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'Tits & Hips - that's why I do it 'said Fashion Designer Antonio Berardi in September's Vogue Magazine. It was a sentiment that other designers rushed to echo. 'It's a very proud female silhouette' says Felitz, who is inspired by Fifties Dior before going on to say "A woman should never look like a victim" Interestingly these designers saw their clothes as something which empowered Women. Their corsets are 'strong - they are designed to build confidence'
The wide shoulders, clinging skirts and teetering heels gave a undeniable female silhouette which non-the-less empowered their owners.
The epitome of this was of course - Madonna - the material girl of the eighties who saw what she wanted and got it. The coveted central role of Evita was won by a single minded determination to claim the part she saw as her own. Nobody - it seemed - really wanted to argue with a woman who wore her spiky underwear on the outside. Maybe, like superman, the outer-wearing of inner clothing entitles her to take power. Did she really say. 'I never was so happy as when I was loading the washing machine for Sean Penn' Surely some mistake.
The last great Queen of Britain's empire, Victoria, died in 1901. With her demise the confidence which had driven the nation also vanished. The corseted female figure of course continued into the Edwardian era but increasingly the corseted female form seemed to contain victims rather than confident emblems of power.
The rigid, unbending portraits of the Russian Royal Family and the Austro-Hungarian monarchy seemed poignant after 1917. The upright forms seemed to display a power they could not in the end enforce and an arrogance which blinded them to their peril. The rigidity of the bound figures epitomised their fate.
By the beginning of the 20th Century clothes-for the first time were cut on the cross. The weft of the material running horizontally across the body echoed its structure without the need for the controlling corset. The newly fashionable bicycle also added to the demise of the corset. The bikes frame demanded clothing which allowed the rider to be free (completely unlike horse-riding). Any woman who has attempted to ride a bike in pencil skirt will know exactly what I mean. Culottes were the order of the day.
By the twenties everyone was familiar with the flapper girls. The new dances also demanded free flowing dresses. Could you tango in whale-bone? All the new activities exposed the body. And the body needed to look good. The great advantage of tight-lacing was that it made the female form look fantastic. In reality the flesh may be sagging and some stones overweight but pour it into one of these structures and it became magically svelte like. In the jazz clubs and the cycling clubs there was no place to hide. By the 20's it seemed incredible that Edward's V11 curvy mistress Lilly had been such an icon of female beauty. The new model was thin thin thin. Wallace Simpson famously declared you can never be too thin or too rich. Nearly a hundred years later this still is held to be true.
For the first time the idea of the body beautiful began to enter the nation's consciousness. Vogue advocated fresh air, long walks, exercise and Yoga. The body was seen as a machine: self regulating and liberating in itself. Eventually - and sadly - this reached its logical conclusion in Hitler Youth in the thirties. In Britain - the Empire trained boy scouts, brownies and girl guides. The guiding and Scouting demanded fresh clean, striding through an unpolluted landscape. Even in the seventies my parents enrolled me in the local brownie group. Which as a cross book loving seven year old I found ridiculous and a complete waste of time.
The mass movements of such institutions meant that the ideal of healthy free bodies was available for the first time to everyone. There was no escape from the magazines, radio and eventually TV which would tirelessly promote the attractiveness of youth and freedom.
Literature too followed fashion's lead. The novel of this time is full of hide-bound heroes and heroines stepping out of the shackles of convention and authors' anger at the previous generations repression was voiced. Somerset Maughan's 'Of Human Bondage' and Simeon de Beauvoir's famous dictact 'One is not born , one becomes a woman' show the new cynicism of the age.
The spirit of mankind was ground down by the petty and suffocating rules of religion, convention and fear. To be free the hero had to cast off its shackles and speak and claim its own identity.
The sixties found women burning their bra's (actually everyone says this but I am still not sure one bra was burned in anger in Europe? Were they ? Please help). But the image was graphic and still has the power to anger conservatives today. The unbound female still had the power to frighten the 20th Century Male.
But by the seventies to all intents and purposes the corset was dead. It was something that ladies catalogues called mysteriously 'foundation' garments' and were an object of mirth to my mother and friends. Surely they cried giggling helplessly - nothing could be more repellent to a lover than untying all that lace and finding the cellulite within. Once they had stopped their mirth they returned to their favourite subject food: or rather lack of it. They anxiously counted the calories and were stricken with shame should they be found with anything but wholemeal bread, organic yoghurt and cider vinegar.
The only aberration against this was Barbara Cartland and her bodice rippers which sold more than they do today and Pauline Reage's The Story of Little O. While every female north of the equator were demanding equality and liberation, saying NO, Shan't and Why Should I then? This French author sat down and wrote a classic erotic tale of a woman whose whole purpose is to submit to the male will.
Little O is prostituted by her lover. She is bound in chains, corseted and whipped. She is raped and told she has no will, no authority, no object except to submit.
A typical extract
'O was surprised at how happy she was to find herself once again ensconced in the tight fitting black corset. She had obeyed and inhaled deeply to pull in her waist and stomach when Anne Marie tightened the laces. The corset came up to beneath her breasts, which an unobtrusive stay supported so firmly that they were projected forward and seemed all the more fragile ... O was.. standing in front of the mirror, with her mules on her feet and her waist throttled by the corset.'
The story of Little O became a classic admired by Graham Green, Harold Pinter and Brian Aldiss. But not - by me. If it wouldn't have pleased her so much I would have smacked Little O and sent her to bed for being so useless.
The Corset shaped and dominated Little O in a way which was both seductive (to her) and terrifying to the reader.
In the last ten years the corset has made a come back. Championed by Vivienne Westwood and Madonna it has become publicly loved garment, once more.
As feminism is under attack and the mores of the sixties are being questioned the cult of the body beautiful is also seen to have its limitations. Exercise does not get rid of wrinkles or lift the bust (which has no supporting muscle). In some ways the corset seems to be disappearing inside the body as women desperate for slim figures insert silicon or fat filled breast implants into their chests and faces are lifted and then aided internally by cheek and chin augmentation.
The female carton heroes of futuristic magazines prance across the pages in corseted tops, padded shoulders and high boots. They are dominant and dominated
The corset - invented by men against male attack has like Virginia Woolf's Orlando changed sex. In this decade it is worn by women to invite male attention. Like good armour it diminishes weaknesses and makes the wearer appear strong. If the twenty-first century continues the battle of the sexes then it will be interesting to see how this little turncoat turns out.
