If you ever wanted to be Wonder Woman....

Because let’s face it, who didn’t? Her costume was FAR and away the best of all the super-heroines AND she was a feminist icon to boot (She hailed from Themyscira, an Amazonian island successfully run and inhabited solely by women… until a man came along and buggered it all up. For more on this fascinating history go to http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Themyscira)

Or as an alternative, what about my favourite, Scarlett O’Hara. Scarlett, or any other pre-20th century femme really who paraded an hour-glass figure, underskirts and a wasp-waist.

Yes, since my early says I have been fated to be an ardent lover of all things corsets for both Scarlett and Wonder-woman relied upon, firstly, a corset and, more often than not, ‘foundation wear’. ‘Foundation wear’ for the uninitiated is any undergarment incorporating bones, originally wood or whale bone, now steel. I’m talking corsets, corselettes, girdles, suspender belts and brassieres.

Now for me, these five items are the five pieces of armour (in both a literal AND metaphorical sense) essential in EVERY woman’s wardrobe.

We (the female ‘we’) all wear bras, of course (at least I hope we do. The 60s are over.) But, alas, the other four lapsed into obscurity in the latter half of the twentieth century. And, well, I am here to try to fix that.

It was once said by some nameless, impertinent man, that should I ever be in a position of power (above and beyond the innate power my Y-chromosome awarded me as my birth-right that is), my first decree would be that all women should wear corsets. And that nameless man was not far wrong.

Alas, I am in no such elevated position of power. Lamentable - yes and a fact that makes the world a poorer place for it, but no less true I am afraid. I am, however, through the art of narration and opinion-giving (aka. this blog) in a position to set forth a persuasive and informative argument to help usher in a re-visit to the by-gone days of foundation-wear.

So let the persuasion and information commence.

Let us first start with the best and most exciting of all the foundation wears… the hallowed corset.

My first ever corset, in the foolish days of my corset-nyophytry (yes, I made it up) was a PLASTIC-BONED!! under bust corset. As the name implies, the under bust corset starts under your bust. The under bust is not meant to be seen really, its purpose is to hug the waist and hips to create ‘the wasp waist’.

Under bust corset here:










Freakish unhealthy, not to be recommended at all, we don’t like it, oh no it gyps but you get the idea anyway, wasp waist here:













And who WOULDN’T want an extra teeny waist for some guy named Rhett to come and pick you up by and spin you around in a field of barley before collapsing laughingly into a heap of joy and romance. I know I can’t be alone?












So anyway……once you have your wasp-waist, you layer on your waist-loving clothes. Think 40s and 50s.

My favourite EVER waist-loving clothing item is the superlative ‘Wiggle-dress’. Marilyn Monroe, Bette Davis, Betty Page… all these ladies know the power of the wiggle. In fact, Marilyn was never OUT of a wiggle dress. Try finding a picture of her wearing anything else and it’s not easy. And that’s because it simply IS the best dress in the world. As you can see:




Now, to crash the dreams of men throughout the globe, Marilyn did not just pull on her wiggle dress and wiggle over a man-hole or two. Marilyn, like most women, was not born a perfect wiggler. To achieve the perfect wiggle, you need…. the cheeky girdle.

The cheeky girdle does for the hips what the corset does for the waist; it primes and curves it to perfection. The green girdle below is a perfect choice for a wiggle dress. It is high waisted so will tuck in your waist at the same time. For the perfect Marilyn wiggle get yourself a girdle.













Girdles are also a more theatrical alternative to suspender belts - they always come with snaps attached. A word of warning here, always look for a girdle with six snaps if you are planning on wearing seamed stockings. Without six snaps, your seam will travel halfway round your leg – numbers five and six keep it poker straight.


The corselette is a combo of three foundation wear pieces. Corset, bra and girdle. It usually comes with snaps attached a separate suspender belt (after all this glorious fancy under wear, you do NOT want to go and spoil the whole look with a pair of 40 denier opaque tights! Silky stockings are a must.) On this point, as a general rule, get rid of your tights. Stocking and suspenders/girdle or at minimum hold ups are FAR more attractive - ask ANY man - and more sensible... if you ladder one leg, you don't have to throw aay the whole caboodle, keep the remaining stocking andmary with another pair!)

In terms of sex appeal, however, the corset and/or girdle are miles ahead of the corselette:












No comparison really.

