For my wedding this past October, I wanted a corset. Something to tuck all my fat rolls in one spot. No unsightly bulges on the side of the dress. I also was of the mind that it was my day to try to feel sexy. My friend, Paula, altered my dress. She decided that she should go with me to help get the right fit. She knew how she wanted the dress to look and could offer opinions.
We went to the lingerie store in town. They do fittings and I get all my bras there. A sweet younger girl led us to a fitting room and stuff me into it. She was also a plus size gal, so I felt very comfortable. The fitter and Paula discussed what I needed for the dress. Paula insisted that a corset would be the way to go. However, they wanted to start with a bustier. The girl told me to take off my shirt and she would hook me up. I suggested that perhaps she should buy me a drink first if we were going to get that close. We tried the bustier on and it didn’t fit right.
They found a corset. Keep in mind, I have seen pictures of these contraptions, but never worn one. A corset doesn’t have cups like a bustier It was black with either: whale bones, steel girders, or 2′x4″‘s to hold everything up. Again, the girl was going to help fit me. At least her hands were warm, that was a good thing. She handed me the corset that had about 100 little eye hooks on the front. She told me that I should hook those up and then she would lace the back. Once I got closer to my bust, I should “scoop my breasts up towards the top of the corset.” Um, ya ok. I looked at all the hooks and sighed. I knew I would be there forever. I started from the bottom per instructions. When I got halfway up I couldn’t see the hooks anymore. My ta-ta’s were in my line of vision. Well, crapcicles! I had to peek around the curtain and explain to the fitter that I needed help! I told her that I was not trying to be fresh or get a free feel up. I just couldn’t do the hooks. She laughed and hooked me up. I hauled the girls up to under my chin and was ready for part two.
Next the fitter said to me, “Ok, I’m going to lace you up. It might help if you put your hands against the wall to brace yourself.” I thought, brace myself? What the hell? I did as she said and waited. Suddenly, she tugged up hard! She lifted me off my feet. I’m a big girl, so that is not an easy feat. I almost feel over before she was done. Then she told me that she really didn’t lace it up that tight, just enough to give me an effect. If that’s not tight, Lord help me! My boobs were so high I could barely see over them. Paula was thrilled. It was the effect the dress needed.
I was not aware, but it’s not an easy feat to sit down. Who knew? After I had the dress on, the fitter suggested I try to sit down in a chair. I thought this was a bit of overkill, until I tried to sit. I thought I would just flop my sexy self into the chair the way I normally do. Oh, that was a pipe dream. They told me to sit at the edge of the chair. I tried this again and almost fell backwards. While I was sitting I realized that I could use my chest as a plate, it was so high up, right under my chin. I was wondering how I would sit at the wedding? Perhaps I could just be propped up against a wall for dinner? That might work.
Finally, it was time to get me out of this torture device and breathe. The fitter came rushing back to the fitting room waving a little piece of cloth. She said, “Oh, I forgot to tell you. The corset comes with a free gift. An eye patch!” An eye patch? What? She then went on to explain that this tiny piece of material was a thong to go with the corset. Since she was a big girl herself, she called it an eye patch. Seriously, this thing was the size of a Barbie handkerchief dress. It wouldn’t cover much of anything it was supposed to cover. I was afraid that if I wore it, it might get lost somewhere. I ended up wearing it over my eye on the ride home. I couldn’t let an eye patch go to waste.