Okay gang, I have one hour and thirty seven minutes before I have to be down in the little village of Popotla to wait for the fishermen to come in. Not, sadly, because I’m waiting for a sailor, but the fishing boats come in at noon and if I’m not there to fight tooth and nail with these surprisingly tough little Mexican grandmothers (I don’t know how you say “throw elbows” in Spanish, but I sure bet they do!) at the exact minute they splosh today’s catch on their ramshackle folding table, then the seagulls will get my dinner and frankly, I cannot live with that.

As promised, here is a belated corset post with recommendations.

Please note I don’t actually own any of these corsets, although I wish I did. I judged them based on apparent quality of construction, variety of product (as in: do they offer longline/underbust/cotton/bridal/whatever corsets) and how much the site annoyed me.

My favorite by far is Corsets-UK.com

Although they don’t offer as much as I’d like to see in the way of neutral colors, they’ve got an impressive selection of underbust, sweetheart and longline corsets suitable for almost all your waist-cinching occasions.

By the way, if you’ve got a natural waist larger that 43″, you’re still probably safe going with a corset built for a smaller waist since fat is more malleable than bone. Just don’t go passing yourself out or doing anything dumb.

OH! And they’re doing a buy-two-get-one-free promotion on almost all corsets, so if you and some friends (I’m thinking bridesmaids) want to go in on a group order together, this might be the time to do it.

This long line underbust corset is for waist training. Personally, I don’t think waist training is a good idea because that stuff can mess with your ribs and lungs and other important parts of your body that should probably not be jostled around for the sake of a smaller waist. Still, there’s no harm in popping one on for a few hours if you’ve got a special event coming up, or if you need the extra control 24 steel bones provide.

If you want to do an overbust corset and still be responsible WRT the chestular situation (no Platter O’ Boobs/Dish of Desperation) a deep sweetheart is the way to go. That way you can maneuver the gals to their upright and locked position without spilling over into “I couldn’t get a date in high school so please approve of me now” territory. No one looks good in that territory.

There are TONS more corsets from the ridiculous (camouflage corset anyone?) to the sublime, but I’ve got to go throwdown with the old ladies over the best salmon so I’ll leave you to sort it out yourself. Good luck!

A corset is a lot like a handgun: Dangerous, powerful and ideally concealed in public spaces.

Unfortunately, you don’t need to be trained or certified before the state says it’s okay to have a corset.

Corsets are not Costume.

I mean, they CAN be, but you don’t need me or anyone else to tell you how to create that awful, desperate Platter O’ Boobs effect. So, just for the sake of my head not splitting in half with two even more judgmental pieholes growing in its place, let’s just forget corsets as costumery and focus on them as a piece of specialty shapewear.

For the purpose of this article, I’m going to define a corset as a piece of boned lingerie with laces that can be used to minimize the waist by at least 3″. I say that because there are a lot of cinchers, high-waisted girdles and other usually latex or rubber-intensive shapers that call themselves corsets.

Of course, if I learned anything from living in the DC metro area during the Clinton years, there’s boning and then there’s boning. A good corset has steel boning or something with the equivalent flexibility and control. Flimsy little plastic or fabric “bones” are less than useless, because not only do they NOT work most of the time, they’re also likely to roll on you (more on that later).

The two main mistakes I see big girls in corsets make (aside from the Platter O’Boobs) are wearing corsets that are the wrong shape for their body/the outfit and lacing the corset too tightly.

If you are very large-busted or tend towards the floppy, you want a corset that ends under the bust. Cleverly known as underbust corsets, they allow you to wear your own bra and avoid the POB look. They’re also my corset of choice because overbust corsets can ruin the side profile by making less-than-ginormous funbags look flat.

You should also consider the length of your torso.

I’ve got a long waist and a standard corset is usually too short for me, which leads to an incredibly alluring reverse muffin top where all the fat sploodges out the bottom. I usually fix that by wearing some manner of high-impact girdle so my hips and gut don’t burst forth like the mighty kraken, hellbent on destroying all in its path, or at least the lines of my outfit which –let’s face it– is more important.

A longline corset is the way to go if you want your lower stomach and hips to get some smoothing action as well.

They’re a bit more difficult to maneuver in and generally a little more expensive, but if you’ve laced yourself properly they’re no big deal.

