Happy New Year

Happy new year, everybody. Hope you're enjoying your holidays and keeping warm properly bundled up!

Things have been busy on my end but next year will bring a few new things as time permits. We'll have the conclusion of the current story "Tonight on our slow".

The new year will also bring a new surprise that will spruce up the site a bit. I'll will also take some time focus on what has worked in the past and build upon it. It might be continuing older stories, or maybe me y stories on a familiar setting. Regardless of where you are, stay warm!

Tonight on our show (part 3)

... part 2

"You look hot. And I mean that literally and figuratively... what's that huge coat you're wearing?" It was Jake, my ex-husband...

Jake was the last person I wanted to deal with that night. I was tired, and the combination of the heavy faux fur coat, the thick sweater, and the latex underneath felt like a suffocating and constantly tightening prison.  I did my best ignoring him and began taking off my coat.

"And that waist! I think I haven't seen your waist in years, if not decades. That sweater, as thick as it is, is still way more revealing that those amorphous tunic things you wear nowadays."

"It's not the sweater. It's this awful contraption I'm wearing UNDERNEATH the sweater. A torture device that I'm sure was created by men who hate women.... Like you... Well, if you had any initiative." I barked back at Jake. "But yes, I'm very hot.... er ... warm!"

So you might wonder why my ex-husband was at my house? I wonder the same thing very often, even if there's an explanation. When we met, back in the early eighties, I was young and naive girl, trying to get my fifteen minutes of fame on TV, and jump start my acting career. Jake was low level playboy, fueling his lifestyle thanks to a trust fund. Our spurious romance led to an early marriage, but not before he showed his sleazy real self. He made me sign a prenup. I was hesitant at first, but I relented once he agreed to add a few concessions to the prenup. Just enough concessions so that I wouldn't be hungry or homeless... even though I had no claim whatsoever to his trust fund. Or so I thought. Surprise, surprise, we divorced five years later. And even those five years were a stretch.  The divorce didn't surprise anyone. What did surprise me was the divorce discovery... Jake claimed to be broke! His trust fund spent on parties, worthless gadgets and clothing (some of those clothes were hanging in my closet, I must admit). Our house was paid for, but there was little else. Except for my income, as a struggling presenter in cable TV shopping network. Turns out a double edged sword cuts both ways, and so did our prenup. I left divorce court still owning half my house, and owing Jake a few months of back alimony payments. I was in shock, but there was little I could do. Just like the prenup would have guaranteed me a roof over my head, it also guaranteed a roof over Jake's head. And since I was the only one with an income, he was my responsibility.



I hung the coat on the coat rack and proceeded to head to my room. It had been a long day and just wanted to strip off everything I was wearing as soon as possible. Once in my bed, sleep came soon, even if fitfully.



The next day on my way to station I grabbed the massive fur coat from the rack, and with a sigh slipped my arms into the tight fitting armholes of the coat. It was sunny outside, and although cool as usual for the season, I felt like I was going to boil inside that coat on my way to work. But I didn't want to risk Kim seeing me *not* wearing it, as impractical as it was. The sweater and the latex cincher was another story, they were in a bag. I didn't want to suffer them (or suffer trapped inside then) until I absolutely had to. By the time I got to the station, I was relieved to take off the coat. Even without the car's heat, the coat was more than warm enough. It was also so thick and restrictive that it made driving really awkward. Getting to the office and taking off the coat was a relief, feeling unencumbered once again. I walked over to the wardrobe room to see what Cristina had for me to wear today.

Cristina had a beautiful (and very thick, of course) knee length sweater dress. It was done in a color block pattern of ivory, blue and burgundy, and of course a chunky oversized turtleneck. It would have been more than enough to wear outside in the blustery days of early December. Or at least I would have worn it like that. But Cristina had other plans. I could already see myself sweating under the set lights while trapped inside that. Before the sweater dress went over my head, it was time to put on the obligatory waist cincher. It wasn't the one I had in my bag with last night's sweater. This was a fresh one. Cristina maintained that I shouldn't wear the same one two days in a row: "You don't want the cincher to get overstretched and loose its holding power." Yes, I knew I was overweight, but she didn't have to rub it in. I didn't even know how many cinchers Cristina had in rotation for me, but every day it was a struggle to put on the day's torture device. Soon enough the latex garment was sealed around my middle, and having already worked out a sweat just putting it on, it was time to slip into the sweater dress.

While I was donning plain black leggings under the sweater dress, Cristina brought out a shiny looking shoe box. She opened the box and took out a new pair of very chic booties.

The booties were new, and out of the box looked extremely cute. They were ankle high, and had a pointy toe. They were made of luxurious smooth black leather up front, and black snakeskin leather around the back. It wasn't until I focused at the sky-high stiletto heel that it dawned on me that I would be spending my whole day perched on those precarious shoes. 

Sooner than later, I was shod into said booties, and the heels click-clacked as I made my way to the set. The show of the day was a drag. Two hours of 'Toasty Trends', mostly featuring fall coats that were on clearance. But the upside is that the show went on without a hitch, without any drama. And that was good thing in my life right now...

"Hi Megan, it's me Susan again. Can I talk to you for a few minutes..."

"Of course Susan, how can I help you?"

"The way you have me dressed for the shows is getting uncomfortable. Can I at least wear lower shoes on the shows? The heels are killing me."

"Well, the high heels help you look a bit taller, and somewhat less pudgy, so I'd say for now we'll keep the 'killer heels'... So learn to enjoy them, they really help you and your image. By the way, love those booties."

"Are you trying to get me to quit? Where am I going to go?"

"Trying to get you to quit! Not at all. But if you read your contract, it says clearly we can set reasonable expectations regarding your image. And high heels it is. Cristina showed me some new super cute knee high boots that she found specially for you. Enjoy your heels. And keep up that smile."

-----------

Days came and went, and the new routine became just like the old routine, but with more and warmer clothes on. Suffer through the shows while faking a smile, go home, sleep, and come back and do it all over again.

Today's show was low profile enough to not have any guests, which means that Kim wasn't around. In fact, I hadn't seen Kin since that one incident with her gift... until I stepped off the set.

The new knee high boots that Cristina had gotten for me were killing me, after standing and walking around for more than 3 hours. Megan was right that the boots were "super cute", but mostly for the onlookers, not so cute for me perched who was perched on the precarious five inch heel (even if they had a one inch platform). And to make it worse I was boiling under the thick sweater dress that reached almost to my knees. The dress went all the way from the high turtle neck to  just a few inches short of where my leather boots reached. Underneath I had leggings, but not regular leggings, these were fleece lined ones.  It felt like torture, a hot . How much more could I take?

As I was walking Kim was standing in the hallway, casually speaking with Megan. As I got closer, I tried to fake a smile. Megan did the faked smile, and turned towards me.

"Susan! Great to see you, I was just chatting with Kim about the holiday specials we're planning for the next couple of weeks.... Hey listen, I also mentioned to her how you gave that new coat a chance, and how you know looooove it, right?"

I turned towards Kim and gave her the same fake smile...She smiled back...Saying Kim was somewhat bipolar wouldn't be too much of a stretch.

I was feeling distressed and uncomfortable after the long day. I was hot and sweaty. My feet hurt from standing for hours in my high heel boots.  My waist cincher was driving me crazy, I felt it digging in all over my poor and sore flesh. I was trying to fidget with the shoulder straps of my cinched to adjust them into a more comfortable position, but the sweater dress I was wearing was too thick and made it hard to manipulate the straps. Without thinking I blathered something unexpected, and that I would come to regret:

"Yes, I've really been loving the coat, and I've gotten so many compliments. Specially from Megan... I'm sure she would like to have one of her own."