The corselette mostly comes with a bullet bra built in to it. The ‘bullet bra’ was around aeons before Madonna extended it’s peaks as the 50s was the true era of the bullet bra. Don’t ask me why they like pointy boobs in the 50s because I just don’t know. I just know they did…… strangely.

For 50s fashion and bullet bras by the way, you are looking at poodle skirts and cardigans. Herewith is a poodle skirt complete with poodle motif:











It couldn’t be any clearer than that now could it.

My first corset in fact was purchased to enhance this EXACT poodle dress:

















(Oh, and in case you wondered, you need a minimum ‘4 layer petticoat’ to get the sticky-out look. Petticoats have no bones….their purpose it to make you stick out not in.)

This is STILL my favourite wedding outfit so if anyone wants to get married, PLEASE invite me because I LOVE wearing it. And spinning in it on the dance floor………. preferably to the Jackson 5…….. but I digress.

So….we know the purpose of the under bust corset and girdle. How about the over bust corset? This is the one most people know and many will have some variant on in their wardrobe. (Probably, shock-horror, an un-boned or PLASTIC BONED version!!!) As you may have gathered, plastic boning is a no-no. Let’s just say plastic boning is to corsets what Bernard Matthews is to turkey…. Don’t go there……… Leave well-alone. A plastic boned corset will last all of two or three wears and the boning will have bent and misshapen already. A steel-boned corset well-looked after will last you your ENTIRE life. (Thus the reason I can justify my recent £350 expenditure on a single corset! :)) A steel-boned corset will also:

1. Force a perfect posture;
2. Prevent over eating;
3. Adjust to your natural shape over time;
4. Serve as a waist trainer should you want to train it. (Waist training is where you wear a corset for pretty much 24 hours a day for a substantial period resulting in a PERMANENT change to your waist size. It’s what the ladies in the 19 century did, including the freak-woman above, and how Dita Von Teese achieved her burlesque figure. Essentially the corset pushes your ribs up and inches your intestines (YES REALLY!) upwards, allowing your waist to move inwards. It also means you get to prance around in a corset like a queen all day!)

Over bust corsets come in many different shapes – you have amongst other, Edwardian, Victorian. I personally favour the late Victorian look (second of the following corsets):














The over bust will do one thing the under bust doesn’t. It will magnify your boobs and give you a cleavage to die for. It also looks FABULOUS, so you FEEL fabulous. If you think, a woman’s wedding dress is her piece-de-resistance. That’s when she feels her most magical. Almost ALL wedding dresses incorporate a corset, even the floaties. It’s my sincere belief that it is the corset that all women are enjoying here and, as that is the case, why limit it to one day in your life? Corsets can be worn for a multitude of occasions.

Word of warning. If you already have big boobs - stay away from an Edwardian/straight-cut corset. Go for late Victorian or combine a corset with a halter neck, otherwise your boobs will be coming out your ears…… and that’s never attractive.


One bonus practical note regarding corsets, you need a man (or a friend) on stand by for dressing. You preferably need a large, wooden, four poster bed and maybe a big woman called Mammy too. Then you go full out for the whole…..











look.

So that…… in brief…. (get it?) is foundation wear.
It is beautiful and feminine and sexy. For me, lingerie and makeup is one of the BEST bits of being a girl. If you miss out on the likes of corsets, you are missing out on part of the style and fun of being joyously female.

Some of my favourite online sellers of all things oldy-wordly underwear are the following:

Corset history:

http://www.antiquecorsetgallery.com/

Corsets:

http://www.cocu.co.uk/
http://www.ellecorsets.co.uk/

Girdles:

http://www.girdlebound.com/

50s/rockabilly/pinup fasion

http://www.daddyos.com/

God how depressing

that we are back at work

Also not happy about the fact my black cardigan is missing a button so gapes open to show my stomach area. What is the world coming to when something like that happens to a professional girl like me?

I thought when the new year started things would change.... what a foolish, naive dreamer was I.

'Tis only the same old same old.

I see I must keeps my wits sharp and my tongue sharper if I am to survive these forthcoming days and months.

Data Girl... saviour of data rooms everywhere

When I think of Jon Pickup I generally feel pretty sick.

