The Shape of Things to Come

When I started this project a month ago I didn’t really imagine that I would contribute to any meme other than Sinful Sunday, but when Molly posted this week’s Kink of the Week prompt it sparked a memory so connected to the essence of Exposing 40 that here I am.

In Stepping Out I mentioned the night out with my “soul sister” friends. There are a lot of nights out with these three women – actually they are more often nights in – but either way they are always hilarious, rejuvenating, and heavily seasoned with prosecco.

On this particular evening, about 18 months ago, one of them rocked up with her Rigby and Peller corset. On a previous night we’d all ended up prancing round her living room wearing her ludicrously high sex shoes, taking photos of our feet and giggling like teenagers. Actually, prancing is a lie. I think we wobbled on the spot. Ever since, she’d been promising to bring along her corset.

Fast forward a couple of hours, dinner is done, and I am being strapped in. Two of them embarked on this mission with gusto. The look on the host’s face as she walked into her living room to find me flanked by one friend who’d rolled up her sleeves and another who’d removed her top completely and was working in just her bra, such was the effort they were putting in, was priceless.

I loved feeling each tug as the laces were tightened and the giddy anticipation of wondering what I would look like. The photos of that night are not great ones – they are shot quickly on iPhone, many are grainy and out of focus. The corset clearly doesn’t fit me very well – I think it’s one thing to accentuate your chest and another altogether to have it exploding out in strange distorted creases. But I love these photos. I still look at them occasionally and smile at the memories of the evening.

Shortly after, unstrapped and breathing again, I sent a series of the photos to a guy I was chatting to but was yet to meet. “And this is my favourite,” I said, attaching the photo below to my last message. “Is that because you look fucking gorgeous?” came the quick response.

Fucking gorgeous.

I don’t think of myself as fucking gorgeous. That’s not me fishing for a compliment – when I set the bits of me I don’t like against the bits I do, on balance I am generally content with what I’ve got going on – it’s just ‘fucking gorgeous’ is a pretty bold statement.

But I did feel like that for half an hour wearing that corset: my boobs were up and my belly was under control in a way that, as this week’s Sinful Sunday shows, neither are naturally wont to do! I couldn’t believe this shape that had been created.

One day I will buy a corset of my own and create that shape all over again.