Megan looked at me with piercing eyes... and I felt the whole room grow colder.



"Really, Megan!? I wouldn't have expect you to like this coat that much, but it's wonderful to hear! I'll make sure to have one made just for you as soon as possible."



part 4

Tonight on our show (part 2)

... part 1

Susan looked around the reception area. There was a large box leaning against a desk. A large garment box. Susan lifted it, not realizing how heavy it was. She placed the box on top of the empty desk, and removed the lid. There was a handwritten note on top.

Susan,

On this holiday season, I wanted to wish you the best for you and your loved ones. But I also wanted to thank you for the support you have shown me on all of your shows. The current day success of the Kim Danelle brand is in big part due to your enthusiasm. As a small token of gratitude, I wanted to give you this coat as a gift. This is by far the coziest coat I have ever designed. Since you've been one of my biggest champions since I started in the business I wanted you to have one of the prototypes, which I had done in your measurements. Hope you enjoy this coat... See you soon on the show.

xoxo 

Kim

Susan took out the coat from the box. It was an ankle length faux fur coat, in a deep brown. It looked bulky and luxurious. It looked not very different from the typical full length Kim Danelle faux fur coat. Susan had two of those faux fur coat at home, but seldom wore them because they never seemed too impractical for regular days. However, this coat felt different than any coat Susan had seen. It felt thicker and heavier. Susan peered inside the coat, and the lining seemed different from the other faux fur coats Susan had. Was it a reversible coat? It had the iconic Kim Danelle white and gold tag on the back, so Susan quickly put that idea away. Yet the coat seemed off. Somewhat piqued by curiosity, Susan slid her left arm into the sleeve and quickly realized why it seemed off.  The inside of the coat was actually puffed up, the fit of her arm inside the sleeve was very snug. Was it one of those coat that had a removable liner for extra warmth? Susan looked at the seams but couldn't find any zippers or buttons to remove such liner. Susan slid in her right arm into the faux fur coat. The coat was as heavy and warm as much as it looked in the box. Or maybe it was even warmer. Susan had already been feeling overly warm in the thick turtleneck sweater she had worn on her show. The coat quickly turned from cozy and cute to hot and heavy, and she hadn't even closed the coat. Susan could feel how the snug quilting inside the sleeves restricted get arm movement. Sensing the on set of a claustrophobic attack, Susan quickly took off the coat, and looked at the label:

Faux-fur shell: polyester

Fill: down/feather

Lining: nylon satin twill

This was basically a full length down coat inside of a length faux fur coat. No wonder Kim had said it was the "coziest" coat she had ever designed. Susan put the coat back in the box, and started lugging the box back to her dressing room. 

Once in the dressing room Susan took off the hot and heavy turtle neck sweater. She put on the top she had been wearing when see came in this morning, a plain cotton blouse with three quarter sleeves.

Susan grabbed her coat, a rather utilitarian hip length down coat, and headed to her car.

It was early December, but the air was already chilly that night. Maybe she should have kept the heavy turtle neck sweater?

---

"Thank you Kim, it was great having you on our show today."

"Always a pleasure Susan, it always is so much fun."

"Thank you for watching, and tune in tomorrow for another hour of 'Kim Danelle Apparel'"

... 

Susan and Kim walked back to Susan's dressing room in the back of the studio. Susan was sweating, she was wearing a thick knit cowlneck sweater, leggings and high heeled booties. Susan had just spent the last hour or so heavily bundled in a thick sweater, and parading around the set wearing a multitude of winter coats. Under normal circumstances Susan would have run (as much as her heels would allow) to the dressing room to change out of the hot stuffy clothes she was made to wear for her shows. But Susan was having a great time with Kim, as they always did. There had been a strong connection between the two ever since they both started their respective journeys. Susan as a television host hoping to one day make it to the national news networks. And Kim as a fashion designer.

Once in the studio, Susan started to pull up her cowlneck sweater. Underneath the sweater, Susan was wearing some fearful looking shapewear. The vest shaped garment covered her midriff, lifting Susan's substantial bust high up. A high back reached past Susan shoulder blades, where two thick shoulder straps went around each shoulder holding Susan ramrod stiff. Like a soldier standing at attention.

"Wow, Susan, what are you wearing?"

"This? It's a modern take on an ancient torture device, it's a latex waist cincher. Like a girdle, but built like a personal sauna.  It's part of my daily wardrobe nowadays. But not by my own volition, mind you."

"Doesn't look very comfortable..."

"I can't say it's comfortable ... actually, it's agony, I can't breathe and I feel my bust up to my neck! It's made of latex so it super hot. And it's got wires all around that will poke me every so often so that I never forget that I'm wearing this contraption."

"Well, it does give you a nice figure! Those curves would turn heads. And at least it keeps you warm, which you seem to like, by the warm sweaters you seem to favor lately. By the way, are you enjoying my gift?"

"Gift...?"

Both Susan's and Kim's eyes converged to the big garment box, leaning on the dresser.

"Ohh... If you didn't like it you could have just returned it to me..." Kim tried to hide her disappointment, but her face betrayed her.

"No Kim, I did like it, I just hadn't found the right occasion to wear such a gorgeous coat!"

Susan hurriedly got back into the massive cowlneck sweater she had been wearing during the show, grabbed the heavy coat from inside the box. Susan hurried outside the dressing room, but Kim was nowhere to be seen...

"What was that scene?" ... it was Megan, standing on the doorway to her office.

"Well, Kim was disheartened that I had worn this coat that she had given me as gift... but look at it, it's monstrous! It's like a down coat inside a fur coat."

"Well, that very ungrateful from you. You should stop complaining, and from now one make that beautiful coat your go-to daily coat. Remember that the 'personal image' clause in your contract applies not only to your appearance on set, but also outside. So enjoy your new coat, and make sure you do whatever is necessary to Kim happy. That's one exclusive the network can't afford to loose."

"... yes Megan."

"Great... that should at least be a first step to making it up to Kim."

Susan walked to the dressing room and grabbed her purse, too shaken after disappointing someone she considered a true friend. It just felt that her job ShoppingTV was getting harder by minute. But what other option did she have? At her age what other station would take a chance on her? Susan knew that she had signed a very advantageous contract back in the day. As her high heeled boots clicked on the way to the exit. Susan closed up her coat. It was cold outside, but not that cold. The thick collar of her coat covered most of Susan's face. Yet tonight she just wished she could sink into the coat and disappear for a while.

---

After parking my car and stepping inside my home I heard a voice I didn't really want to hear that night. "You look hot. And I mean that literally and figuratively... what's that huge coat you're wearing?" It was Jake, my ex-husband.

part 3...

Writing is hard... but finishing is even harder...

Writing is hard. But harder than writing is wrapping up and  actually finishing a story. I seem to have a lot of ideas, a lot of interesting set ups. But starting with that set up, and coming up with a full length story with a sensible plot is harder. That's one of the reasons why many of my stories are unfinished.

Having said that, there's the regular road blocks: time, motivation, etc... However at the end of the day I think I write for myself more than anyone else, and hopefully I'll be able to keep doing this. This is specially important given that the community for this particular "niche" is unfortunately not very active.