As my old Classics classmate, I was sickened to my stomach by his superior vocabulary skills and plethora of natural talents. He is one of those annoying guys who seem to be able to do everything. He can draw, he can write, he can play and compose music, he is very intelligent and probably has read more books than me. To top it all off, during lessons, he had the audacity to, correctly, challenge my (mis)use of vocabulary.

Like I say, he makes me sick.

So…… the reason why I am here, talking about Jon, is that this guy holds the key to me achieving one of my '101 things to do before I die' (for the uninitiated - see http://natalieuninterrupted.blogspot.com/2007/11/101-things-to-do-before-i-die.html).

He could be that hero.

Back in the old days of Queen Elizabeth's Grammar School to where I once went, Jon was inspired by his sixth form Latin and Classics class chums, to create comic strips to chart the shenanigans of the classroom. One was based upon Star Trek and the other, James Bond (aptly titled James Blond after Max Wilde, the 'Sun-in' blonde school-boy who was to play the title role).

Jon, in his omniscience, mainly used me as his villain in these creations from what I recall. Apparently I had the requisite authoritarian nature to fill the roles. As the Blond villain my mandate was to rule the world with a social reform that consisted of banning all burping, spitting and farting, insisting upon all woman wearing corsets and dresses and enforcing the rule that men must open doors for women and pull out their chairs. (Fair enough I think.) In his 'The Agamemnon' parody, I took the role of Clytemnestra. In Jon's estimation, audience sympathy for Agamemnon was assured given that the hero of the Trojan war was forced to return to a loud-mouthed, dictatorial and nagging wife who felt she could rule Argos better than he. (She probably could.)

Anyway, despite taking on the role as Blond villainess in the comic strip, I was highly disappointed never to be caricatured by Jon. All you ever saw of my evil persona was the back of my head. (But what a pretty head it was)

Over ten years on, now has come the opportunity for Jon to revisit my role in the comic world by helping to create my comic-book alter ego. I would like him to draw me AS A SUPER HEROINE.

The initial inspiration for my super heroine alter ego is based upon a pseudonym I gave myself as work based upon the unseemly amount of disclosure and data room creation I do.

Need a data room creating faster than lightning?
Need your documents organising, identifying, titling and redacting with the speed of a bullet?
Want some more info on that pesky asbestos issue?
Fear not o'Partner…call Barbosa aka. DATA GIRL.

Yes, that's me. Data Girl. Only problem is, and this is a self-deception I have previously identified….. I am no longer a girl. I am… 'a woman'.

'Data Woman'. There was Superwoman and Wonder Woman so why not Data Woman?

Thing is, it just doesn't sit right. I don't like it. It's not snappy like 'Data Girl'. I thought about simply 'Data' in the kind of X-Men tradition of naming superheroes. Give them a single name - make them more approachable - the People's Superheroes. I like it - 'Data' - but there is of course a 'Data' in Star Trek and so that's a real problem. The name lack uniqueness and could be easily confused in the minds of sci-fi geeks.

And so I'm calling upon the plethora of readers of this blog to come up with alternative suggestions.

I'm not going to outline the full extent of my powers and persona here but in order to think of names, you'll need at least something to go on. So here it is:

DATA……Data is information. Information is knowledge. Knowledge is power. Knowledge is in books. Books should be read at lightning speed by a super reader. A super reader would be super-powerful from their super -intelligence. Super-intelligence at a super-speed….
Have an enemy who is a martial arts expert? Give Data Girl a raft of martial arts books to read at lightning speed and, hey presto, she knows every martial arts move ever written about.
Got a nasty, little complex bomb to deactivate? No problem. Data Girl has read every tome in the British Library on bombs. She knows how to dispose of it in the most efficient and effective way.
Need a war strategy? No problem. Data Girl knows the Art of War like the back of her hand.

You seeing it?

So there's the brief for Data Girl and her powers of the mind.

All name suggestions much appreciated.

IN THE NEXT EXCITING EPISODE OF DATA GIRL:
Data Girl…… Where did she come from? Who is her arch enemy? What are the full extent of Data Girl powers? What is her superhero costume? What be her weapons? Find out… same time, same place…

Three further

OK, so I could have deleted out three of my current 101, create a 104 list or just add them here.

Deletion of three would mean new additions may go unnoticed by my profusion of readers; I don't like the number 104...... so the new three will just get added here.

