Wednesday, June 04, 2014

What size am I, really?

Last year it happened like this. I went to Marvelous Mayhem Corsets set on not buying anything. I saw a purple-and-black corset. I had a bit of a swoon moment. I talked to the guy, who asked if I knew my corset size. I told him I’m a 38. He measured me anyway. And confirmed that I was a 38.

The corset I lusted over was a 34.

“Want to try it on anyway?” he asked.

“Sure, what the hell.”

He tied it on me and I just gave him all my money. That was that. The corset did not come off me until after dinner. It was most awesome, so I promised myself I would get a different one at the next IML. Something not patterned and perhaps more subtle.



I stood in front of the corsets.

“Do you know your size?” asked most helpful shopkeeper.

I explained what we had learned last year, and so he reached for a muted red in a 38 and we tied it on.

“Whoa, you are NOT a 38.”


“Do you feel that?”

“Yes, it needs to be tighter.”

“I put it on you and it tied right down to there. There is no tighter.”

He was right. I was swimming in this particular corset, which sort of defeated the purpose of having a corset at all.

“All right, I guess let’s try a 36. Maybe with purple? I’m not feeling this color, or it may be that it’s just too big.”

We tried the 36 in purple.

“Huh.” he said.


“I don’t know, I think you might be a 34.”

“Is that as tight as it gets?”

“It’s pretty much almost closed.”


We talked about it and decided on the 34. It was around this time that the Bard found me, and roughly at the same time I was presented with a bright, bright, flashing red-and-black corset in a 34.

“Oh yeah!”

I unsnapped the busk on the corset I was currently tied into.

“She did not just do that,” he looked at the Bard. “Tell me she did not just do that. You should not have been able to do that. Yeah, that is definitely not the right size.”

So he tied me into the 34.

“Yep, that is the take-my-money button.” And he did.

“You know, it matches your bracelet and your devil horns,” said the Bard. And she was right. I’d managed to get a flashy red corset that was absolutely not subtle. I was surprisingly okay with that.

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