun; we are always photographed - the visitors go as much to see people dressed up, as they do for the day out - and it also provides a living history lesson for the children.
There are loads of things going on at these events. Military vehicles, mock air raids, 40s fashion shows, canteens selling forties food - usually Spam fritters and Woolton pie; and a singer or band - forties tunes of course. One we attended recently had John Miller, nephew of the great Glen Miller, and his wonderful orchestra. There are also lots of trade stands selling 40s clothing and memorabilia, and often a dance in the evening. Some places hold battle re-enactments, and, weather permitting, at a few events there is a Spitfire flypast or display by other WWII planes, so a great day out can be had by all. The women love the fashion shows and browsing through the clothes at the trade stands, the men like the military vehicles, battles and aeroplanes, they both enjoy the music, and the kids just like everything.
An added bonus is that some of them are held at the old railway stations. So for the price of your ticket, you also get to ride up and down on those wonderful steam trains all day long if you wish.

Anyway, the point of this story is to tell you about a shopping expedition this week. I've put on a bit of weight recently. Not a massive amount, but I do have some wobbly bits. So, I went into a well-known store - you know, the one that does the nice food advertised by Dervla Kirwan, who coincidentally, played Phoebe in Goodnight Sweetheart, a sitcom about a man who time-travelled back to the forties - to buy some 'hold-you-in' underwear. I have recently purchased a very nice, but very tight forties dress, and with a couple of big events coming up, I'd like to look my best, so wanted something to pull the extra padding in.

I made my way to the underwear section, and after a bit of a search, found some 'corselettes'. Leaving hubby sitting on a chair outside - a big squashy comfortable one; they obviously understand about women shopping for clothes with their long suffering husbands - I took a couple of different sizes into the changing room to try on.

Now, I have a short body but quite long legs for my frame, and the corselettes were just too long. The bottom was hanging halfway down my thighs - the garment bottom not my bottom, I haven't put on that much weight - but if I pulled it up, I had all this excess fabric, which wrinkled up and held nothing in.
Back outside I found some high-waisted 'magic' knickers, which promised to hold me in, giving me a smooth silhouette and taking up to an inch off me. These will do nicely I thought, so into the changing room I went again. I pulled them on - they were like one of those tubigrip things that you use for constricting a sprain or something you've injured - whereby they came right up over my midriff, and then the top rolled down causing my flab to ooze out over the edge.

It reminded me of dough rising over the top of a loaf tin as it bakes. Not an attractive sight and not very comfortable. I took them off, got dressed once more and went back outside. This time I found some girdles, which felt much thicker and stronger. Aha, surely these will work. Oh they worked all right! After struggling to get one on, it certainly held my floppy bits in place, and it cut off the blood supply to my legs and waist too. The tops of my legs went white as they were deprived of blood, so heaven knows what would happen after wearing it all day long. I could understand why women often fainted whilst wearing corsets years ago.

Puffing and panting I struggled desperately to get the thing off again, and debated whether to try a different size. One look in the mirror at my red perspiring face told me the answer I needed.
I got dressed again, took the girdles back, and said to my patiently waiting husband, 'I think we'll have a nice piece of salmon and some new potatoes for dinner tonight, that's not very fattening is it? He opened his mouth to say something, then obviously thought better of it and instead asked if I wanted to go for a cup of coffee, without the cake!

The dress is black and flowery, so I'm sure nobody will notice my flabby bits. However, if you go to one of these events and see a blonde woman in a forties outfit with a weird smile on her face, you'll know it's me, trying to breathe and hold my stomach in at the same time.

Earlier columns.

Anyone for tea?

Decisions, decisions!

Keep your nose out!

 

home | help | contact | e-mail

Copyright www.Age-Net.co.uk 2000 - 2008