Be a gangster's wife.
Be an art thief.
Serve on an MI6 mission.

101 things to do before I die

So yesterday, being quiet at work, I spent some time mooching around links from friend's blogs and came across this site http://www.todolistblog.com/

I love making a list as much as the next man (or woman) so inspired by the blog, decided to while away my non-chargeables by constructing my own '101 things to do before I die' list.

It's highly idealistic - I have not limited my goals by realism or achievability in any way.
Feel free to add any list you care to make to the comments section. I'd love to read them.

Live in Calcutta
Start an animal sanctuary in Africa
Meet my soul mate
Weigh eight and three quarters of a stone (as an adult)
Contribute towards the survival of the Mountain Gorilla
Meet Johnny Depp
Write a best-selling and critically acclaimed book
Meet an alien life form
Back-pack around the world for two years
Stand as a Green Party Member of Parliament
Learn at least one non-native language fluently
Understand and remember the theory of relativity
See the inside of the Sistine Chapel
Be surprised by the man I love by a silver service dinner on a cliff side/beach side position and a waiter to serve us.
Go to a masquerade ball at the Venice Carnival
Meet a mountain gorilla
Buy my Mum a house abroad
Buy a house in Tuscany
Drink a bottle of wine that costs over £500
Be a classics scholar
Enter a tango competition
Run an independent book shop
Go to the Hay-on-Wye book festival
Own a cottage in the country with an open fireplace
Work for the United Nations Human Rights Commission
Go to Glastonbury Festival
Become an adept skier
Own a horse
Meet the Dalai Lama
Witness China's withdrawal from Tibet
Learn to recite fifty of my favourite poems
Learn Sanskrit
Be in a Bollywood movie
Go skinny-dipping in my own pool at midnight
Paint a picture that's competent enough to hang above my fireplace
Buy a golden retriever
Go on an African safari
Develop a successful eco-business
Establish a human rights precedent
Go on holiday with my siblings and cousins
Be written as a character in a novel
Spend £1000 on Rigby and Peller lingerie
Invest in the stockmarket
Bake my own bread
Read the Oxford English dictionary front to back
Grow a cottage garden that has a stream running through it
Inspire someone to something wonderful
Learn to play the violin
Be described as 'diplomatic'
Join the Northern Ballet Company
Do a PhD
Solve a crime
Stand at the window of a traditional Parisian apartment with a wooden easel and stand and paint Roll in a field of daisies
Walk unafraid through a woodland at night-time
Camp in the rainforest
Live in Lisbon again
Dye my hair peroxide blonde and wear it with Marcel waves
Find an abandoned bag of puppies and give them a happy life
Learn how to do The Times Cryptic crossword
Have an article published in The Independent
Swim holding on the fin of a dolphin
Become a vegan
Make a chocolate soufflé
Volunteer with Medicin Sans Frontier
Learn the art of Burlesque
Own an LPG engine Nissan Figaro
Cry with happiness
Get jiggy in a library
Visit every country in the world
Have dinner with Bill Clinton, Shami Chakrabati, Michael Moore and George W Bush
Have tea and cake with Alan Bennett
Have a picnic in the grounds of a ruined castle
Star in a musical
Fly first class from London to New York
Work at the Virunga Mountain Research facility
Eat at a three-star Michelin restaurant
Own an Italian vineyard
Create and draw my comic book superhero alter-ego
Wear a white and gold sari to an Indian wedding
Find a dead body
See England win the World Cup
See my critically acclaimed book be converted into a film
Get jiggy in a lift
Win Pro-Bono Lawyer of the Year
Be able to identify all countries of the world on a blanked-out globe
Have a party attended by every single one of my friends
Meet a talking animal
End the fur trade
Become a makeup artist
Design my own range of corsets and lingerie
Spend a night in a museum
Develop and apply my own employee policy
Open a vintage clothes shop
Attend an open air opera in Venice or Verona
Learn how to fence
Be in Strictly Come Dancing with Brendan as my teacher
Live in a hippy eco-commune for three months
Stay a night at the Ritz
Find a treasure map

Have my own library

Head over heels update

Trips have been quite low on the ground this week. I suffered one yesterday and one the day before that. Monday's imbalance occurence was a highly dangerous and potentially fatal one, however, and falls into the category of imbalance I call

The Down Stairs Heel-propeller

This is my most feared imbalance. Not only is it rationally the most dangerous but also I have a long-standing phobia of stairs. Stairs will end my life. Stairs are how I will pass.

