The corset, that icon of over-the-top femininity, is squeezing its way back into the wardrobes of women seeking a quick fix for a less-than-perfect figure. And not just as underwear. Body-conscious women are lacing up for formal occasions, to go out clubbing–even pairing up corsets with jeans for an expedition to the mall. Designers like Versace, Ungaro, Dolce & Gabbana and Ralph Lauren have seized on the trend, turning out corset dresses and tops in rich brocades, satin and lace. “Once a customer gets inside one,” says Steven Ho, an executive at Barneys, “she instantly has a very defined, very regal and very flattering shape.”
Achieving the new silhouette, though, comes at a price. Corsets, which can take up to 18 hours to make, range from $200 to $1,400. Lined with carbon-steel bones, they combine deft engineering with the unyielding pressure of a boa constrictor to haul in the waistline, flatten the stomach, straighten the spine and give even the leanest gamine the cleavage of the St. Pauli girl. “You can remove a full four inches from your waistline and a full dress size overall,” says designer Peter Soronen, whose corset tops sell for $800 and up at boutiques around the country. “You can go smaller, but we don’t recommend it. The point isn’t to look tiny, but graceful.”
The point isn’t necessarily to be comfortable either. Just getting laced up for the first time takes a full 30 minutes (Lamaze breathing helps). You’ll also need an extra set of hands “Gone With the Wind” style before your internal organs are sufficiently rearranged. Once on, the corset feels like a cross between a Wonderbra and a Kevlar vest. Eating a big meal is out of the question. So is deep yogic breathing. If you happen to be driving in one, you’ll have to sit on the edge of your seat. And if you drop the car keys, don’t panic. Just remember to bend from the knees.
Still, fans claim that a well-fitted corset top isn’t any more uncomfortable than a pair of stilettos–and some wear both. And owning one can provide a respite from the tyranny of rigid dieting and rigorous workouts. “Why spend hours in pursuit of a physical ideal that is, for most women, unobtainable?” says Mark Nevelow, whose company The Other Woman has designed garments for opera stars, S&M enthusiasts and, more recently, fashion divas. “Go out for the evening in a corset, look fabulous, then come home and have a doughnut.”
If you’re still unwilling to spend hundreds for a top that requires more truss-ing than a Thanksgiving turkey, be patient. The trend is trickling down. After Kmart had a surprise hit in December with a corset-printed T shirt (inspired by the movie “Moulin Rouge”), the chain decided to roll out a summer line of corset-inspired tops–with lace-up backs and rigid seams instead of thin steel rods. But the core audience is still probably women looking for an alternative to bruising lipo. Lane Bryant, which specializes in large sizes, now sells four kinds of corset tops with plastic boning to cinch and smooth, rather than constrict, the midsection. “Corsets can put curves where you want them, no matter what your shape,” says Catherine Lippincott, a Lane Bryant spokes-woman. Real women, it seems, want a waistline–at least once in a while.