Should I keep starting stories even if they might never be finished?
Should I focus on creating a fully fledged "world" and just writing snippets in that "world"? (The world from "Deep Freeze" comes to mind)

Enough ranting for today... take care every one!

Tonight on our show (part 1)

"Yes, you can wear it during this upcoming winter, yes you can wear it when it starts to snow. It will keep you warm, and it will keep you protected, but it makes you feel so feminine, so trim. I'm  wearing the blue one, and Karla is getting into the gray one. I sweat when I wear this coat, I'm sweating right now. And you can get this beautiful coat today on a special introductory price. We have it in black, gray and this beautiful blue I'm wearing."
"It's really warm, are you hot, Susan?"
"Yes it's really warm ... uff ... I'm boiling in this. But it's a really cute. Can you see this? These are all princess seams, all of this pleating will keep you looking feminine while protecting you from the elements. It is a puffer coat, that's designed to keep you looking great, but also keep you warm and protected from the elements. So flattering!"
"Susan, can I zip you up?"
"Uhh... ok Karla..."
"It's a longer coat, around 38 inches length. It is filled with premium down, so you know it will keep you warm. It will keep you toasty when you're waiting for the bus, seating in the bleachers watching a football game, or just running around town running errands. The outer shell is made out of a gorgeous polyester taffeta, it's water resistant! Just for good measure let me pull up Susan's hood up so that you get the full picture. Look at this beautiful hood."
"Ohh wow... It's a really thick and warm hood. And look at this lush faux fur trim."
"Remember our operators are standing by. This coat won't last long. Thanks for watching and remember to join us same time tomorrow for another hour of 'Cozy and Cute', here on ShoppingTV."

"Uff, glad we wrapped that up. I was sweating out there. Let me strip out of this coat... like right now!"
"Yeah I know, you were looking quite balmy, Susan. Why did you wear that thick turtleneck?"
"It wasn't my choice, when I went to wardrobe this morning, it was the only thing Cristina had out for me to wear. But I feel like ripping out."
------------------------------
"Hi Megan, can I talk to you for a few minutes..."
"Sure Susan, please come in. Tell me, what's on your mind?"
"I wanted to ask you... Can I get assigned to shows other than winter coat ones? I would like a little more variety, plus I've been getting really hot under the studio lights while being bundled up."
"That's probably because you've been putting on the pounds."
"What...!?"
"Well, it seems for whatever reason, Kim Danelle really likes you, therefore we're actually going to keep you ONLY doing outerwear shows for the time being. You've been underperforming in all of the shows in which we've put you in. However the Kim Danelle brand is big business here at ShoppingTV, so I need to keep her happy. You'll keep hosting 'Cozy and Cute', 'Toasty Trends' and 'Kim Danelle Apparel' . As a matter of fact, Kim actually sent you a holiday gift. I think it's outside my office. It's some big heavy box."
"Ok."
"And keeping on with your personal ... 'image'... we're going to make sure you're dressed properly... and dare I say... modestly. Don't worry, we will make sure that your image aligns with the image we need in our network.  Anything else I can help you with, Susan?"
"Ohh... No... Thanks... Megan."

part 2...

Mother's needs (part 4)

... part 3

I put on my fur coat, and closed it all the way up. I also put on one of my fur hats and my leather gloves. At this point Tatiana was already immobile, tightly bound in her sleeping bag. Yet she struggled. She would soon reach the point of exhaustion. It was a hot day. At least it was a hot day for me wearing my fur coat. I'm sure it was unbearable for Tatiana. But I wanted her to learn her lesson. Whenever I went to attend to her with some drink or food, I would remove my fur coat, hat, and gloves. I was sharing in some of her punishment, but didn't want her to see me like that, vulnerable. It took Tatiana a good two hours to settle down. She wasn't enjoying her ordeal, but she was calm. It must have been brutally hot inside the sleeping bag. She was wearing two pairs of leggings, two turtlenecks sweaters, a puffer vest, a short down coat, snow pants, a long maxi down coat, snow boots, gloves and mittens. And all of that inside of a mummy style sleeping bag. My heart faltered, but I was determined to make her see that her dress code wasn't excessive. But I needed to have her understand what being dressed excessively warm really was like. 

Releasing Tatiana later in the afternoon, she was drenched in sweat. She was happy to gain her mobility back, but otherwise seemed very serene. 

"Come on dear, let me release you. You must be exhausted. I hope that you learned your lesson, your dress code is actually not so bad. And if you obey your mother, you wont have to go through this again."

"Actually, I think I felt asleep in the sleeping bag. I was very hot, but there was nothing else I could do."

"Oh yes, you did sleep soundly for quite a while. Now go on and take a shower."

As the days went by, Tatiana kept up her routine. She was doing well in school, and I had plenty of time to continue writing my novels. Tatiana did complain that it took her very long to take off her snow pants and coats when she got to school, so I went and spoke with the principal and explained to her the situation. She was very understanding and issued an exception for her so that she could keep her snow pants and her coat on during classes. Tatiana was actually glad that she could now keep on her snow pants and the lighter coat. She was even glad that she now had some free space in her locker.

I know it was hard for her being the warmest dressed person at school and any where she went, but she managed, and obeyed my wishes of staying bundled up... except for some Friday afternoons...

------

A random Friday afternoon, in late January Tatiana came in defiantly into the house. She came in carrying her long Canada Goose coat in her arms. Other than that Tatiana had been dressed as I had hoped, including her snow pants, short down coat, gloves and mittens. She dropped her long coat on the bench near the entrance, and stormed off to her room.

"There, I'm done for the week. Go ahead and punish me." She said as she walked to her room, not bothering to take off any of the outer wear she had been wearing.

Saturday morning I had to oblige and put her in the sleeping bag. Tatiana struggled as I pulled the garment over head and zipped it up leaving only her face visible. She also struggled as I pulled the straps tight, forcing me to pull harder to ensure there was no slack. The end result, her arms were tightly pinned to her side. Only then did she calm down, and I could see a sense of relaxation take over her. 

The blue months of winter gave way to spring, and Tatiana kept on the routine, behaving like the daughter I knew I had, except for some Fridays in which she ditched her dress code but abided by the prescribed punishment come Saturday morning. Never mind the fact that one Friday, as I was staring out the window  I caught Tatiana removing her maxi down coat, just steps away from the front door...

Epilogue

"Mother, I can't find my silver boots..."

"I've put them away, dear. Together with your other boots and coats. Today's the first day of summer. And school's out, you're not going out, are you?"

"I think I got used to being bundled up... Do you think I could... Get my winter boots and coats back? Maybe just to wear them around the house?"

"Dear, your mother is happy you've finally come around. I will go upstairs and take down your snow boots and your winter coats. And while we're at it, do you want to go to the mall to see what coats are on sale? It's the end of the season anyway, I'm sure we'll find some bargains."

"Sure, but as long as you also get yourself a long a warm down coat... Deal?"

... finis !  

Mother's needs (part 3)

When Christmas came around, Tatiana was dismayed when she unwrapped two of the large packages under the tree. In one was a new pair of silver colored snow boots, knee high, the exterior made of quilted nylon, and the inside fully lined with faux fur and topped with a fur cuff, very warm and cozy. They were probably even warmer than the ones she already had, but the coldest months of the year were still to come.