When I am old and more imbalanced than I currently am, I will fall down a case of metal stairs and hit my head on the bottom stair and die.

I can't recall when this came to me but I know it for sure. Thus the reason for my phobia. (Which happens to be the opposite of my Mum's. She has a phobia of lifts and takes the stairs.)

So, on this particular occassion, I was approaching the METAL stair case that leads down from Darwen train platform to the car park, a stairwell I have to face daily. On about the fourth or fifth step, I did not outstretch my foot enough when passing from one stair to another.... the back of my heel nipped the front of the passing stair and I was propelled forwards treacherously. Fortunately, the treachery was only momentary and I managed to regain my balance. My heart raced but I was fine. I was alive.

The Sidewards Swoon

This is the imbalance most directly descended from my weak ankle genes. The Down Stairs Heel-propeller has nothing to do with ankle/weakness and more to do with a lack of foot/eye coordination on my part (I will return to the subject of this equally worrying and potentially fatal infirmity at a later date)

So I was walking down Manchester's pavements, minding my own business and I came to pass over the bumpy, red concrete slabs that adorn the ends of our pavements for the benefit of the sight-deficient. If you imagine my ankles as personas akin to that of Mrs Bennett, then you will understand that the slightest divergence from the norm is likely to result in fits of faintness. And so it was this Tuesday afternoon. My ankle, finding the red bumps a little too offbeat, responded by simply passing out. It decided instead to lie down there on the pavement and thus collapsed itself sidewards to meet the street.

Fortunately, I managed to remain upright. Which does not always happen. No, on this occasion I stumbled, I called out to the Lord in pain, but I prevailed perpendicular. It was of course the right ankle. It's always the right ankle. It's also always this unnatural 90 degree bending motion that is the imbalance that most often results in a swollen ankle. It is my most frequent imbalance.

(A thought has just occurred to me, perhaps I should dab my feet with smelling salts each morning in an attempt to ward-off any inclination to swooning.)

Head over heels

No, I'm not talking about love...... I'm talking about a far more physical phenomenon, a phenomenon I experience daily.

To expand, it is, I suppose, more of a physical instability. A musculoskeletal frailty. I entitle it a 'phenomenon' as bizarrely both myself and my younger sister are subject to it. Not so Caroline though. Caroline, the eldest, has always been the more level-headed and balanced of the lot of us. On this issue, it is no different.


Amanda and I seem (unlike the majority of people above toddler-age and below decrepitude) unable to remain upright for unbroken periods of time. We are prone to, literally, falling head over heels, on an alarmingly regular basis. I'd say I that on average, twice a day I will experience some form of slip or trip or tumble or fall or totter or nose-dive. The most i have experienced in a 24 hour hour (sober) period is four 'imbalance occurrences'.


My former-partner made much of the fact that I am perennially found in a pair of (de minimis) two inch high heels and was constantly heard to wail 'Naaaaddderlie, buy some sensible shoes' 'Hon, you can't go out in thoooose'. And then, when I fell, he would just look at me and shake his head and often (and this KILLED me...or made me want to kill him) say 'See, I TOLD you not to wear those shoes'. I would rejoin with the same argument I will outline here:-

It is NOT my shoes. Ever since I was little, I have had 'weak' ankles and wrists..... when I was FIVE, my Uncle dislocated my wrists by merely picking me up by them. When I was SEVEN, Mum dislocated my wrists by PULLING MY COAT OFF (elasticated wrist bands). It's NOT my shoes.... I have a physical impairment. (note Amanda did not suffer from this dislocation - just me - I am more severe than her i.e. I need more sympathy).

Anyway, the whole point of me detailing this to you is because from today onwards I plan, merely for my own amusement and interest, to diarise in this blog my daily imbalance occurrences along with an in-depth description of the specific 'imbalance-type' and apparent cause.

I will note at the outset that my right ankle has been in a constant state of inflamation since one especially bad stumble some four months ago. It has never healed properly and I doubt it ever will. I think I am terminally injured. I therefore anticipate the majority of injuries to be sustained in the right ankle and to compound my terminal injury.