If you’re quite short-waisted, a standard-length corset will probably work as a longline and if you want something for your waist only, look for a lace-up cincher instead of a corset.

Now the lacing.

It is so easy, not to mention tempting, to go overboard with the lacing.

But friends, the fat has got to go somewhere and when you over-lace not only does it look weird, disproportionate and fetishistic, you are almost guaranteed a nice bulging set of backfat puppies popping out of the top and bottom of your corset. Fabulous if you’re a dowager empress, not so great for the rest of us. Keep the laces at the top and bottom of your corset nice and open, focusing on creating a gently exaggerate curve, not overzealous Gibson Girl Gone Wild.

Monday I’ll have a selection of corsets I recommend as well as answering a few more questions about this seemingly most difficult piece of underwear. Until then I am being forcefully beckoned to Plumcake Central Command (my hammock) for an important meeting (a nap followed by a gin and tonic) before tonight’s busy schedule of…probably nothing.

Yesterday we poked some gentle fun at budding hoochie conglomerate Eddy and Bri and used them as an example of a small fashion company geared towards a specific niche market.

I was actually surprised to see several folks defend the bottom two dresses, because I cannot conceive of any situation ever where a grown woman with a job that doesn’t involve picking up dollar bills with body parts other than her hands would think “Yes, what I clearly need is a ruched spandex and polyester tube dress that zips entirely  down the front with one tug.” Whither the dignity, y’all?

Anyhoodle, as I mentioned yesterday, it’s important not to throw the baby out with the bathtub gin, because little websites can provide big rewards if you can be bothered to check them regularly.

Case in point is Domino Dollhouse.

Even though I’m not interested in about 85% of what they make, these gals are near and dear to the place medical science says my heart should be and they’re on my “To Be Checked Regularly” list of plus size websites.

Their campy vintage-flavored offerings remind me of what Torrid used to sell six years ago when they had essentially three categories: Rockabilly, Punk and Other.

Basically you’re getting a lot of 1950′s stuff with some 1940′s by way of the 80′s (which, as Karen Walker so accurately said were “Just the 40′s with coke.”) with a smattering of young hipster paraphernalia.

I have a well-documented weak spot for a good midcentury dress, even better if it’s got a tiny twang of Grand Ole Opry and although most of  the stand-out pieces as styled still err a little heavily on the side of Costume not Fashion, thus making them a wee bit unsophisticated for my current look,  there are gems to be found for the girl who is willing to dig.

Even some of the costume-y dresses are awfully tempting and I have to warn my 32 year-old self away from them, reminding myself they are cutesy beyond all redemption and will never be Capital F Fashion no matter how hard I style them (I’d totally go for them were I ten years younger and could still play the naif card).

Is anyone else reminded of the Hefty Hideaway commercial from the original Hairspray movie? I’m not saying that like it’s a bad thing. Lord knows the early works of Miss John Waters influenced me as much as the later works of Yves Saint Laurent, and seriously, there’s always been a not-so-secret part of me that wants to dress like a John Waters heroine.

Still, for every dozen dresses that make you look like the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade’s salute to history’s greatest picnic foods, there’s a jewel like this, the Ava Adorable dress (currently sold out, but was available when I posted about it on the MftBG facebook page).

This is a great dress.

I bought it to wear for New Year’s Eve specifically, which didn’t technically (by which I mean “even remotely”) because that’s the day I emigrated and I spent from 8 o’clock onward studiously examining my eyelids from the inside.

It’s a perfect party dress, especially for girls who don’t like to be too revealing, plus it fits nicely in that little cubbyhole for things like symphonies in the park or any sort of evening event, especially outside, where you want the feel of a picnic dress, but still subtly remind everyone about how much more sophisticated, elegant and all around better dressed than they are.

There’s a matching fabric belt which I’d probably wear it for when I wanted that extra bit of early Givenchy feel, but for contemporary styling I replaced it with a thin, slightly rock and roll Diane Von Furstenburg double wrap natural python belt in a subtle animal print.

Speaking of animals (though not of subtlety) I also brought home this little creature from Domino Dollhouse’s last sale:

Isn’t he divine?

I know a giant alligator isn’t everyone’s idea of a good accessory but I have a great and glorious love for almost all things crocodiliad, and especially this ring, which garners compliments everywhere I go AND looks as if it came from Madame Medusa’s private jewelry collection, always a plus in my book.

