The Victorian Corset: it hurts so GOOD!

Why is this woman trapped inside a corset? And why does she look so happy to be there?

In researching the fascinating, slightly kinky topic of the Victorian corset, I came across this amazing quote from one of my favorite actresses.

"Winona Ryder has credited her tight corsets with fueling her performance in The Age of Innocence by allowing her to channel her character's emotional turmoil. The actress insists her restrictive costume allowed her to give an authentic performance as a socialite engaged to a lawyer, played by Daniel Day-Lewis, in the 1993 period drama.

And despite feeling uncomfortable throughout the entire shoot, Ryder admits she is grateful for the painful garments. She tells Britain's Total Film magazine, "The corsets are a tremendous help to the performance, because you're playing a repressed person and you can feel the pain that they endured. My waist had to be 19 inches and they had to measure me every day. I would be on the floor and they would pull the strings until it was 19 inches."

"Daniel would wear his clothes home, he was very in character and I was like, 'You have no idea the pain I'm in right now!' But if I did it again I would want it the same way because it made my performance."

Ah yes, the corset: that curious object of female repression, ruthlessly squeezing a woman's body (no matter what size or shape) into a tiny hard cone, with bosoms thrust upwards and balanced on top like two ripe cantaloupes. In other words, corsets were as much for men as they were for women.

Or was it the other way around?

I adore Victorian costumery  - for that is how I see it, "dresses" being an inadequate term for the sumptuous, 50-pound confections that fit women's waists like a second (and imprisoning) skin. Even more than that, I love the ads, often full of whimsy like this almost unbelievable example for Ball's Corsets.

"Revolution in Corsets," it proclaims, depicting a squeezed-in Amazonian figure holding a sword and staff, her foot planted firmly on what is presumably that old-style thing that nobody wears any more. Meanwhile a herd of frightened women stampedes away in the distance. The Ball's Revolutionary Corset has triumped again!

And just look at the results. This is Miss Lettice Fairfax, and aside from the fact that she was named after a garden vegetable, I know nothing about her. Though frills at the shoulder and massive skirts provided an illusion of contrast, corsets took at least 3 inches off the natural waist, converting women's bodies into the perfect clothes-horse for gowns that must have been unbearably cumbersome and stifling to wear.

In fact, I have read that the ideal size for a woman's waist was the same measurement in inches as her neck.

Nothing is more revealing of attitudes towards corsets than these hokey, strangely beautiful ads.  They speak so clearly of those bizarre times, when a torturing undergarment passed without comment because it was so standard. No doubt no one really perceived the irony of a corset being called Harness. Not only that: this was an electric corset (electric items being a fad then, supposedly conveying some sort of tingly, healthful vitality to the patient), making one wonder if it didn't serve the same purpose as the modern vibrator.  Did it plug in? Did it have batteries? One wonders.

Some of my favorite shots display early celebrities such as a very young and girlish Ethel Barrymore (and these days, the hallowed name of Barrymore is only asociated with Drew, one of the most unattractive young women I've ever seen). In all her photos, her huge dark eyes look sad, her regal costumes displaying her like roast beef on a platter or a hugely oversized wedding bouquet.

Modern actresses probably dread wearing these things: they make the wasp-waisted gowns grip the torso like a very tight glove and provide a sort of crucial undergirding for the weight and volume of the skirt. But the little torture chambers can be surprisingly addictive. A British actress named Karin Cartlidge, starring in a TV version of The Cherry Orchard, told the London Times, "These bloody corsets do a lot for repression: I nearly fainted in one. I find them quite sexy; actually, it's a funny sort of thing. They hold you in like a cold iron hand round your heart, therefore all your emotions just seethe away underneath it. It's like being in a sort of prison and it's quite exciting, there's something erotic about it."

Indeed. I won't get into the sites that celebrate the corset as fetish-wear.  You know how to find them. Unless you're attending a Renaissance fair or working as a barmaid at Heidelberg Days, women don't endure these things any more except as fetish-wear. Most of these sites are extremely creepy. Some particularly slavish devotees "tightlace" day and night, though I don't know why anyone would do that to themselves.