The other package had a very long and heavy coat, in a deep burgundy color. I knew that Tatiana knew what coat it was, it was a Canada Goose Mystique. The longest and warmest coat that they made. It was a full length coat reaching down to the ankles, made with a strong outer layer to block the wind,  and plenty of bulky down in the inside quilting to make it toasty. It wasn't cheap, but it was worth ensuring my daughter was warm in the cold Canadian winter.

"I don't think anyone at school is ever going  to be wearing anything as heavy as this, but ohh well, at least the color is pretty..." Tatiana was disappointed, but it was also obvious that she had expected something like this for Christmas.

"Why don't try it on and show your mother how it fits you?"

She stood up and quickly put her arms inside the coat. She stood with her arms slightly lifted.

"It seems too big. And I'm not but a kid anymore. I won't 'grow into it'."

"I know, I got it for you on a bigger size so that you can layer something underneath it. Go grab your short down coat and your snow pants, and try your new coat over them." I could see Tatiana mortified, but she had been raised right and complied with her mother's instructions.

 "Winter is just getting started." I said.

Adding the extra coat on top of everything she normally wore wasn't the easiest adjustment for Tatiana, but I made it obvious for her that I mandated it. She eventually seemed to have gotten used to wearing the layers I imposed on her. It relieved me to see that big burgundy bundle slowly trudging home after school. I knew she was warm and protected underneath.

The first week after the Christmas break Tatiana seemed to be sticking to her dress code. I had enlisted the help of the principal at Tatiana's high school to keep an eye on her. Given our story, she gladly agreed to ensure Tatiana was properly dressed and didn't get sick. Everyday I was confident she was wearing her layers while going to school and while coming back home... until Thursday. Tatiana came into the house holding her new long coat and her snow pants in her hands, she was only wearing her regular down coat. As soon as she stepped into the house she threw them at my feet, and turned around towards her room.

"I just can't... I don't care anymore. I had a horrible day and the last thing I wanted to do was squeeze into those dumb snow pants and that awfully hot coat. Do whatever you feel like doing... I don't care."

I did not bring up Tatiana's transgression that evening, not the following Friday. I did not want her to loose more school. But come Saturday morning, Tatiana was appalled when she come into living room upon waking up.

There was a mummy style sleeping bag with an integrated hood that would leave only the face exposed once the occupant was zipped in.

"Tatiana, you need to follow your mother's rules. You knew you were going to be reprimanded for not following your mother's dress code. Let's do this the easy way..."

"You're... You're going get me inside that monstrous sleeping bag...!?"

"Yes, you're going in one way or another. I want you to really understand that you don't have it that bad with your dress code."

"Ok, let's get it over with... " Tatiana responded. "If this kind of torture is your idea of discipline, so be it."

Tatiana started to try to figure out the sleeping bag, trying to find where to open it and where to slip in her legs.

"Not so fast, young girl. You're not getting off that easy. You're going to get the whole experience during your reprimand. I have already picked a couple of leggings and sweaters, just as if you were going out. And don't worry, I didn't forget to pick a vest for you. Put them on and then go and put on your snow pants, coats (and by that I mean both of them, the short one and the maxi one), gloves, mittens and snow boots. You didn't want to wear them last Thursday? I'll make sure you wear them today."

Tatiana frowned and went to the coat closet to get her things. While she started slipping into her snow pants and down coats, I could see in her face that she was devastated. I had to hold back my tears. I didn't want her to suffer, but also didn't want her to get sick due to the cold.

"I'm done, you can now put me away in that horrendous thing."

"Put up your hoods... Both of them..." I nearly chocked.

After she was fully dressed, I helped her into the sleeping sack, which was lying on the living room sofa. I carefully zipped up the mummy sleeping bag until only her face was visible. It was a tight fit with all of the layers she was wearing underneath. I pulled on the drawstrings to adjust the hood of the sleeping bag to ensure it wouldn't slip of Tatiana's head. It was a very snug fit with both hoods underneath.

Once Tatiana was zipped up in the sleeping bag, I brought out a plastic bag from the hardware store. It contained four thick nylon straps, with ratchet closings. You see, I didn't sew any rings into the sleeping bag, or Tatiana's new long coat. But I still wanted to make sure she would stay put during her discipline.

I wrapped the four straps around Tatiana's body. One around her ankles, the second just above her knees, another one at hip level holding her wrists, and the final one just below her chest, holding her upper arms tight against her body. Between all of the layers she was wearing there was a lot of give to tighten the straps. She was not going anywhere.

Tatiana was completely enclosed and immobile inside the sleeping bag. Only her sweaty face was showing. Struggling against the tight nylon straps going around the sleeping bag was going to get her nowhere.

"After spending some time enclosed in this sleeping bag, your long down coat will feel almost light..."

"This is very uncomfortable..."

"I know dear, but it's important for you to understand that your mother cares about you and needs you to dress warmly in the inclement weather... Breathe slowly and try not to struggle. It will pass easier."

I cannot deny that all of the recent events were beginning to affect me. To share some of my daughter's penitence (or perhaps because I was feeling guilty I was being too harsh), I went to coat closet and took out one of my fur coats... It was going to be a long Saturday.

To be continued...

Urban observations and musings

It was sunny and relatively warm this weekend. Between five and ten degrees Celsius. Not completely out of winter weather, but certainly a bright and nice day. A good day for a run along the lake front park.

As usually when the weather began to turn warmer towards the end of winter you start to see people eager to ditch their winter coats in favor of shorts and T-shirts. You also see people that just by default continue wearing their winter coats, until it's time to put them away for good until the next season.

As I was jogging one lady did catch my attention. She was walking along the lake front, alone, and was wearing a winter coat. It looked like a warm puffy winter coat. Probably a down coat, black, but nothing too extreme, probably reaching down to her hip. And also nothing too different from what other ladies were wearing around her. What did surprise me was that she was wearing not only snow boots, but also snow pants! The snow boots might have been a bit too warm for the weather, but there were a few other ladies also wearing snow boots. But wearing snow pants does seem out of the ordinary. I don't think people just have their snow pants lying around and just pick them up for walk in the part just like you would pick up an old pair of jeans. Wearing snow pants always seemed like a very deliberate decision...

Was this her "walking outfit" during the winter months regardless of how cold or temperate it was?
Or could there be another reason she was wearing such an outfit?

I can only wonder...

But I'm sure she was warm and cozy in her snow boots, snow pants, and puffy winter coat.

Mother's needs (part 2)

... part 1



"...Mother, but most of the kids are still wearing t-shirts and shorts. And you want me walk around wearing snow boots in September?"


"Yes, but they were born here. You were born in a very different place. From now on I also want you to take your down coat and wear your snow boots to school. Here it gets chilly!"



"It's not fair, I'm going to feel humiliated dressed like that!"


"I won't take that tone from you. And because you're so reluctant, I actually expect you to wear your coat to and from school. Go on, put it on..." I threatened her.


Tatiana lowered her head, put her boots and coat on, and headed out the door. I was glad and relieved as I saw her walking away wearing her nice warm snow boots and thick down coat.


Based on my insistence, Tatiana soon started to wear enough layers to keep her warm, specially as she walked to school in the chilly mornings:

- A nice thick down coat, full of warm down to keep her toasty from head to just above the knee. I always insist she that wears it fully zipped and with her hood up, to keep the wind from making her sick.
- Her snow boots. They might get a little too hot for all-day indoor use, and are a bit bulky, but they are real snow boots.
- Leather gloves.
- A warm knit hat.


