I have never been well endowed. Neither has my sister. If she actually has boobs, I know she’s pregnant.  I guess we just fell on the small end of the gene pool.

Many romances, especially those in the Regency and historical categories, are set in a time when women were expected to wear corsets. Those stories often exhibit the heroine’s heaving bosoms. I always thought that was kind of cheesy.

Well, last weekend I got to have heaving bosoms of my own.

I accomplished such a feat when I dressed up for the Renaissance Festival. Now, I didn’t have heaving bosoms when I started the day. I had dressed myself, tying my corset at what I thought was an appropriate tightness. At that point, I was pleasantly surprised to at least have a bust. My husband enjoyed the view.

Early on at the fair, I saw a fun piece of clothing that I couldn’t resist trying on. It was a cross between a cape and a corset made out of black leather and lined with red satin. The main body was your standard black leather corset. But there was much more. The leather came up over the shoulders, flared out into cap sleeves, and rose up into a hood. The hood could be pulled up to obscure the wearer’s face, or left lying back, exposing the red satin lining. Below the main corset, the leather extended out over the hips and ended in points on the side of each knee. It was the type of outfit you would imagine in Little Red Riding Hood, the dark twisted version.

It called to me. I picked a black leather cape off the rack, and began to put it on over what I was wearing. A store worker offered to lace up the black leather corset for me. I demurred, saying that lacing up my own corset afterward would be too much work. He offered to do that for me, too.

I succumbed to temptation and let the worker do his magic. He was certainly experienced. His fingers finished in one minute what took me five. The black leather cape looked damn good on me. There is a reason women wore corsets for ages. I felt like I needed a sword and some shadows to slink around in.

After enjoying my dark fantasy, I let the worker assist me in putting my own corset back on. As with the previous lacing, I held my breath while he worked. He pulled continuously tighter, much tighter than I ever had. When he was done, I took a moment to rearrange myself for maximum effect.

Voila! I had heaving bosoms.

True, they were only heaving because I had absolutely no room in which to breathe. My ribcage had to expand somewhere. There is a reason women do not wear corsets any more.

What do you think of corsets? Have you ever worn one? Share in the comments below.

*Photo credit: Jessica Hagens (Creative Commons)