“Lace me up,” I say, sucking in my skin as much as I can. I’m being fitted into a reinforced, metal strip, snap up, over the bust purple satin corset. My waist immediately drops six inches and I’ve got a bust like nobody’s business. “Nice,” comments the salesclerk, “But I think we can go a few inches smaller.”

Smaller?! My stomach already feels like it’s been travel-sized and the better part of my large intestine has been jammed into my lungs. In other words, almost a perfect fit. Why would anyone want to do this? Beats me.

The history of the corset begins in the early civilizations of Greece and Egypt. Female athletes were in need of support for their torsos and breasts in such sports as gymnastics, dancing, and bullfighting. Foundation support garments resembled a narrow band of cloth, wool, or an iron ring that ran from the waist to just below the bust.

However, the form and shape achieved from the painful constriction came to be admired and considered “feminine.” It soon became incorporated into dresses to demonstrate the beauty of an unbroken line. Corsets became political symbols in 16th century England, where size correlated to court position.

The first “true” corset was made from paste-stiffened linen. Iron was added later for additional shaping and support. Corsets were not entirely female either. Even men had their own form. Soon, metal and wood were phased out entirely for the whale-bone that would provide added stiffness. Use of this body-constricting device continued up until the early 20th century, although they had become dramatically less confining by the present day.

Waist-shaping, as the practice is called, gradually called for a training of the body into the desired form this metal trap was supposed to induce. The downside to these elegant contraptions: weakened abdominal muscles, malformed or broken ribs, difficulty breathing, liver damage, digestive problems, and a prolapsed uterus.

Currently, I’m on corset number four. The health risks are somewhat of a turn off. Victoria’s Secret makes corsets that are loose enough to be comfortable and still give that hourglass figure. They’re reinforced with metal but will stretch fairly quickly if worn on a too small figure. The prices start at around $58 and go up from there.

Frederick’s of Hollywood provides a kinkier fix for a slightly higher starting bid and Hubba Hubba of Central Square (Cambridge) is only for the serious minded buyer, starting at $150 and up.

There are as many styles as there are stores to sell them. Over the bust and under the bust, are as the names imply. Bustiers, not to be confused with corsets, are a shorter version that generally does not completely cover the back. It is generally recommended that, in purchasing a size, you go 4 to 6 inches smaller than your actual waist size.

Many see corsets as a symbol of the “oppressed female” and are outraged that such a symbol could become fashionable. Moulin Rouge helped to make wearing these unconscionable undergarments popular.

I don’t feel put down and kept down by any means – I like the way they make me look. I wouldn’t wear one on a regular basis considering the health risks. A few hours of discomfort is a reasonable trade off in the self-confidence and sexiness department when out at a club. Who’s to say that it’s any worse than wearing high heels?

High heels are known to cause degradation of the cartilage between knee joints, cause lower back pain, deformities in the foot, besides the blisters, corns, and calluses that are considered “normal” for anyone who wears them on a regular basis. Not only that, it stretches the tendons and muscles of the calf, reducing the body’s ability to maintain balance.

I eat my fruits, vegetables, and soymilk like anyone else. I wear sensible shoes and look both ways before crossing the street. I need a little sin to have little fun now and then, just like anyone else.