This Is Why I Can’t Have Nice Things- The Corset Story

I went to a beer tasting last night at the Home brewers association meeting, and I got to meet a lot of really nice people.  I’ve FINALLY experienced southern hospitality.

While there, I was talking to a couple of girls who were around my age and just a hoot, and as I progressively got drunker, they were talking about awkward situations, and since I have this horrible habit of one upping people, I tell them my corset story.

This is a two part story, and this results in an obscenely long post.  Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

First, how I got this awesome corset.

After I had lost around 30 pounds via Weight Watchers, I decided to reward myself by ensuring that I lost my weight in an attractive manner, primarily in my middle section, so I’d have an absolutely awesome hourglass figure.  When I was in high school, I wore a medium duty corset that ensured I filled out to my desired specifications, and I decided that this time around, I wasn’t going to mess around.

I shopped around online for a while and found this absolutely beautiful waist training corset .  I found it while Alex was in the room, and I have this terrible habit if having conversations with myself, and I honestly thought I told him about buying this thing, so this is how I remember it.

Me: Honey?  Would you mind if I got this TOTALLY BADASS waist training corset?

Alex: How much?

Me: Around $200.

Alex:… Only if you wear it while cleaning the house.


Seriously, how can you say no to this?

Seriously, how can you say no to this?

So I ordered it.  I got an email from the lady who sold it, letting me know that for a little extra, I could have it custom tailored to fit my exact measurements  This made me super ecstatic, so I was like YES! YES YES YES! A THOUSAND TIMES YES!  So I sent her my very awkward measurements, and three weeks later my corset arrives in the mail.

When Alex is home and I am at work.

When I get home from work, the package is on the table and he’s standing there with his arms crossed.

Alex: What the hell is that package?

Me: It’s the corset I ordered.

Alex: What corset?

Me: You know that corset I ordered a few weeks ago.  I told you about it.

Alex: No, I would have remembered.  How much did it cost?

Me: Uh… well its custom made!

Alex: How much?

Me: It’s going to support my back and make me look super shapely!

Alex: How much?!



Me: Around $200.


So for the rest of the week, I was his slave in order to justify the corset.  Totally worth it.

The people I was telling this story to were dying from laughing, then Alex cuts in and says “Oh, tell the about the time you wore it to a buffet.”

This is part two, and evidence that either my mom is an a-hole, or she has a very sick sense of humor.  I’m going with both.

When we were visiting Minnesota that particular winter, I was planning on going to a drag show at a known gay bar in St Paul, and I thought to myself, “Who would appreciate a corset more than a bunch of queens? Nobody, that’s who.”

So the four days before going to this bar, I was wearing it around the house at my mom’s house to break it in.  You see, when you have a corset, you have to break it in over the course of two weeks so you don’t have problems breathing.  It’s very stiff when you first get it, and by wearing it a few hours a day over the course of two weeks, the metal boning in it molds to your body so it goes from painful to extremely comfortable and helps support your back, causes you to not eat because it sucks in your stomach, etc., so I was wearing it very loosely at my moms.

One particular night, mom said we were going out to eat, which I saw as an opportunity to test out eating.  I was wearing this corset while getting ready, and my mom, who I’m pretty sure has more muscles than The Rock, sees me wearing this.

This guy seriously has no body strength compared to my mom

This guy seriously has no body strength compared to my mom

“Leah, are you honestly going to wear this?” She asks me, and I’m pretty sure she was plotting something.

“Yeah, I need to break it in.”

“Well come here, it’s way too loose,” she says, and while I’m about to protest, she pulls it so tight that she sucked me in over eight inches.

I couldn’t actually breathe.  I had a very breathy voice the entire night.   Also, since it’s a long line corset that goes to the top of my hips, I had to walk without moving my hips.  That is EXTREMELY DIFFICULT.

So she takes us out to dinner.

To an effing buffet.

In order to get to this plethora of food, I had to get in the car.  Since I couldn’t move my hips, I couldn’t sit down, so they laid me down in the back seat.  The entire drive, while my step dad was driving, my mom would look in the back seat and start laughing.

We get to the restaurant, and I seriously considered throwing stuff at my mom.  We sit down, and if you are unaware, corsets push your boobs up.  So my boobs were basically in my face.  Literally, I could rest my face in my boobs from how far this damn thing pushed them up.

So I’m sitting at the table, my face resting in my boobs, hardly able to breathe, trying to eat a freakin’ slice of pizza.

My mother was dying.  Alex couldn’t figure out why she was laughing so hard.  He thought the entire thing was getting old.  Finally he asks her why she’s about to hemorrhage something from laughing so hard, and her response, between gasps, set the mood for the evening.

“She… wore… that thing… to a buffet…”

Alex nearly fell on the floor from laughing so hard.  So did my step dad.  Step sister arrived shortly after and was laughing pretty hard too.

I ended up not wearing that corset to the bar because I feared that my mom would lace me in again.

I’ve only worn it a handful of times since, once outside the house, for a Halloween party.

Malice in Wonderland--- Awesome, yes?

Malice in Wonderland— Awesome, yes?

Of course, I made sure it was laced very loosely to ensure breath-ability.

Things My Mom Was Right About: Carrying A Purse

Now, for most of you women out there, you’re probably thinking, “This girl must be an idiot for never carrying a purse unless her mom said so,” and I would be inclined to believe you, except I had very particular reasons.

I. Hate. Purses.

I am not a girly girl by any means.  I actively avoid make up.  I can’t style my hair to save my life.  Hell, five months ago I bought my first hair straightener and I still have no idea how to use it.  My hair is still frizzy after using it.  My mom still does a lot of my clothes shopping.  I own four pairs of shoes.

I’m going to a wedding in about two months and I think I’m going to have to ask my friend to take me shoe shopping since I do not own a pair of heels.  I only have steel toe shoes.  And tennis shoes.

So I hate carrying a purse, but it is a necessary evil.

When I was but a wee young girl, in high school, I had my wallet which had my debit card, my drivers license, my school ID, and any various money I would possibly have, I would put that in my pocket.  As well as my cell phone, which was a Katana II.

You know.. Before Smartphones were cool?

You know.. Before Smartphones were cool?


AND THEN I would have my keys.  In my pocket.  As well as my chap stick.  Now I did this because I really hated carrying a purse.

My mother is the polar opposite of this.

Here is a list of things she has in her purse.

  1. Wallet
  2. Keys
  3. Checkbook
  4. Manicure set
  5. Comb
  6. Bottle of ibuprofen
  7. Mirror
  8. Rosary
  9. Six different pens with different color ink
  10. Miscellaneous coins
  11. Deeds to a small country
  12. Leprechauns
  13. Tiny civilizations
  14. Chapstick


No lie, she has all of those things in her purse.*

She told me that I needed to start carrying a purse since my wallet was constantly falling out of my pockets and it was causing us to go back to restaurants to get my wallet.  She was convinced that someone was going to steal my debit card and steal my identity.

Funny how when I was in college someone stole my debit card and spent over $100 on gas.

And how one time when my wallet dropped out of my pocket all of the cash was stolen.

And how when I got a purse I can carry candy into a movie theatre.

Yep. Mom was right.

Carrying a purse is a good idea.

I don’t forget stuff nearly as often.

Thanks mom.

Is there anything that your mom was right about that you were like PFFT! No way mom!  I want to hear about it!  What was YOUR mom right about?

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*Okay, she doesn’t have all of those things in her purse.  Obviously she has no room for chapstick when there are leprechauns in her purse.