TORRINA ON CORSETS
published in John Willie's "BIZARRE"
Read about the spectecular training and lacing of Torrina!
Dear
Mr. Editor,
in
corsets I favor the short but very tightly
laced-in short
style, enough to cover and hold in my hips and support my bust well
above the corset, for I am not of the school that believes a woman’s glorious
bust should be squeezed into nasty unnatural
shaped brassieres, which are part of the corset itself,
I favor my soft kid brassieres above the corset. But more of the corset itself all
mine are of the softest kid like
my footwear, rather stiffly boned to a shape and
cut that I must force my body to accept and follow
when completely laced together. I said
together because I do not admire the easily laced
corset, which does not allow its fullest
shape and beauty to be kept.
Opposite
to lacing the long
style corset, a slow long gradual lacing-in
is not called for, the short lacing corset can be
very quickly drawn
in and closed, though I must admit I do at first
have to hold my breath from the extreme suddenness
of the tightening in.
Again I lie upon a perfectly flat
soft couch whilst either my maid or fiancé putts
me together. To the couch are attached two wide leather straps, which are buckled
across my thighs and upper waistline and pushed
tightly firm.
In this position my relaxed body has no
tendency to lift with the firm pulling which I must Alas! undergo during the
lacing. The feeling is odd at first, quickly my waist is squeezed in feeling as
though I should be cut in two halves, then after a few moments I feel my thighs
get a little numb at first, and these two sensations in some way that is always
odd to me, completely take away the sensation I have at the small nipped-in
waist. But oh, horrors, when those lacing-in hands return to that already small
waist I lose all sensations around my waist, as the laces now the more easily
drag my waist into its stupidly tiny dimensions. This process I describe happens
in three separate ordeals, before finally and almost unable to breathe, I am
just aware of that final waist fastening and the knots being secured and
knotted.
Before
I was properly trained for such tight lacing my fiancé used a contrivance made
of two inch deep brass strip which having been placed round the corset before it
was finally laced up, could
be screwed
tighter and
tighter round the actual loose corseted waist, thus pulling it in sufficiently
for the corsets to be more easily laced to that dimension, after which sometimes
the brass belt for lacing was finally removed, allowing me a queer sensation of
my body being suddenly left to itself to expand into the tightly laced in
corset. Though drawn into 22 or 21 inches believe me dears I hadn't much
expanding left to do.
All
my short severe corsets are back lacing with steel busks down their fronts about
two and a half inches wide. Fastened together, at the front bottom end of the
corset to take the strain, was a small leather strap and buckle to finally close
the lower ends of the corset.
At
first when I was being made accustomed to such severe corsets I fainted off once
or twice during lacing, but was quickly revived with smelling salts and made to
face up to my discomfort. Since those awful days of my training I have of course
become quite an inveterate tightlacer and would feel simply awful in anything
slacker, in fact I do often sleep reasonable tightly laced in special satin
sleeping corsets of black satin with nice frilly-laced tops and bottoms.
Over
all my outward dresses and attire I like to have the full effects of a corseted
figure shown off to advantage, and for that favor the well tightened leather
belt with one or more strong little buckles that can be easily diminished hole
by hole.
My
gloves hardly seem worthy of mention, being so comfortable in comparison with my
other favorite fashions that please my fiancé. All gloves that I wear must be
full length, or what is known as thirty button, sometimes twenty four button,
never lower, this doesn't mean actually buttoning, but that they reach the round
of the shoulders as you probably know already. My arms have of course to be
heavily powdered before easing these softest kid skins along the entire length
of the arms. Gradually from fingertips to wrists they are eased up and buttoned,
then slowly I have to ease up the rest of the long glove, inch at a time,
tightly over the shaped elbows and so on to the shoulders. I have gotten over
the usual complaint of shoulder high gloves being too ample. The last six inches
of my gloves are fashioned smaller and opened, with eight tiny neat lacing
eyelets, and are laced with the arms fully stretched out with fine silk laces.
These tighten the forearm of the glove, and have the advantage of biting into
the soft fleshy part of the upper arm, thus preventing any vestige of slipping
afterwards. I loathe seeing a woman's kid gloves slipping baggily around her
forearm.
In
one of your recent Magazines I saw a photo of many steel shackles or handcuffs,
which makes me relate to you that I have a pair of solid silver handcuffs with
detachable chains, and wear each handcuff separately locked to my small gloved
wrists, when I dine out at a fashionable restaurant. Wearing them, at a fancy
dress party some time ago in Milan my fiancé made me wear them with the little
connecting chains in place, making me feel terribly self conscious and slave
like with him as an escort.
Well,
Mr. Editor I hope this account of real life facts will not bore your readers who
like myself like wearing the bizarre fashions, for they have their proper place,
and that to my mind is in the company of the man who admires you the most and of
your choice, I married my fiancé some years ago now, and have never regretted
the rather severe training he enforced upon my rather unsophisticated girlhood
at that time, for we have of course now in marriage no quarrels and a complete
understanding together, and what is more I am sure he wouldn't look at another
woman, and if he did, well!
I should think I was slipping badly, and the modern Miss who is prepared
to undergo the training I underwent to attain what my husband calls
"Perfection" . . . Well!
I'll have to start all over again, I suppose.
But
believe me I have no worry, and my husband is well
contented with his wife
who can wear these days up to a seven inch heeled boot or shoe, and lace down to
eighteen inches over the rigid laced corset, and
if he did, believe me his shaven face will meet the softest of kid gloves
smartly cracking across it.
Yours
very sincerely,