Victorian porn could be very subtle. I wonder how many men found satisfaction (of a sort) in looking at these almost subliminally-erotic ads. Just thinking about what was under a woman's dress must have been completely unacceptable, which is probably why naughty French post cards were so popular. But did the proper Victorian woman somehow identify with the daring sauciness of the Valeine ad, or the soft-focus intimacy of the Royal Worcester?

Helena Bonham-Carter is still the ruling queen of the period costume. In A Room with a View, she smolders. With her masses of chestnut hair piled precariously on top of  her head like those water-jugs in the Middle East and her waist reduced to a thread, she swishes around in these dresses as if to the manor born. It must be tiring to pull a wagonload of suffocatingly heavy drapery around with you all day, but somehow she manages it.

And when she lets her masses of hair down, even in a granny-flanny, she still smolders.

Women had to do everything imprisoned in these things, even ride horses (and sidesaddle! It was somehow considered obscene for women to straddle anything, which makes one wonder about those Victorian families with ten or twelve children.) There were maternity corsets then which must have been agony to wear, and corsets for little girls, just to get them good and used to being squeezed until you couldn't properly breathe. Past the age of ten, normal respiration was left behind with all the other trappings of girlhood.

But over and over again, in researching this strange artifact from a very strange time, I found comments from actresses who had endured wearing these things, then had somehow fallen in love with them.

Emma Williams, star of the British series Bleak House, claims, "You get quite strict about your corset - it's like, 'Come on, tighter, tighter.' I had this gorgeous dress for a wedding scene, but it was ridiculously small. I nearly fainted, my corset was so tight. I wore it for eight hours, breathing really slowly so I wouldn't fall over. I'm sure I cracked a rib that day. . .  I had original Victorian corsets, so they were really heavy. I spent half the day crouching down to take the weight off my back. But you do get addicted to them. I might start wearing one round the house, doing the cleaning in rubber gloves and a corset. I'm a classy girl, me."

CODA: I just found these two incredible corset ads while looking for something else. They reflect two common features, or perhaps obsessions, of Victorian corset advertising: little scantily-dressed cherubs fluttering around and acting strangely, and "health corsets" that were no doubt meant to counter the anti-tightlacing "dress reform" movement of the late 19th century. Though corsets were probably about as healthy as tanning beds, they were pitched just as effectively. The ads often included doctors' endorsements (shades of Lucky Strike!), as if that settled the whole thing.

I have no idea what sort of voyeurism is being practised in this ad. I guess the fact that they're photographing the corset, not the woman in it, lets them get away with this overwhelmingly fetish-y shot. (And why is the corset being used as a planter?) This ad is for Warner Bros. Coraline: not, presumably, the movie studio, which didn't exist then - though I think we still see Warners undergarments of a different sort. Bras and things. Next time you think your bra is digging into you and it's torture, think on this and repent.

Ball's advertisements are without a doubt the best. This one boasts a "coiled wire spring elastic section", which today sounds like medieval torture but which then promised increased comfort and flexibility (i.e. you could take at least half a full breath). The caption reads, "Cupid whispers 'Ball's corsets are the best, wear none other.' And so say the medical fraternity."

 

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Victorian porn: The Saga of Abbie

The Saga of Abbie Who Is Happy And Well
And Corsetted To The Limit

(Blogger's note. I did NOT write this. I don't even know where it came from, so I must presume it's written by that ill-regarded writer, Arthur Unknown. It goes on for 101 verses. . . so hold on. . . )

1 In my hourglass corset I'm laced every day,

My little wasp waist is shrinking away.

The stays squeeze me inwards so small and so nice,

In a pattern of lacing that grips like a vice.

2 When I was a child I could never understand

Why the shape of my mother was stately and grand,

But early one morning I once chanced to see

How Dad laced her corsets as tight as could be.

3 Dad said to Mama, "You're not tightened yet",

And he pulled till his forehead was glistening with sweat,

While Mother said gaspingly, "Close them you must",

While breathing so fast in her trembling bust.

4 At last Dad succeeded, the laces were tied,

And Ma was so slender, I ran to her side,

My eyes big with wonder, my mouth wide agape

As I longingly gazed at her beautiful shape.

5 "O, Mother, O Mother", I gasped out of plea,

"O when can I have a wasp waist for me?