That many layers might have been too much for when Tatiana came back from school and the day had already warned up, but nonetheless I insisted that she dress warm whenever she went out, whether walking or driving. I made a point of helping her put on her coat, hat, and boots whenever she left for school or when we went out for some errands.


As the weather turned colder, I decided a few more pieces were appropiate. By mid October, Tatiana's regular outfit included:

- A thin turtleneck blouse AND a thick turtleneck sweater.
- A maxi down coat instead of her regular hip length coat. This reached all the way to her ankles, keeping her legs and torso warm.
- A down filled puffer vest. I bought her multiple ones, in various colors and cute patterns to make sure she always had one to wear.
- Down mittens over her leather gloves.
- A thick wool scarf, tightly tied around her neck to keep her coat's hood in place.
- At least two pairs of leggings, or one pair of leggings underneath jeans.
- Insulated snow pants.


Of this outfit, she hated the snow pants the most, and while nobody in school wore anything like that on their day to day, I felt they were important to ward off any drafts that could get in below her long coat. I know that she was overly hot on some of the milder days she walked to school, but discipline is not always easy. However I was a strong believer that she would acclimatize better to her warm clothing if she wore them every day.


And what did I normally wear when going out? At the very least:
- A turtleneck.
- Fur lined leather boots.
- One of my two full length fur coat back from my days in Moscow, which we had been able to have shipped from Ethiopia.
- A warn hat. Normally I wore one of my fur hats, but I also had knit hats for days in which my fur hats proved too hot for comfort.


I won't deny some days it was a struggle to dress like that, but I had to set the example for Tatiana. And besides, working from home I rarely left the house. But just like I imposed on Tatiana, I would dress warmly whenever I went out, even if uncomfortably hot. Tatiana sometimes complained that it wasn't fair that I didn't wear snow pants or a puffy vest underneath my fur coat, so I had to remind her I had been born in Moscow, not Ethiopia. I did compromise with her that would wear my gloves and hat whenever outside.


I would normally take a break from my writing to wait for Tatiana when she was due to come home. I wrote greet her and ask her about her day, while I helped her out her coat, snow pants, and boots. It had become a nice break to the endless writing and editing. One Thursday in late October, as I was looking out the window, I saw Tatiana walk up the steps, while holding her snow pants and coat wrapped up in large bundle in her hands!

As soon as she opened the front door and saw my face, she tried to explain, even though there wasn't anything to explain.

"I'm sorry, mother. I forgot to put my coat on before I got home. I'm so sorry, mother."

"Child, you're not supposed to just put on your coat right before you get home. And your snow pants? You need to put them on before leaving school! That's the whole idea."

"But mother, it's too warm!"

"Nonsense... You need to get used to wearing your clothes and stop complaining. I don't want you to get sick. And from now on, no more games. Now go to your room."

Tatiana dropped her outdoor layers and ran to her room. That night, both her and I remained quiet at night, respectful but quiet.


The next morning, Tatiana got ready for school as usual. Also as usual I helped her put on her snow pants, and the long maxi coat. She was already wearing her leather gloves. She sat down and I helped her lacing her snow boots. I slipped on her thick mittens over her leather gloves, and before Tatiana could notice the modifications I had made to the mittens, I took zip ties and fastened the mittens around her wrists.


"Mother what are doing?" She balked at me, "and what have you done to my mittens? I can't move my thumb." She sounded baffled.


"Dear, your mother needs you to dress warmly, so you with your mittens tied you won't be tempted to remove them. I've also sewed the thumb of your mitten to your palm so that you won't be tempted to tamper with your clothing."


"But what am going to do in school with all of this?"


"Don't worry, I've already called to let them know you won't be attending today."


While Tatiana was still struggling with her mittens, I went ahead and tied zip ties at the top and bottom zipper of her long down coat to metal rings I sewn into the garment. Tatiana wouldn't be able to manipulate the zipper with her hands stuck in the mittens, but I wanted to make sure she stayed put.


"But what am I going to do? I can't even use my hands."


"Yes, I know. This should teach you some patience and submission. The less you move, the less hot and uncomfortable you'll be."


She struggled most of day with her heavy and hot clothes, made even hotter by staying indoors all day (even if our house wasn't kept exceedingly warm). I could see she was distressed, specially in the beginning. She was clearly hot and uncomfortable inside her layers, and I could see sweat dripping from her face. I had to help her go to the restroom, and she struggled to eat with her hands stuck in her mittens, but otherwise she didn't have much to do. I felt bad for her, but I firmly believed it was for her best.


Later in the day, she relaxed and we even spent some time chatting in the afternoon, Tatiana still bundled up just as she had been in the morning. The zip ties and modifications I had made to her mittens and coat worked great.


"I'm going to release you now. But I hope you learned your lesson. If you don't dress properly; yes, as dictated by your mother, you will be disciplined again. Please, remember that your mother needs you to be warm and healthy. The sooner you get used to it, the better."


I started cutting the zip ties that were holding her mittens and coat closed.


"Will I have to keep wearing the mittens with the sewn together fingers?"


"No, silly!" I laughed. "I got you a new pair to wear to school, but I'll keep this pair around in case I need it again. Remember that, my girl!" She laughed coyly with me, and walked over to hug me.


The next day Tatiana was somewhat apprehensive, but did not put any fuzz when I dressed her up for school. She wasn't very happy about wearing the coat that I had sewn the metal rings onto. The rings were not visible, but she felt that she was one step away from being locked into her coat again. I told her it was the only long coat she had, and also the warmest, so she had to just wear it. She was glad that I gave her new regular mittens.


"I expect you to keep yourself bundled up until you reach school, and to bundle yourself up in the same manner when you come back. Snow pants, coat, gloves, mittens, boots, the whole deal. No excuses. Clear?"


"Yes, mother."


I watched as she took off, walking stiffly in her heavy snow boots, snow pants, and winter coat. Her arms slightly raised because of the bulk. "A bit encumbered, but warm, no doubt." I thought.

Mother's needs (part 1)

It's a big change moving to Calgary, Canada from Addis Ababa, Ethiopia. I'm sure it was an even bigger change for my daughter who had been born and raised in Ethiopia. I, on the other hand, was born and raised in Moscow, where I met my husband, a fellow university professor in the literature department. As the USSR pursued it's goal of global communism, it meddled in multiple countries around the world. One of those countries was Ethiopia, where the Soviets were trying to establish a "national democratic" regime, namely a single party regime led by a "workers party". To that end the Soviets contributed massive amounts of military aid. And to counterbalance, they also provided a token of civilian aid. That's how my husband and I ended in Ethiopia. Soon after getting married we gladly signed up to go abroad and help spread the worker's revolution. In the early 70's we left to teach literature at the University at Addis Ababa. That idealism soon turned to cynicism, as we lived a sheltered and privileged life among other Soviet diplomats and high ranking military officers. There was no shortages of luxuries in the Soviet diplomatic compound where we lived, specially compared to the harsh African reality. And in that environment my daughter was born and grew up. My husband and I settled on the comfort of our situation. Besides teaching a token number of classes to justify our tenure, my husband and I focused on our passion: literature. My husband focused on politics, writing articles about communism, while I focused on Russian language romance novels. We both achieved moderate success. My husband's articles being published in major Russian language newspapers around the Soviet sphere of influence. My novels became moderate hits in Russia, feeding the fantasies of the "new woman". Literature, and our new born baby Tatiana, filled our life during the late 70's and most of the 80's. Then in the late 80's the winds of change came and upended the Soviet society. I had stayed mostly isolated of the political climate until one day when Vasily, one of the embassy attaches, and close friend of my husband knocked on my front door, accompanied by Tatiana. Tatiana looked nervous, so I imagined she had gotten in trouble at school. I couldn't have been more wrong.

