The Cedar Chests, Chapter 6

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After breakfast the following Saturday, Mary Jo put the gown she had selected for me in the car and we headed across the bridge to Cincinnati to the huge Kenwood Towne Centre mall. I wore jeans and a pale green pullover top and lightweight sweater. We were to shop for a cocktail dress and higher heels me, plus have the vintage gown hemmed.

We went to Macy’s first. MJ picked me out seven dresses for me to try on. We, I mean Mary Jo, settled on a simple black dress with full-length sleeves and a low-scoop neck It required a few alterations and would be ready by the following Friday. Next, we headed Nordstrom’s to get some higher heels for me.

We both tried on heels and boots. Four-inch heels were absolutely the limit for me. The five-inch heels made me walk funny according to MJ even if she thought they were cuter than the four-inch heels. Mary Jo selected a pair of size 8 black four-inch stiletto pumps and two other pair of shoes for me. Of course, Mary Jo picked up some new shoes for herself as well. During lunch at the Nordstrom’s café Mary Jo said I should order a credit card with Claire Taylor on it so I could make my own purchases.

We went to a couple places to have the vintage gown hemmed. Both places said they only worked on replica vintage clothes but the last place gave us an address of someone who did work on actual vintage clothes. Back in our car and twenty minutes later we arrived at a place called Stella’s Vintage Clothing and Alterations just off Clarks Lane. Mary Jo showed her the long gown and her eyes opened wide.

“My dear, this is one beautiful dress. It appears to me like it was made around the Civil War era to maybe no later than 1880, maybe earlier. Look here at this sewing on the hem. It is hand stitched. You can tell by irregularities of the stitching. Look here, see. Where did you find it?”

Mary Jo, “We found it a cedar chest along with many other dresses and other items in an old house my girlfriend bought. Can you hem it?” She nodded.

“Well, the cedar chest is probably the only thing that kept it in such immaculate condition all these years. I can’t see hardly any wear on it at all.” As she inspected it all over.

I tried it on with MJ help and put on my new heels. I stood up on a pedestal for the seamstress to work. I kept wobbling in the higher heels.

Stella looked up at me and said,

“Dear girl, the waist doesn’t look right on this dress. You do know these were always worn with a corset in those days?” I didn’t know that. How or why should I. “These delicate hand sewn seams around the waist area may not hold without one when you sit, get up or other movements.”

Mary Jo started, “Claire, there were three corsets in one of the windowsill cedar chests. Remember?”

The seamstress said she had some I could try on. “They’ll make the hem hang straighter and more natural too. I’ll go get one for you and see if I have one your size.” She found a tape measure and measured my bust, waist and hips then went into one of her back rooms.

Leaving my bra and bloomers on, MJ helped me putting on the corset as best she could, but then had to call the seamstress.

For five minutes the seamstress kept saying, “exhale dear,” then pulled the strings in the back tighter and tighter. I couldn’t inhale. Mary Jo was amused.

“Now there is a perfect mid-1800 waistline. Please put the dress back on, dear.”

When I finished MJ took some pictures with me wearing the corset and gown.

“Beautiful.” Said the seamstress. I should have it ready in about a week. I’d love to have that picture of this beautiful Southern Belle hanging in my shop.”

“I’ll gladly make a copy for you, Miss Stella and bring it to you.” Said Mary Jo. “Wow, Claire, that reduced your waistline a good five or six inches or more!” I wasn’t sure if human internal organs were designed to be so compressed and contorted for long periods of time. I wondered how ladies managed to wear one of these all day long.

“You may change now my dear girl.” Said the seamstress looking over the dress one more time. “I still can’t believe this dress has survived so long in this condition. Most period outfits seen today are replicas. My dear, it will be my privilege to work on this for you.”

“We will bring more dresses back in to show you went we return to pick it up.” Commented MJ.

I finally could inhale when Mary Jo released me from the captivity of the corset. “How long do I have to wear this corset the night of the gala?”

Looking at me, Mary Jo shrugged her shoulder and lifted her eyebrows, “Probably not more than 6-7 hours, tops. That’s all.” I groaned at the thought of it.

On the drive home is said, “That corset is a torture device. I see why ladies gave them up.” MJ said,

“We need to see if the one’s in the house fit you, or we will need to find you one somewhere. You’ll most likely need it for the other dresses too. You know you will now have go back to Macy’s to get that new cocktail dresses waist re-taken in too. And I think it may be a good idea and best if you wore them around the house with your new heels to get used to them.” I knew I had no vote in this discussion, so I kept quiet.

To be continued…

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Tags: crossdressing, featured, fiction, Transgender

Category: Fiction