A real lady's corset, all lace-trimmed and blue.

I so want to be beautiful, just like you".

6 Mother smiled as she held smelling salts to her nose,

Then she said "Ask your Daddy", and pulled on her hose,

But Daddy demurred, "We need more time to think",

But Mum whispered, "Let her", and tipped him a wink.

7 That night Mother said as we sat round the fire,

"Is a nice waspy waist what you really desire?"

"O yes, Mummy, yes. Do let it be soon".

But suddenly Mummy fell down in a swoon.

8 Up jumped my Daddy and went to the drawer

And took out the scissors (I'm sure that he swore)

To cut Mummy's laces. She feebly gasped,

"No, don't cut the lace", as her waistline she clasped.

9 It did not take long for my Mum to recover,

While Dad fussed around like an overwrought lover.

He said, "Listen, Abbie, now I'm warning you

That's what tight-lacing will usually do".

10 I replied, "So I faint, but I truly don't care,

I want a wasp waist like my Mummy, so there.

O, please Mummy do try dear Dad to persuade,

To let me be corsetted. Please get one made".

11 Daddy hummed and he hawd, "So that's what you say,

You're just like your Mother; she gets her own way.

If that is the garment you're dying to wear,

Tomorrow we'll go to the corsetière".

12 My anticipation was loaded with bliss,

I rewarded them both with a hug and a kiss.

That night in my bed as in slumber I curled,

I dreamt I'd the tiniest waist in the world.

13 We went the next day to the corsetières.

And inside the shop she displayed all her wares.

So graceful the shapes of the corsets and stays,

I stood there enchanted, my eyes all a-glaze.

14 She measured me up, she measured me down,

She looked through her pince-nez, her brow in a frown.

"A wasp waisted corset? We have just the thing

To make you a lady with a waist like a ring".

15 They took me upstairs, I was in such haste,

The corset was clasped round my tender young waist.

"Now come to the mirror and see with your eyes

Your waist whittled down to its tiniest size".

16 I looked in the mirror, my heart was so full,

And then on the laces I started to pull.

I wanted the tightness, so comfy to savour;

My parents had done me the loveliest favour.

17 "Do you think you can manage to lace in yourself?"

Asked Mother. In answer I grinned like an elf.

"I love the sensation", I tugged hard with zest

Till my arms ached again and I took a short rest.

18 "How do you feel?" asked the corsetière,

"It's a lovely sensation", I had to declare.

"I want to be smaller, with bosom up thrust,

And the smaller the waist the larger the bust".

19 Then mother said, "Let me start pulling you in".

"Your arms are not strong enough for you to win".

So taking the laces she started to tug;

Oh, the sheer joy of that beautiful hug.

20 "Please pull. O please pull my little waist in,

I want to be tiny, delightfully thin".

I felt the desire to endure like a saint,

But I fell to the floor in a rapturous faint.

21 I opened my eyes, and I smiled with delight.

There, I'd had my first faint in my corset so tight.

I rose to my feet and I asked, "Where's my corset?"

Mother said, "It is here, but this time don't force it".

22 "Please Mummy replace it and wrap it round me,

A wasp-waisted lady I'm dying to be.

I'm no longer a child, I'm a woman, so there,

And when I get home please put up my hair".

23 Once more in my corset, the corsetière

Pulled slowly the laces with consummate care.

"I'll not close the corset this time", she averred,

"We don't want a faint like the last", she observed.

24 Gently she pulled the laces along,

My waist became small in the corset so strong.

The stays, readjusted less tight than before,

Were fastened, but open an inch or more.

25 Across at the mirror I gazed with awe;

I stared, and could hardly believe what I saw.

My waist was a stem, a beautiful figure,

My chest looked and felt extended and bigger.

26 I saw my breast heave I was breathing so fast,

But I had an hour-glass waistline at last;

And later as Mum and I walked down the street,

We were conscious of pride in our figures so neat.

27 Then back at home the day was to face,

With a corset so tight that I could not unlace.

At lunchtime I ate up as much as the rest,

And felt that my dinner was stuck in my chest.