After sending Tatiana to her room, Vasily spoke with very cold words.

"Natasha, I need you to trust me. For the great appreciation I have always had for your husband and your family since I came to Ethiopia almost a decade ago, I need you to trust me. Your husband had been killed, he was shot during a lecture. Our intelligence agents think it was politically motivated because of your husband's writings. They also think you and your daughter are in imminent danger. Here or anywhere in what's left of the Soviet Union. I cannot help you in any official capacity because the recent changes have left the embassy in disarray. However, there's someone from the Portuguese embassy that has agreed to help you. Yours and your daughter's diplomatic passport have been cancelled, but Joao has agreed to get your temporary asylum papers to board a flight tonight to Lisboa. We must meet him in the airport within an hour. In 30 minutes, someone from the Soviet intelligence section will come to take you into protective custody. I wouldn't trust any of them. I know it's a hard decision. You must trust me."

With barely more than our clothes on my back and a few family photographs, we began the longest journey of our lives.

Portugal denied our application for permanent asylum, due to their diplomatic relations with the troubled Soviet Union, but they did help meditate with other neutral countries. Finally two weeks later we arrived at the Alberta airport, permanent asylum papers in hand. It was late May.

There was one positive twist, as the status of Lenin and Stalin crumbled to the floor. As capitalism rose from the ashes of the Soviet Empire, normal people still longed for the comfort of cheap entertainment to escape their mundane lives. And resourceful entrepreneurs were up to fill that void. Soon after reaching Canada, one such individual contacted me through Portuguese embassy. I had a publisher for my books.

School started early September, and Tatiana had been enrolled as a senior in high school. Luckily Tatiana had learned English (along with Russian) in the school for diplomats back in Addis Ababa. We had barely acquired a small house in a quiet suburban neighborhood, so we were still settling in. 

Tatiana had a hard time adapting, the cultures were very different, and while language wasn't a barrier, the capitalistic lifestyle was very different. The first few days she tried to fit in, but in a matter of a week she retreated to just focus academics and on finishing her schooling. I supported her, and tried to shield her as much as possible from the harsh changes she had just experienced. 

Soon enough the last days off summer passed, and the first day of fall rolled around.

"Mother, where are all my shoes? This is the only pair I could find." Tatiana held her snow boots, which we had purchased soon after arriving in Canada.

"Yes, I have just put away all of your summer shoes. You now only have your winter boots to wear. Your mother just wants to make sure you are warm. You're not used to colder climate."

... part 2

The Lady of Chadwick Manor (part 5)

... part 4

 Life at Chadwick's Manor is never easy. A life of leisure is anything but leisurely. And Miss Barbara was there to make sure no time we lost. My first daily walk had been a real struggle, weighted under layers upon layers of smotheringly hot garments and teetering in heels that were too tall and thin to stand in, let alone exercise! But of course that had not been enough. At the behest of Miss Barbara, John had a device installed at the far end of the courtyard. Miss Barbara was happy to introduce this new device to me:

"This device was adapted from one of mister Chadwick's  plants. It was a mechanical chronometer attached to a pressure plate. The main objective, as you might guess, is to keep track of how fast you're doing your laps. We can adjust the chronometer for a particular time lap. On each lap you have to step on the pressure plate to reset the lap timer. The chronometer will help remind you not to slack, a bell will start ringing when you're falling behind. The chronometer will also track your total time. If at the end of your daily walk you're running behind, we'll have to do a couple of extra laps to ensure that you're building the endurance necessary to keep the pace. A lady needs to be able to navigate the world even in her skirt and heels."

In no time whatsoever I was "walking". Or rather trying to run in my bondage to keep up with the unforgiving machine that was my task master. The ten laps I was asked to do kept me on my toes, literally. My toes were suffering tremendously inside the tight boots. After the first few laps, it was hard trying to concentrate on keeping the pace. The alarm only brought more urgency. I would try to hurry, but my legs could only move their burden so fast. My legs were weak, it was hard to breathe while being on the brink of heatstroke. After every lap, my corset felt tighter and longer, strangulating me little by little. My clothes felt heavier after every lap, as my sweat tricked down my body. My skirts, and specially the heavy leather petticoat, felt clingier, sticking to my legs and making every step a huge struggle.

Finally the ten laps were done. I knew had run behind the clock, the bell had been ringing. On the last lap I could hear the alarm. I awaited my reprimand and the extra laps for not walking fast enough.

"Well, you finished beyond the clock. I should give you extra laps, but since it's the first time, we will finish right now. Hopefully this session helped you find the right pace for your morning walk. There will be no concessions starting tomorrow. For now we'll give you your breakfast and then we'll go back to your deportment lessons." That little victory felt empty as I knew it would be hard to beat the clock tomorrow. I had made my utmost effort today, and had still fallen way behind. I felt set up to fail. And the next day did in fact prove to be a nightmare.

The next day, as expected, I was woken up, dressed in all of the garments that made up my uniform. Then I was taken downstairs and the cloak added on top of everything.
As I had feared, I was failing to keep up with the clock. Every fiber in my body was fighting to keep moving, to move faster. To keep putting one booted foot in front of the other. Heel to toe... Heel to toe... Just like in the deportment lessons.. Or at least as much as my leather petticoat would allow. Trying to get as much forward progress in every painful step. Resisting the burning in my confined toes. Resisting the cramping in my ankles trying to balance in the pencil thin heels. Resisting the infernal heat underneath my massive uniform. Resisting the thumping in my head. But it wasn't enough.

"You were more than ten minutes behind your target. This a process, but you need improve your rhythm. It's not easy, but with hard work you will get there. For now you will do two more laps. We will reset the chronometer to ensure you knowing if you're keeping the pace.

Starting the extra laps was hard. My legs and feet were already tired. I was sweaty all over, and could only breathe in shallow pants. My legs felt heavy, but I with much concentration I was still making progress, until the last quarter of the first lap, when things started to go bad. The thumping in my head got louder, I could hear the bell ringing, but it felt distant. It suddenly became harder and harder to breathe. I felt the high stiff collar of my dress closing around my neck, and my corset crushing my lungs as they tried to get just a bit of sure. I desperately tried to raise my hands to try to adjust my collar, but it was useless. My hands were pinned down by the weight of the cape and the cloak. I then tried to adjust my wretched corset, to pull it down and give my lungs more space to breathe. But it was impossible to grasp the edge of my corset through the tight fabric of the dress and the padded corset cover, all while my hands were encased in tight leather gloves. I couldn't even fell the edge of the corset, and even if I had been able to tug at it, it wouldn't have made a difference. As my vision began to blur my knees became weak and buckled under the weight of my limp body and my sweat drenched uniform.

I woke up in the chaise lounge in the dressing room. My vision came back slowly, my head still throbbing lightly. Miss Barbra was next to me. I had been undressed down to my corset, but I was still wearing my gloves and boots.
"Well dear, it seems you got a case of the vapours. Don't worry, soon you will be able to handle your daily walks." Miss Barbara said. "Meanwhile we'll dress you to continue with your daily deportment lessons."
"Can I keep my corset loosened like it is now?"
"Dear, we didn't loosen your corset at all..." I was shocked, since despite my headache the corset didn't feel as asphyxiating as it did when I fainted during my walk. After regaining my composure in the chaise lounge I was quickly dressed back again in my uniform. And without any concessions to the severity of my dress I was forced back into my routines of drills, walking, curtseying, and general deportment. It was one of the most excruciating days of my training so far, my body felt weak, and my head was still throbbing with a headache.