A word of caution:

Domino Dollhouse has several pieces that go in and out of stock with some regularity. That means if you don’t see the watermelon dress, the Ava Adorable or whatever strikes your fancy right that minute, it doesn’t mean they’ll never have it again. At the same time, if you see something you love, I wouldn’t suggest waiting for it because if it goes out of stock –and it might, quickly– there’s no telling how long it’ll be before you have the chance to order again.

I’ll be honest. I’ve been slow to warm to Christmas.

When I was a kid, my brother and I made the yuletide bright mostly by waiting in an agreed-upon supermarket parking lot halfway between our parents respective evil lairs and being caught in the traditional children-of-bitter-divorce crossfire. Then later there would be cookies.

No one asked what we wanted for Christmas and as an adult, Christmas presents were firmly tucked into the For The Children nook of holiday cheer.

This year is different, and I discovered this year is different because Hot Latin Boy –who is a total curve-ruining overachiever– casually mentioned about all the millions of manhours he’s putting into my present, which I’m 99% positive is a “secret garden” full of my favorite plants and flowers from Texas and Virginia so I don’t feel homesick at Villa Plumcake.

That’s great and all, but it doesn’t exactly cast a golden luster on my gift to him, a white ceramic pineapple (a nod to an inside joke) that I’m not even going to giftwrap, lest it alert the border patrol.

It DID get me thinking what grand gift I really would like though, and for the first time in years, I’ve actually got one in mind.

Of course there’s the old standby:

(That, my friends, is the making of one FILTHY Venn Diagram)

but in the off chance Gaspar, Balthazar and Melchior DON’T manage to bring me Zizou, Xabi and Mou (I’m still going to wax, just in case) what I want more than anything in the whole wide world is a plaza-worn Traje de Luces.

Say what you will about bullfighting –despite Villa Plumcake being tantalizingly close to the Plaza Monumental, I’ve never brought myself to see a corrida the highly-embellished “suit of lights” is the pinnacle of beauty in a male couture garment.

(*snerk*)

And of course the bodies in them aren’t terrible either.

It occurs to me my burning desire for a traje marks a departure from buying clothes and accessories to collecting them. A traje is a standalone work of art and I would display it as such.

Of course I have a lot of my shoes, scarves and jewelry on display, but I also wear them. I’d never wear a traje.

Understandably, trajes are thousands of dollars new, and used ones fetch even higher prices if worn in the ring by a famous torero like Manolete, the James Dean of bullfighting.

I still don’t know if I’ll ever see a correo (I’ve heard they have no-kill ones, and I’d jump at the chance for that) or whether I’ll just stick with my Hemingway and Almodovar, but I’ve been pretty damn good this year and I sure would like to find a traje under my tree…you know, if Zizou and the boys don’t fit.

Happy Monday y’all!

It’s Día de la Revolución (observed) here in Mexico, and I am fixin’ to beat a hasty retreat back stateside for a limited five week engagement wherein I’ve got to pack all my worldly belongings, sell the Cadillac (insert sad trombone here, but low Caddy + potholes the size of a Benelux nation = heartache) and relocate to Villa Plumcake full time.

I know you all are waiting with bated breath to find out what happened with Hot Latin Boy’s mama.

Well, first of all, I wore heels. A pair of cerulean Dusicas not entirely dissimilar to these:

Then I was incredibly inspired by a picture of autumn leaves (what, you think it’s all archival Dior? Wrong!)  and decided to build my outfit from there.

I plucked out a Spense Woman sheath dress with some origami detail at the neck in a spectacular tomato red, a bit like this one from Avenue:

(sans the terrible shooties and busted fishnets, of course)

Then I added a leaf green shawl to cover up the odious cap sleeves and show Mama I was a respectful girl who wasn’t about to bare arms at our first meeting. I picked mine up from my favorite Oaxacan weaver’s stall (next to the revolutionist coffee shop) but it’s not too different from this, in case you don’t have a Zapotec family handy.

I tied it loosely behind my back to create a sort of soft shrug.

This is admittedly a little tricky because either you (by which I mean “me”) tie it too tight and then you look amazing but have the range of motion of an extremely chic tyrannosaurus rex or it’s too loose and it just flops all over the damn place doing no good for anyone.