28 "Don't worry", said Mum at the end of the meal,

"It's only a transient discomfort you feel;

It will all pass with patience and rest,

And in time you will tackle your eating with zest".

29 I patiently got trough the rest of the day;

My corsets felt tighter, but I felt so gay,

And upwards and downwards I savoured the touch

Of the tapering body I wanted so much.

30 My waist is reduced to an eighteen inch span,

A sight for the eyes of susceptible Man.

Be it never so tight I'll endure the squeeze,

For a lady must ever appear at her ease.

31 One lovely night I went out to a dance.

My favourite swain I sought to entrance.

A corset that measured half an inch less

I wore with patience under my dress.

32 Then David my boy-friend said, as he went past,

"Our Abbie's a grown up young lady at last",

And in the first dance, he held my hand tight,

And asked "How many dances can you spare tonight?"

33 In no time at all my dance card was filled.

This night was my night, and how I was thrilled;

And as we whirled round in the gaslight so shady

I was no more a child but a regular lady.

34 My little wasp waist felt as solid as wood,

I bravely endured it as much as I could.

The joy and excitement helped me to forget it,

A wasp waist is mine, I'll never regret it.

35 And as we went round in a lighthearted whirl,

David said softly, "You beautiful Girl".

I gently responded without any haste

And daringly guided his hand round my waist.

36 And then on the lawn outside the dance floor

He placed his two hands round my waistline once more.

We kissed and we kissed, and he held me so tight,

I very near fainted with tightness that night.

37 My next tiny corset reduced by an inch

To sixteen and a half, a regular pinch.

I'm wearing the corset, awake or asleep,

My hour-glass stem I'm determined to keep.

38 Now that I'm tight in my corsets all day,

I sometimes feel consciousness fading away.

The pain and discomfort deny me my peace,

But nothing will urge me my stays to release.

39 It's my firm intention with might and main

A sixteen inch corset my size to attain.

Said Mum, "It will cost you devotion and tears

If you want a waist measure the same as your years".

40 The new corset came and was opened in haste,

A garment in elegant beauty and taste.

A sixteen inch corset with lace white and blue

To make my desire to be smaller come true.

41 "Please, Mummy, come help me the corset to try".

"You'd better ask Daddy, he's stronger than I".

So up in the bedroom, the corset was placed

Around my slim body prepared to be laced.

42 As Daddy pulled only gently at first

I felt that my up swelling bosom would burst.

The tightening in was an exquisite thrill

As I put all my trust in his strength and my will.

43 Daddy tugged on the lace until he perspired,

And the corset was closed as I had desired.

Across to the mirror I tottered to see

My new shape reflected; oh could that be me?

44 Hips flared into curves so majestic and sweet,

My chest was so large I could not see my feet.

My waist was a sensuous curve of blue,

A tight little thread that united the two.

45 As I went to the door, I knew I was pale,

But I entered the room like a ship in full sail,

My chest, as I walked swayed from side to side

And Mummy and Daddy surveyed me with pride.

46 That night in my bed, so determined was I

To sleep in my corset I wanted to try;

But try as I might, I started to weep,

For the merciless corset would not let me sleep.

47 By midnight I just couldn't stand any more,

And I tiptoed downstairs past Mum's and Dad's door,

And there on the sideboard, because it was handy,

I took a large drop of Napoleon brandy.

48 The tot was so strong, so I staggered to bed,

I fell on the mattress and lay down my head;

But sleep was denied and just would not come,

And by four in the morning my tummy was numb.

49 To breakfast I went all tired and teary,

My wasp waist had left me weepy and weary.

Said Mother, "In time you'll not feel the pinch.

Come up and I'll let it out just half an inch".

50 The pain and discomfort transcended belief,

I was grateful to Mum for providing relief.

But I was resolved that come what may,

My stays would be closed by the end of the day.

51 To hold and keep your waist small and indented

Expansion by night must be firmly prevented.

Your corsets by night will your figure be moulding,

A seductive wasp waist is an asset worth holding.

52 When I took off my stays a new pleasure I found,

Without their support I tottered around;

My uncorsetted waist was fragile and frail,

My top half would give way like a tree in a gale.

53 On opposite walls two mirrors I've placed,

So I can admire the back of my waist.