"We have no time to loose," Miss Barbara responded to any objections I could have.

Sleep could not come soon enough. However once bedtime came I was still kept in my tight corset gloves. As usual I was changed into my sleep boots and helped by the maids to the bed. Lying down felt great, but my head was still throbbing, and my legs were beginning to cramp from all the effort I had exerted on them. I tried finding a more comfortable position for my legs, but moving around with my legs stiffly encased in the sleeping boots and my torso in the vice like grip of the corset was close to impossible.

After hours of tossing and turning, I decided to try to loosen my boots, even if just a fraction of an inch. I tried to reach my boot laces, but despite the height of the boots, I could not reach them. The corset prevented me from bending at the waist. No matter how much I twisted and turned I could not reach the knot at the top of my boots. The corset was too stiff and wouldn't let me bend enough to reach my boots. In desperation, I tried to reach the lacing on the my corset behind my back. But between the voluminous nightgown and the tight leather gloves, it was hard to feel around my back for the lacings. After a few minutes I could feel my heart racing, and sweat trickling down my brow, yet I had made no progress removing my corset. I starting trying to peel off my gloves, but it was really hard to manipulate the tiny wrist buttons that kept the gloves shut. I had to take a pause to catch breath to focus on disengaging each of they tiny buttons. Finally I was able to pull off my gloves. After getting some circulation back into my hands, with my newfound dexterity I was finally able to tackle undoing the lacings of my corset. With a bit wrangling of the shoulder straps, I was finally free of its grip. Removing my corset was one of the most liberating moments. Feeling the fresh air caress my torso, covered in argy red welts left by the strict corset. But I still had work to do. Having been released of the stiff corset I was finally able to bend down and reach the lacings of the sleep boots. After some struggling with the lacings I was able to loosen the laces enough to pull them off. I didn't want completely pull off the laces so that I would be able to put the boots back on before dawn. However that was not to be. Between the exhaustion  of my daily training, the struggle of removing the contraptions I was strapped onto, and the relaxation of finally being able breath freely and wiggle my toes, I was soon deep asleep, in the deepest sleep I had since I arrived at Chadwick's Manor.

My slumber was interrupted by a loud "humph". Miss Barbara has by the side of my bed, holding my discarded corset on one hand and my sleeping boots on the other. She did not looked pleased. I had overslept.

"This will not be tolerated, we cannot slacked on your training. You must be made to understand that. But right we must get you back into your training apparatus as soon as possible. Let's strap her onto the lacing bar."

I no time I was hanging from my wrists. The lacing process went by faster. They were not gentle as they pulled on the laces. Meanwhile my toes were again squished together in the confines of my walking boots. Once fully dressed, I was led down to my morning walk. Disheartened as I was, there was no letting up. The bell rang, my toes hurt, and it was hell inside the furnace of my uniform. But not daring to further raise the ire of Miss Barbara I complied as much as possible. That wasn't enough, as I finished way past the allotted time. Dejected, I took the extra laps as prescribed. Finishing those extra laps felt like a small victory, but I was still dreading with anticipation the consequences of having tampered with my corset, boots, and gloves. Nothing was said about the matter that, although Miss Barbara was very curt when giving me directions or correcting my deportment.

That night, I was prepared for bed as usual, I was stripped down to my corset and gloves, and my regular "walking" boot were replaced with the bizarre "sleeping" boots. I was led, barely teetering on my toes, to my bed.

As the covers for my bed were pulled back, I watched in horror what awaited me. Three straps of thick white padded leather with heavy metal buckles laid on top of the mattress, at waist level. They were attached to another long strap that seemed to go under and around the mattress of my bed.

"So this is my punishment for trying to remove this wretched corset?"

"Mr. Chadwick doesn't believe in punishment, but he does believe in preventative discipline. And in that fashion we have added some attachments to your bed. You might not like them, but they will help you sleep better, since now you won't have the temptation of tampering with you figure training apparatus. You simply won't be able to reach your lacings. Honestly I have to congratulate you on your self-control, most girls try to rip off their corset on their first night." Miss Barbara explained.

"But this is barbaric!" I balked back.

"I know that your feelings have not been consulted to establish this regime. But I can assure you that your training, although exacting, is far from being unduly cruel. I will take no more back talk from you."

They kept pulling the covers back, revealing two more straps, similarly padded in white leather. These were at ankle level, it wasn't hard for me to guess their nefarious purpose. I tried to pull away but the two maids holding in balance in my sleep boots held fast.

"There you go, you won't be able to reach any of the fastenings of your corset."

"And what's the difference between 'preventative discipline' and just plain old punishment? Because being strapped down to my bed after I removed this dreadful corset definitely seems like a punishment."

"As opposed to punishment, with preventative discipline the changes to your regime are not temporary but rather permanent."

The Lady of Chadwick Manor (part 4)

... part 3
Teetering on my high heels and trying not to buckle under the weight of my clothes, I was led outside the fitting room for the first time in... I didn't even know how long I had been in there. Between the cast and the fitting of my corset, I had lost all track of time. I was helped into the dentist chair. Between my suffocating corset, tall stiff boots, and all the layers on top, it was hard for me to walk, let alone get myself into the dentist chair. I was sure I wasn't getting out of the chair without some serious help. The dentist wasn't there, but a nurse was quick to replace the wires of my braces, tightening their grip around my poor jaw. I was glad there were no new surprises at the dentist chair. I had had enough for the day.

I was hauled out of the dentist chair by two of the assistants, and led to a room, which I was told was my study. It was furnished with a small writing desk, a simple table and two chairs. It was very sparsely decorated, just like the bedroom I had slept in the first night.
 "It's time for us to start your education... We have no time to loose so we'll start today."
"Great, can you please remove this awful cape so that I'll be able to write."
"Dear, you're already done with your academic education, so you have little use for your hands. What were going to be doing is mostly comportment and behavior lessons."

That first day was spent practicing how to move like a lady, while trusses up like a turkey. There was endless walking back and forth in my study. Sitting down and standing up while encumbered by all of my hot and heavy garments. In no time I was gasping for breath and sweating profusely, all of my body heat trapped under layers upon layers of stuffy wool and leather.
"Can I at least remove my cape? It's too hot in here."
"My dear, but it's only a cape. And, it's part of your uniform, so you might as well get used to it."

And with that, I was kept in the smothering cape. But of course the cape had secrets. I did not know at that time, but the hem had pockets with small leaden weights, to ensure that not even the strongest gust of wind would reveal even an inch of my ankles. My ankles were encased in thick leather boots, but none the less whomever designed the cape had made sure it was staying put. The only time my cape was removed was for three small meals. I couldn't eat much with such a tight corset, and it was a struggle to even finish those small meals. But I wasn't allowed to stand up until I finished.

Bed time finally came, and I was exhausted. I looked forward to getting rid of the hot and heavy clothing I was wearing, and taking a full breath of air without the constriction of my corset. Fond memories of the relief of removing my tightest girdle after wearing it all Sunday came to my mind. And even my firmest girdle was nothing compared to the corset I was wearing.

