Tuesday, July 5, 2011

Corset shopping in Camden. Or not.

The only thing I really, really, wanted to buy in London was a corset. See, I just don’t need the Kate doll, the vintage gloves and the God Save McQueen scarf.

An hour glass shape, however, that; of course, is something I do need (want? whatever). At the end of the 20th century women lashed out at the corset and rebelled against forcing their bodies into a shape that pleased men. I pretty much think that stuffing myself into such a theatrical fashion item would please me more than anyone else, for that matter. I know it hurts but there are few things as much fun as donning some false eyelashes, glitter and feathers and indulging in a few flirtatious moves. Bring on the burlesque.

In London corsets go back way beyond the Victorian and Edwardian eras so I thought it would be quite the cultural experience to shop for one. After all, I had done the Big Ben, the Tate, Madame Taussauds, Harrods, all on previous trips, tick, tick tick – and was up for something a little more interesting this time round.

So, besides a full time working week or two in this busy town (it was quite the challenge trying to coordinate the tubes, trains and buses to a time schedule on the way to the office and back!) this was going to be my week of finding a corset somewhere in the city.

And yet – no such luck. Google wasn’t much of a help either as most of the stores I tried to seek out closed or moved. Admittedly I did not have all the time in the world to look around. My last attempt was a general stroll around Camden early evening hoping to stumble upon a little corset shop in a side street somewhere before they all close, but no. No corset for me.

I did, however, find The End of the World (see picture), at the end of a long week, in London’s Camden Town. A most fitting conclusion to the inevitable drama that ensues when I. Just. Can’t. Have. What. I. Really. Really. Want.

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