Minus my stays, of support I'm bereft,

And in rapturous pleasure I sway right and left.

54 I see in my mirror my outstanding chest,

While my heart is a-fluttering inside my breast.

A sigh of content comes up to my lips

As my burgeoning breast overhangs my hips.

55 My sixteen inch waist I now carry with ease,

My waist has adapted itself to the squeeze.

I thought I was down to my limit in size,

But the Man of My Heart thought otherwise.

56 Now Raymond my husband you must understand

Loves to caress my waist with his hand.

He said, "Now your waist is down to this size,

A waist like your neck would bedazzle my eyes".

57 'Twas the voice of the charmer, and I as his wife

Will go to extreme for the man in my life.

To be much smaller my waist must be pressed;

I'll make him so happy, I'll give of my best.

58 A corset of half an inch smaller was brought,

A body of fifteen and a half inches taut.

That evening my husband requested to lace,

And into his hands the new corset I place.

59 "Just let me relax for a moment", I said,

You can lace me in tight as I lay on the bed".

My spouse took the laces all set to begin,

And slowly but firmly he pulled my waist in.

60 He tugged at the cords till I asked him to rest,

To close the new corset would be a big test.

With only one inch left apart to defeat,

I arose with his help, and I swayed on my feet.

61 I found if I went on my hands and my knees

He could pull in my waist with more expertise;

The flesh fell away and my body felt lightened

As Raymond pulled hard and the corset was tightened.

62 He pulled and he tugged till the corset's constraint

Became far too much, and I felt a fresh faint.

With Raymond I desired no quarrel or friction,

But my waist was protesting against its restriction.

63 A last final heave and Raymond was able

To tie up the laces as taut as a cable.

He tenderly helped me to stand on my feet,

As he clasped me around his fingers could meet.

64 I hugged him and kissed him in mounting passion

My slenderness made me exult in my fashion.

Connubial bliss we have found every time,

Is enhanced by a corset, and truly sublime.

65 "I'll never remove my corset", I said,

"Until it has moulded my waist to a thread;

It shall squeeze me and train me, that's my resolution,

I'll take it off only for regular ablution".

66 Raymond's delight and encouragement worked.

From lacing my corsets my man never shirked;

And several weeks later without any haste

Another proud inch was removed from my waist.

67 At fourteen and a half my waist was my pride,

The pain and discomfort I took in my stride.

Though I sometimes have fainted because of the pinch

I'll not ease the lacing, not even an inch.

68 My hips and my bust were a sight to be seen,

My waist was a tiny tight tube in between;

Whenever I ventured alone in the street

I felt pride in the sound of following feet.

69 My husband, enraptured, was bursting with pride

At the way people stared when we walked side by side,

And often young ladies bedizened in style,

Asked, "How do you stand it and still keep a smile?"

70 If Ray wanted something, he put on the charm;

His speech became like silver while stroking my arm,

He murmured such love, so caressing his voice,

"Please, please lace in smaller", he gave me no choice.

71 I tried to demur, even put up defiance,

My smooth-tongued charmer induced my compliance.

I had to admit as he gave me a hug,

Tight-lacing had captured me, just like a drug.

72 He gave me the corset so tiny to don,

A fourteen inch body, Could I get it on?

As he pulled came Desire, to be smaller yet.

I will be fourteen inches without a regret.

73 The corset went in with a pitiless grip,

I said, "Hold the laces, don't let them slip".

Ray answered, "I'll close it by hook or by crook.

Ah, I've done it. Now go to the mirror and look".

74 "Hold me up. Raymond, darling, my knees feel so weak",

He did so, I leaned with my head to his cheek.

My waist was compressed in its captive confinement

In superlative style and rounded refinement.

75 My mirror I love, for to see myself there

With a waist like a wasp is an ecstasy rare.

There I can admire my middle so frail,

My breathing so rapid, my features so pale.

76 He held me so tight as he stood by my side,

He knew that my knees were about to subside.

My small strangled waist could be crushed in no more,

I felt my knees give and I sank to the floor.

77 A few moments later I roused with a sneeze,

For Ray had pushed my head down to my knees.

His murmuring words were of love and of praise,

But all I could say was, "Don't loosen my stays".

