Get with the new underground movement: the G-string is dead, long live body shaper bloomers and corsets. How shameful you mutter, to resurrect these relics from the boondocks of the undies drawer.
But the timing couldn't be better. The new season's figure-hugging fashions have put the squeeze on the G; pencil skirts demand a firmer presence down under. Sure, we appreciate the G's appeal, particularly in times of darkened bedroom encounters, but you have to admit that in the cold light of boardroom presentations it cuts a bad line.
The new streamline fashions have set a challenge. I find myself in Libertas Pacific's central Auckland store, where owner Valeria Burrows hovers over me as I squeeze myself into a selection of support under fashions.
I'm instantly attracted by the Cette range of "magic knickers" recommend by What Not to Wear's Trinny and Susannah. The multiple grades of weave hold curves instead of spreading them around. It even promises to stop cellulite showing through pale, flimsy fabrics. Burrows throws in the clincher: "You'll drop a dress size and look like a rock from behind." Anyone who's seen my ample derriere would know that would be a miracle.
If you are the type to panic in a lift, you'll get some feeling of what it's like to wedge your way into a foundation garment. Burrows gives strict instructions to carefully roll it over each thigh, inching slowly towards the crotch. I adopt the moves of a Sumo wrestler, grunting at each hoist of the super-stretch fabric. Just as I lower into Crouching Tiger pose for the final heave, Burrows bursts in. It's not worth hiding your shame.
"Oh, you're doing fine. If you'd got them on within 30 seconds, I'd be worried. It has to be a struggle or otherwise I recommend dropping a size."
I look like I'm clad in a giant Bandaid - the panty stretches from above my knee to just under the bra line. I waddle over to try on my trousers. Preposterous garment it may be, but it's snapped me into a shape the G-string could never manage.
Can a corset be just as effective?
The way Katie McGettigan darts around her workroom you'd pick her for a ballet girl. Petite, pretty and a ramrod-straight back. She has a natty way of swishing her skirt.
"Oh no, I've never been on the stage," laughs McGettigan, her neck arching gracefully. "It's the corset, it gives you a certain poise."
The corset is back in favour. The revival was confirmed after sightings on Hollywood's red carpet and fashion runways. Long after we've liberated ourselves from bustles, we can't seem to resist the urge to be laced-up good and proper.
The corset became acceptable outer wear when Madonna paraded her jutting conical outfit on tour in 1990. Our latest predilection with the burlesque has seen Dita von Teese squeeze tight for Playboy and Kylie Minogue fasten on a bejewelled corset for her Showgirl tour. Both pint-size performers claimed a 40cm (16 inch) waist, although Minogue confessed it was "a bit of an exaggeration" after speculation in the British tabloids.
At the Costume Studio on Auckland's North Shore, McGettigan is pinning a tulle to a dressmaker's dummy. She trained at London's Royal Opera House and her customised corsetry is in demand.
About half wear it as a fashion statement, and the rest wear it to enhance a garment.
McGettigan checks the measurements of a corset destined for a mother-of-three. For those not blessed with textbook measurements, the fit is all important.
"To be effective, it has to be shaped to the individual figure. You won't go from a 16 to 12 but you will smooth everything out. The challenge is to fit a person to a level where they feel comfortable and confident."
While flexible Rigilene boning has replaced the whalebone used for over 400 years, McGettigan follows classical methods, with at least two fittings to perfect the final garment.
During her two years at the Royal Opera House, she faced every corset challenge - including heavily beaded corsets for 12 prancing lionesses in London's production of Lion King - but the garments still have enormous dappeal off-stage. "I like to dress up in them. It's my form of escapism, a bit of self-pampering."
There may be evolutionary reasons for the corset's continuing popularity.
Desmond Morris, author of the Naked Woman, explains that the corset exaggerates the magic ratio of waist to hips, which for women is 7:10. Morris says this silhouette has sexual appeal on a primal level and when the corset reduces the ratio to 6:10, it becomes super female.
Some are just blessed with perfect measurements. The G-string rose to fame after Elle "the body" Macpherson shamelessly flaunted her Cabaret range of thongs in 1988. If you didn't own a Jane-Fonda-make-it-burn-butt, you took your jiggly flesh and ran for cover. There was never a call to burn the bloomer, but its reputation was undoubtedly singed.
The G then committed the worst fashion sin; it started riding bare-back over jeans.
From its position as the reigning undergarment, the G fell from grace. There were grumblings about its disappearing back stay and lack of support where it was due. Pretty soon "boy-leg" pants started converging down the thigh, Bendon launched briefs with discrete tummy control and now there's super-hold Fleexes.
Ann Harray is Smith and Caughey's Intimates apparel buyer and after eight years sizing up Kiwi figures, she says support underwear has risen up the racks. "The demand for these garments is definitely growing - even the young ones are wearing them, especially for balls and weddings. It's because these undergarments look modern, they're lightweight, seamless and far more comfortable."
Bendon's spokesperson Michelle Stewart concurs: "For years support underwear has been something that you'd only see in your nana's drawers. It was shunned by anyone under the age of 40 and never ventured far from beige or stopped above mid-thigh."
Some control garments have real sex appeal. Jill Alexander of Madcat recently launched a Puss Puss range of corsets made from PVC, velvets and satins. Alexander studied corsetry at London School of Fashion, and has been making corsets under the Madcat label since 2002.
"We use an 1890s corset based on a late Victorian, Edwardian shape. The emphasis is on the waist and the bones are set traditionally diagonally to the ribcage, accentuating the feminine curves. But these garments do restrict movement - limbo dancing is out of the question."
It's labour intensive; each corset is made up of four layers of fabric and consists of 50 components. After 25 years in fashion, Alexander can easily spot an ill-fitting corset. The laced gap in the centre back should be parallel and between 3-6cm.
Talk of clamping waists used to rile 70s feminists, so why are we reclaiming, and even celebrating, the corset?
McGettigan says: "We can thank the feminists for giving us the choice to wear one. We've been given the freedom to decide when we want to wear it, and why."
In The Corset: A Cultural History, Valerie Steele argues that those who crusaded against the corset did so in an effort to constrain women's sexuality. In a year-long investigation carried out in conjunction with a fetishist named Cathy Jung and a cardiologist, Steele found that daily tight-lacing created no enduring effects on the women's health.
Most corset wearers aren't bothered with displaced organs; they want back support. Kate Hennebry says her silhouette was completely transformed, and Rita Stone turned to corsets after a continual struggle with posture.
"The corset forces your spine into the correct posture and the grace and stature this brings is extremely confidence building."
Both admit to feeling ultra sexy in this clinched embrace.
The modern woman is a puzzle; with her twin desires for emancipation and a wasp waist. And it's quite possible the corset will never swing properly back into fashion again, eclipsed by a "muscular corset" shaped by surgical sculpting and liposuction.
But hopefully the romance of the corset will prevail.
When Dulcy Harawene married James, the corset under her satin dress was the "something new, something old". McGettigan's design was complex; 20 panels and careful padding to round out the bust. The couple wed at Karatu marae on a freezing winter's day. It didn't matter.
"I felt completely like a princess. It transformed the dress into something special."
"Clinched and slightly breathless in my bedroom, I have gathered some gal pals to grade my derriere in the 'magic knickers'. There's no point asking your partner if you're bum looks smaller and besides he's turns away in disgust at the sight of them. In the end, it's my son who comes up trumps: "Wow mum, it's way smaller. You were busting out of those trousers before."
Yes, the G-string is dead.
Further information:
costumestudio.co.nz
pusspuss.co.nz
belladonna.co.nz or 0800 KNICKERS
Return of the corset
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