Saturday, July 20, 2013

Straitlaced Maybe - Tightlaced Never

I've spent a week going to enormous lengths to lose weight so as to avert criticism when we go to visit my family in England.

I've swum seven times, been to the gym four times, and been to three exercise classes.  Bodypump nearly killed me, but was far more to my liking than Zumba.  You won't catch me in another Zumba class!  Maybe it's my left-handedness.  Maybe I have a touch of dyspraxia - though I can drive a car, operate a sewing machine and play several musical instruments.  However, my handwriting is despicable, I am hopeless at ball-games, and it turns out I cannot watch a dance instructor and make my feet (forget the arms and hands!) do the same thing at the same time.  I just can't coordinate myself.

All but the swimming came screeching to a halt when I fell over my own feet diving for the phone on Thursday morning.  The doctor thinks I may have fractured my toe.  (See?  I'm uncoordinated!)  So although swimming doesn't hurt, I can't go and do 45 minutes on the treadmill, cross-trainer or rowing-machine, and I certainly can't take exercise classes until I get back from England.

So I shall have to present my overweight self for comment.  I do not have a tumour or a large cyst - Mother suggested that last year, and I've had all the blood-tests.  There's nothing wrong with me.  I'm just overweight.

SuperSpouse, trying to be helpful (he says), suggests I should "wear a corset" to "improve my figure".  I took the huff at this.  To me, corsets go with domination, inhibiting natural movement, and trying to turn a perfectly normal human body into a decorative Barbie-shape.  Why should I?  Why would I want to?  He asked his friend.  "Yes", said the friend, "Quite right.  Wearing a corset would improve your wife's figure." 


Unless you want to frighten yourself, don't look up "tight corsets" on Google.  And "Tightlacing" on Wikipedia is scary, too.  Don't scroll down.  Stop at the hideous travesty of a female image at the top of the article.  Truly, you don't want to read on.

I found an utterly enchanting black and pink butterfly-patterned corset by Googling images.  Thankfully, they  don't make it large enough.  (And believe me, I may be overweight, but in no sense am I clinically obese - nowhere near it.)  But I still don't fancy spending a week in a sweaty nylon corset, in temperatures of 30 degrees Celsius, trying very hard to look as though I haven't had three children.  

No thanks.  Back to starvation diets, I think.

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