78 "Are you sure you can stand it", asked he.

I answered, "That only depends upon me.

I am quite determined the tightness to bear,

And I'll sleep trough the night in my corset, I swear".

79 I slowly awoke as the dawn came to creep,

And below my wasp waist my hips were asleep.

As Ray pressed my tummy with finger and thumb,

I had lost all feeling, my muscles were numb.

80 There are many sensations tight-lacing bestows,

There's a feeling of weakness from hips down to toes.

When walking your chest sways from side to side

And your waist gives way weakly if you take a big stride.

81 These lovely sensations when felt in good measure

Will give the tight-lacer a world full of pleasure.

All men will admire your delicate sway,

The envy of women will make you feel gay.

82 In spite of the pain and discomfort I felt,

I wished that my flesh could be ordered to melt.

Now Raymond has said that he'd love me to wear,

A thirteen inch corset like Madame Polaire.

83 He showed me Polaire in a corset of lace,

With an hour-glass form of perfection and grace.

"That's only a picture, it may be quite true,

But I'll have a REAL thirteen inch waist for you".

84 I wanted so much my wasp waist to maintain,

But could I endure being smaller again.

The drug of desire to be tinier still,

Has conquered my body and strengthened my will.

85 The promise of gaining a torso so trim,

To be really admired in my figure so slim

Was almost too much, I chafed at delay;

But the thirteen inch corset arrived the next day.

86 The corset was lovely, I just had to smile,

I held the stay up to admire it awhile.

"Don't let us hurry", I ventured to say,

"Enjoyment is better for a little delay".

87 Though Ray was impatient, "All right", he agreed,

"To see you laced in is a pleasure indeed.

Whilst I don't mind a little suspense,

My desire for your lovely wasp waist is intense".

88 With arms around each other we stood tightly clasped,

I could feel my heart thumping; "Please lace me", I gasped,

With a movement of joy and in trembling haste

He fitted the corset around my waist.

89 "Please place it on loosely at first", I began,

"My shape in the mirror I'd like to scan,

My fifty four inches of bust to admire,

I think my new corset can lift it up higher".

90 "I'm waiting no longer", at last he declared,

"I'm lacing you in, or will you be scared?"

I smiled at him fondly and said, "Let's begin",

And in tense excitement he was lacing me in.

91 He pulled on the laces quite gently at first,

Then tighter, still tighter, I was ready to burst.

The hold of the corset was gripping at length

As firmly he pulled with all his strength.

92 My waist in its corset was much tighter now,

I wanted it closed no matter how.

My tight little waist was protesting amain

As Raymond continued to tug once again.

93 "Don't stop, please go on," Ray responded with vigour,

While I held my breath and endured the rigor.

As Ray on the laces his finger did press,

I heard him ejaculate one word, "Success".

94 The corset was closed, I was smaller still,

My thirteen inch waist was martyring thrill.

Swaying I went to the mirror to see

My waist microscopic; oh could that be me?

95 I clasped my hands round it as tight as I could,

My waist felt as hard as a column of wood.

My fingers and thumbs almost touched front and back.

How fragile it looked, but I felt on the rack.

96 I walked up and down with unsteady stride,

Ray holding my arm as he paced by my side

My waist was protesting, I swayed like a tree,

Enjoying the weakness that came over me.

97 Ray gave me some brandy, I took it in sips.

I rested my hands of the shelf of my hips.

The cone of my bust emerged like a flower,

I could gaze at my figure for hour after hour.

98 My thirteen inch waist by now is the norm,

My waist has surrendered, I keep it in form.

My body's resistance to corsets has gone.

No more do I tight-lace, I put corsets on.

99 The envy of women, the praise from the men

Would urge me to tight-lace all over again.

So if you desire to be praised for your taste,

Wear an unyielding corset and sport a WASP WAIST.

100 My upper part sways with each step as I stride,

My burgeoning bosom I carry with pride.

The ground I can only see eight feet ahead

In my six-inch heel shoes as I daintily tread.

101 The span of my waist is a minuscule measure,

A wee link my husband adores like a treasure.

I love my wasp waist, I'm the happiest wife,

With a waist like a stem I will wear all my life.

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