BDSM & Alternative Lifestyle Personals
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Curves never went out of style
1/21/2007 9:08 am Last Read: |
I've been doing loads of rubbish this week; most of it is very unsexy and just takin' care of business. I seem to have no time for anything these days but cleaning, trying to get job things sorted, figure out how to get myself right to land something boring and soul destroying, this thing called a "real job", and how to stay sane while surrounded by people who think watching Big Brother and talking about their diets is the only way to spend a day. And of course my son takes big priority there too. I'm still doing jewelry, I'm still trying to keep some creativity in my life. There's so much I want to do, and so little time to do it. It's like mundane life is interfering with me in some fundamental way. It's beyond frustrating - there's no way for me to write about it which will make any kind of sense, so I don't write at all lately. About the only bright spot I've had is getting the measurements for this ballgown. It's a long process, but it's coming together. I'm spending a stupid amount of cash on this dress and corset, but as most people in the kink lifestyle have entire wardrobes dedicated to their fetishes, I shouldn't be so apologetic. This is my one big hurrah, when Badkitty gets to play. And considering how utterly unsexy and apathetic I am to meeting anyone lately, I'm just trying to gather up the scraps of my enthusiasm and nurture them until Friday. The seamstress is very competent - she knows things about the fold and drape of fabric, as if she was reading and translating some kind of secret text. I have no idea what she's seeing when she pins, tucks, scribbles on calico. But all that pinning, darting, humming and cursing under her breath in Afrikaans seems to be working, because this dress is going to ROCK. I've gone on for sizing and resizing, and we've gone from just something cut from a pattern to something that fits ME specifically. If you ever thought custom made clothing was just a bunch of bullshit - let me tell you, you're wrong. Truly, seriously, completely wrong. Get one piece of clothing made for you by a competent seamstress or tailor, and you'll see what I mean. Finally, when I tell someone my breasts really ARE that large, and my waist really IS that small when corsetted, I don't get pooh poohed and reassured. She actually screwed the mockup corset up in a big way the first time because she undercompensated. Everyone does - her eyes nearly popped out as much as my boobage when she saw how badly the fit was on the corset. I'm not sure whether I should be gratified or embarassed that I've got the biggest bust she's ever tried to corset. Big titties ain't all that when you can't ever find clothes that fit, boys. And gravity isn't so kind, either. But she's done the changes and corrections and good goddamn, you'd never think a bit of fabric sewn together would fit so well! Now, sure I could put a big dress on and go to the ball. Sure, put all fat chicks in rich fabric with as much elegance as a potato sack and that's what we're supposed to be happy with? I don't think so. She's pinning and tucking the hell out of this black satin, accenting the hourglass shape I have until you'd have to knock your own eyes out of the head to miss it. Add a train, the interior fitted with purple brocade - it will flare out into dramatic colour when I walk down a hallway - and we're talking some wow-factor. I can't even tell you why it looks better than something I could buy off the rack for a fraction of what I'm paying, but it does. It just does. All the while this woman is doing her pinning, tucking, and cursing, she's enthusing about my shape. "Have you seen Queen Latifah in Chicago?" she pipes up round the pins in her mouth? "My god that woman is just gorgeous! Her shape is divine, she's so lush. Women in this country have no curves - they hide in their clothing, because society tells them all big women are just lumps. You're going to soooo prove otherwise in this outfit, my dear. Knock them dead with this on the ball. "I don't know who does the fashion mags these days, but trust me, curves never went out of style." So here I am, with my hair a mess, trying to get my mask put together, and waiting for my still-lurgy infected lungs to clear enough for me to work on my choker. I've got a job interview and an autism assessment to sit through this week, lashings of cleaning and organising and one more fitting on Wed. night. I'm looking at my savings account and wincing as I'm going to have to use that AND my credit card to afford all this going out rubbish. I'm sighing apologetically at my inbox, at contacts and correspondence because my brain is going so many different directions at the moment I have no time to write, hardly any time to think, and meeting anyone for anything is too much energy output. Saving up my energy right now...saving it up to lace myself up in black satin, to zip up, to clasp on those backseam stockings, put on that mask and Be Someone Else for a change, someone who isn't tired and strung out and exhausted more often that not and just let badkitty Tear. Some. Shit. Up. So I'll see you after all that. |
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