 I was led back to my room, where Miss Barbara and one of the maids removed my cape. Next my dress was removed. It was a relief to have it off, but my body was still covered in many garments, including the tight corset, gloves, and boots. I was led to a stool and my boots removed. It was bliss to feel the cool air around my toes.

An ankle length sleeping gown was brought out and slipped over my head. It was heavily frilled with lace ruffles.

 "But I'm still wearing my corset."

 "Yes, my dear. But we need to make headway in your waist training." "So you expect me sleep in my corset."
"Yes, dear," Miss Barbara responded nonchalantly. "And your gloves and your special sleep boots. You need to get used to them."
"That's ... barbaric."
"No dear, it's all part of your deportment training. The sooner you get used to it the better. Lot's of girls in similar social circumstances to yours are subject to the same regime. For now let me ease your shoulder straps a couple of holes so that you can lay flat on your back. Let us help you get your sleep boots on and into bed."

Soon my toes and foot were again imprisoned in my "sleep boots." These appliances (as they couldn't really be called footwear), looked exactly like my daytime boots, but they lacked a heel.
"How can anyone walk in these boots? They don't have a heel!" I protested.

 "Exactly, these boots are not for walking, they're specifically built for sleeping. We will help get to bed."

 A fitful night of sleep followed, reminding me of the claustrophobic first nights in the cast. No matter how I twisted and turned I always felt like I was being strangulated. I was hot, my feet held in an unnatural strain, and laying flat on my back was the only position in which the corset wouldn't pinch me in awkwardly. Finally late at night, I succumbed to my exhaustion and fell asleep. But even then sleep came in fits and starts. Eventually I was woken by a gentle hand.

"How did you sleep, dear?" It was Miss Barbara.

"I didn't get much sleep. This corset is just too stiff and tight. How can anyone properly sleep in it?" "I know my dear," Miss Barbara replied in a condescending yet matter-of-fact tone. "Sleeping in a corset is a restraint we all dislike exceedingly in the beginning. But it's a necessary step to keep proper figure. Eventually nature takes its course and we get used to it, one way or another. There is no discipline without some sacrifice of freedom and comfort. And we do have to adapt our lives to the restrictions of our stays and other apparatus. However you will always look good in a corset. You will look disciplined, composed, focused, alert, and well put together, and your future husband will appreciate that. But for now, it's time to get you ready for your morning walk."

Miss Barbara led me to the dressing room, where that medieval torture device hung: the lacing bar. One of the maids was already there. Between the two, I was quickly changed into a fresh underwear and dressed in my convoluted uniform:
Long frilly bloomers
Chemise
The dreadfully constricting corset
Long woolen tights
The padded corset cover vest
Four petticoats, including the leather petticoat to restrict my gait and a billowy quilted one to give volume to the dress.
Long leather gloves
The wool coif covering my head
The high heel boots
The grey wool dress with the suffocating collar and tight sleeves
And of course the heavy cape to top it all off.

 Just recounting everything I was wearing was exhausting, but I knew that my trials for the day we just starting. After all of the hustle and bustle, I realized that the lacing of my corset had actually gone quite quickly, and I only had been hanging from the lacing bar for less than fifteen minutes. Maybe I was already getting used to the constrictions of the corset?

I was lead downstairs to garden. It was my first time downstairs since I had arrived at Chadwick Manor. I was looking forward to some fresh air. Navigating the stairs was a challenge, my legs hindered by the layers upon layers, and my feet balanced on the tiny heels. I couldn't really see the steps in front of me. The leather petticoat barely gave me enough stride to go down one step. Having my arms pinned to my side by the uniform's cape, I couldn't use them to balance. Miss Barbara held my arm to steady me on our way down the stairs.

"You're doing great dear, it will take a while to get used to navigate the stairs with your new uniform."
 I was looking forward to some fresh air, but I should have known that things were never that easy at Chadwick Manor. "
Let me put on your cloak..."
"A cloak!? In this weather!?"
"Yes dear, the cloak well ensure your privacy as you walk around the grounds of the estate, or elsewhere. You can't be too careful nowadays."

The cloak was taken out of a closet, but it was just a big bundle of black cloth. It wasn't until the garment was closed around my shoulders that I could see the shape. The cloak covered me completely, and included a very heavy hood. I was rendered shapeless by all of the folds and pleats. While the wool material was not a heavy as the cape I had underneath, the amount of fabric made it very heavy indeed.

"This will keep your demure as do your daily walks around the grounds. The hood can also be extended significantly to hide your face if we leave the grounds. But for now the hood is kept retracted with leather straps to allow you to look forward." I was led outside to courtyard in the middle of manor. The clean air was invigorating, even though the corset prevented me from taking any deep breaths.

"We'll start walking around the courtyard, since the hard surface will be easier to navigate with your heels. We'll start with 10 laps."

 Walking on the stone courtyard proved to be easier said than done. My feet were unstable in the precarious heels. The tight heavy boots provided some support to my ankles, but balancing was still hard. The courtyard was over 150 yards long. In the first lap the maid walked by my side, to make sure I did not loose my balance. I could see that she herself was struggling in her own heels. Completing the first lap was quite an accomplishment, but Miss Barbara was quick to point that I had just started. "Do not lounge around, you still have 9 more laps to go."

I could feel my pulse speed up, and a headache creeping in. My legs felt fatigued, my boots felt heavier with every step I took. I felt my body drenched in perspiration, even though the early morning air was chilly. It took my full concentration to land every step, keep the balance in my tiny heels, and manage my billowing skirts.

 "And that was the last lap. Well done." said Miss Barbara. I had lost track of how many laps I had left. It was hard to calculate how long I had been walking, but I couldn't have been less than an hour. 
"I'm exhausted. My poor feet are killing me, they feel like they're on fire. Can I please take off these wretched boots?"

"I understand, my dear, but you will have to get used to it. It's common to have girls complaining about their boots after just a few hours. Girls tend to find the boots to be very warm, even to the point of distraction. This is often because girls are less used to wearing closed or laced up shoes than male trainees. The reality is that these boots are made of heavy duty leather, reinforced with metal stays and laced up tightly to work with the special orthopedic insoles. Proper fastening of the boots is vital to support the girl's feet and ankles. The cause of that 'burning feet feeling' that you mention is simply that you're wearing boots and insoles that don't breathe, and cannot, based on the requirements of your training. And it just takes time for any child to adjust. The boots are very considerable, between the stiff outer leather, the leather lining, and the padding in between that ensures the boot fits very closely to the foot. Without air circulation around your feet, they can get hot and sweaty. That's why you're wearing a good pair of long tights. Girls would naturally chose slip on shoes with no support or orthopedic capabilities, so requiring girls to wear full leather heavy duty boots for 14 or more hours a day takes time to get used to. I'm afraid it takes most girls up to 6 months to become accustomed to and break the boots in. The orthopedic insoles can make your feet feel hot and strained but unfortunately these need to be worn with the boots in order fulfill the orthopedic requirements of molding your arches to wear high heels proudly and properly. But just like the corset, with constant wear and discipline you will get used to."

 I could feel tears flowing down my face, but I could not even wipe them with my hands trapped underneath my monstrous uniform. Needless to say I could neither remove my boots on my own. 

"But this was a great start, tomorrow we'll start timing your laps to make sure you slack off. For now let's go back upstairs, to start your comportment lessons for today."

part 5