For your information, said imbalance occurred in a wholely sober state. I was, coincidentally, wearing my wardrobe's highest heels.

Am I wrong?

I have just received through my inbox news of large wildfires in Southern California and the subsequent evacuation of peoples from the surrounding areas.

My question is this: is it wrong that my immediate thought on reading this news was:

'It's good this has happened to America. The more natural disasters that happen to them, the more the current administration is likely the change its environmental policies/lack of them'

I suppose the real issue is how far can the American people be blamed for the actions or omissions of its administration and be fairly punished for them. Especially this is pertinent in light of the fact that Bush did not legally accede to the presidency. I was going to say that I don't feel the need to apologise for Tony Blair's policy decisions but I suppose that's not true. I do often defend myself when speaking to foreigner about the war in Iraq or the war on terror and am at pains to ensure that I am not understood to be pro-war in any sense and clearly distance myself from the attitude of the government.

I think this reveals more, however, that I understand that often citizens are wrongly allied with their leaders choices and policies by on-looking states and I am thus aware of the need to combat this presumption. Perhaps a better question would be whether I feel responsible for Tony Blair's decision and simply, I don't. I didn't vote for the man and I have taken pro-active measures to voice my objections.Secondly, if I accept that perhaps my response was prejudicial and unfair, can it be defended anyway? Is it preferable, ignoring any sense of retributive justice, for environmental disasters to hit America as opposed to any other nation state? Certainly, it has the economy to withstand the hit more than any other country and certainly its leaders do need a lesson in planetary humility. And whether or not the American people support US environmental policy, each individual US citizen consumes more than any other state-citizen, whether that be food, fuel or materials. Surely it is fair that a modestly impacting nation such as say, Uganda or the Netherlands, is only modestly impacted by environmental disaster whereas a excessively impacting nation, such as the U.S or China, bear the majority of such disasters.

This seems as basic and logical a premise of justice as even a child could grasp. It's the basis on which every modern legal system is based. The more serious the impact of the offence on society/the individual, the higher the punitive response.

Woe is me?

Today I am blighted with despair and ennui.

In an attempt to lift the ennui, I will attempt to dramatically and metaphorically convey said despair…..

I am a pebble pressed down by the carriage of life.
I am a helpless ant drowning in a sea of troubles.
I am splodge of soot upon the world's blackened brow.
I am Atlas struggling beneath the burden of the globe.

Truly…..this is not a auspicious start to the week.

I felt happy at about 1.53pm when I saw one of my colleagues wearing a yellow tie. And then there was the moment when I realised BOTH options on the canteen menu were vegetarian. Fool's hope! Our canteen food is shite, whatever the dish.

So that's it really, that has been my happiness quota for the day.

Maybe pondering on my forthcoming Death will cheer me up……..

Poets, poetry and a poem

I've been reading quite a few books of poetry recently and am attending several poetry events over the next week or so (organised as part of the Manchester Literature festival) One of the poets I am going to hear is my long-time favourite - Carol Ann Duffy. I was first introduced to her in sixth form A-level class with 'Standing Female Nude', she has been my undisputed poetry heroine ever since.

Sadly, she will not be reading selection from her love poems collections - which are by far the works of her that I enjoy the most. (Love, passion and death are the subjects that in all poets I enjoy the most in fact). Instead Ms Duffy will be reading from her children's collections, including her latest book, The Hat. I haven't read any of her children's work, so despite being disappointed not to hear some old favourites, I will at least get the joy of hearing some new stuff from the lady herself. I've re-produced below my favourite poem from her book 'Rapture' which collection deals with love - from its conception to its death.

You - Carole Ann Duffy

Univited, the thought of you stayed too late in my head,
so I went to bed, dreaming you hard, hard, woke with your name,
like tears, soft, salt, on my lips, the sound of bright syllables
like a charm, like a spell.

Falling in love
is glamorous hell; the crouched, parched heart
like a tiger ready to kill; a flame's fierce licks under the skin.
Into my life, larger than life, beautiful, you strolled in.

I hid in my ordinary days, in the long grass of routine,
in my camouflage rooms. You sprawled in my gaze,
staring back from anyone's face, form the shape of a cloud,
from the pining, earth-struck moon which gapes at me

as I open the bedroom door. The curtains stir. There you are
on the bed, like a gift, like a touchable dream.