On Thursday I went to an event at Oh Baby! on Broadway, showcasing corsets by a company called Vollers, from England, where apparently many corset manufacurers are located. Now, I had never worn a corset before, and they mainly remind me of fetishists and the Rennaisance Fayre. But if you’re looking for fetish corsets, they have cheaper versions at sex shops: the corsets on hand here are so serious they’ll last a lifetime. The one I tried on rang in under $250—a steal for something that’ll be around as long as I am (or at least as long as my waist is around the same size). First off, putting it on is preferably a two-person job, although the store’s staff told stories of tying the ends of the laces to doors and furniture for some self-tightening. Either way it is pretty cool to watch your body be molded and whittled right in front of you. One thing I did not expect is how well the corset supports your back, forcing you into great posture (which you must retain as you sit—it transformed my body language into something of a grande dame affectation, which was fun). My main question concerning this contraption of a garment was whether, once I’d tried it, I could envision it having a place in my wardrobe. I am not inclined to wear it as an outerwear piece, which some women opt for. I met a woman who is going to wear one under her wedding gown, which I think would be great as long as you’re not prone to fainting. But for me the only way I can envision a corset becoming part of my repertoire would be to have a suit custom ordered to fit the corsetted curves, with a jacket that flares at the hips over a slim pencil skirt. Otherwise, Halloween just a couple days away, and if you’re going as a Rennaissance wench and you’ve got a creative streak, go on and try one on, if nothing else than for fun.