METAL CORSETS: THE NEXT COLOSSAL WASTE OF MONEY
I am a big fan of corsets. The comfort of the woman be damned, damned straight to hell! They push things up and down in just the right way to appeal to my basest instincts. My ex once surprised me after a fancy dinner party by revealing that she was wearing a corset under her dress, and if you think that’s not a memory I’ll cherish on my death bed, then you’re nuttier than the new supergroup featuring Marilyn Manson, Eddie Van Halen, Phil Fasciana, Evan Seinfeld, and my aunt Sandy.
That being said, I’m having a hard time getting behind the idea of designer Maya Hansen’s new line of metal-themed corsets, which Metal Injection’s resident Gloria Steinem, Noa Avior, brought to our attention via this piece at Metal Injection.
Thing is, in certain corners of the metalsphere — specifically, dweeb metal — corsets are already fairly common practice (see: Epica, After Forever, Tarja, etc.). So why do these internal organ-destroying outfits need band logos on ’em? Is there concern that men won’t already be ogling the body of the woman wearing the corset? Or could it be that slapping these designs on the corsets allows the designer to hike up the price, the same way a black baseball cap costs about ten bucks, but a black baseball cap adorned with a Slayer or Metallica logo costs three times as much?
Really, this strikes me as the kind of thing that only future Nobel Prize winners like this one would wear, y’know, when they’re “going to a metal concert-thing.” It looks appropriately slutty, and in case there’s any doubt that you’re metal chick even though you’re at the aforementioned “metal concert-thing,” it screams, “Hey boys, I like metal and you like sex, come n’ get it!” Which is extra-silly because, as Kim Kelly noted on this very site, all a girl really needs to do to get some attention at a metal show is go to a metal show. Horny overweight pimply unbathed antisocial nerds are easy like that. Something about beggars not being able to be choosers, I think.
In conclusion: Ladies (I know there’s at least, like, four of you reading this right now), save your money for something worthwhile. Like a rape whistle and pepper spray to bring to the metal concert-thinger.