Of course I had to bring the Birkin so I tied my lucky orange and red Hermes scarf tied as a sash around my waist for definition and to incorporate the orange of the Birkin into the whole look of the outfit.

I love the right orange and red together and I wonder why people don’t do it more often.

It’s infinitely easier to do than red and pink and looks so much fresher than *yawn* red and black, plus it’s a good gateway color to using red and green together without looking like you’re getting ready to deck the halls.

And as for mama…I’m pretty sure she loved me. She started to cry –not for the first time that day, apparently– and in a remarkable feat of self-control waited easily a minute to a minute and a half to ask me for grandchildren.

Do I regret wearing heels?

Not at all.

I joked with her about how I met her son, and how when I first set eyes on him I felt like I kept growing and growing taller and taller –he is Not Tall– and was afraid he wouldn’t like me because I was this enormous anglo giantess. She laughed, put her hand on her heart and said it doesn’t matter how tall I am, it’s the size of my heart and there are no heels in the world that could change the size of that.

Awww. If she only knew.

Oof, it’s Friday, and yet somehow it just feels like Thursday-and-a-half.

This might be because the dog from the house east of me was serenading the moon into the wee hours, or it could be that the western neighbor’s toddler recently discovered the therapeutic benefits of primal screaming and has dedicated his young life to the perfection of same.

Either way, I need some sparklies to cheer me up, so today’s ring feature comes not a moment too soon.

To conclude our foray into Big Jewelry I’ve picked out ten fun pieces of hand candy, just click on the pictures for linkylinks.

I just love a good cocktail ring –a cocktail ring a large bauble worn to look elegant while one gesticulates, glass in hand, at cocktail parties– and cocktail rings love me.

I mean, it’s pretty much my two favorite things –booze and jewelry– combined in  one delicious art form, with the bonus of being easily converted into a weapon in case someone needs to be corrected of wrong-thinking ideas.

There aren’t very many dos and don’ts about how to wear a ring (other than one ring per hand, not counting a wedding band) so I thought I’d just chat a little bit about costume jewelry in general.

There are essentially two schools of thought when it comes to costume jewelry in general and rings in particular: Those folks who want their gems to look like fine jewelry and those who don’t.

I can understand both sides.

Jewelry is a status symbol and while it’s a mark of status to own some serious mined gems, I think it’s infinitely more chic to wear high-end costume jewelry (I’m not talking Claire’s here) either alone or with your fine pieces that almost mocks fine jewelry because you’re secure enough in yourself (and possibly your vaults) to show you don’t care whether “they” believe it’s “real” or not.

Oh, and may I please express my disdain for the phrase “real jewelry”?

As a collector of vintage and antiquarian jewelry, both costume and fine, the line dividing the two is often blurred.

Take, for example, the Napoleonic Cut Steel Tiara, one of the literal crown jewels of Sweden.

Given to Queen Hortense by her mother, Napoleon’s beloved (and then not-so-beloved) Empress Josephine, there are no gems to be found anywhere on the tiara.

It’s made only of brass and steel but are you going to be the one to tell two hundred and fifty years of Swedish royalty it’s not “real jewelry” because there are no diamonds or precious metal?

Nope, me either.

My people have not  fared well historically against the vikings and I’m not enthusiastic about my chances to buck the trend.

Anyhoodle.

I’ve been fortunate in that my father was a very well-regarded jeweler who specialized in magnificent baubles, my grandmother’s collection of gems would make Liz Taylor sit up and take notice (though probably not now) and I have personally had the (mis)fortune to date many many men with more money than sense.

I’m pretty well-stocked for fine jewelry, so I spend my time on novel designs, particularly figural rings.

Funny story:

Yesterday while I was poking through HSN.com for the bracelet recommendations I saw Jean Dousset actually had a line for their simulated diamond line Absolute.

Once upon a time, I received a honking big canary diamond ring from Jean Dousset –well techincally it was BY Jean Dousset and FROM someone I later discovered had more wives than I find personally ideal, i.e., one– so I clicked through and saw a ring that was shockingly similar to mine.

The mind reeled.

Frankly I would’ve rather had the $90 ring and gotten the difference in cash.

Diamonds may be a girl’s best friend but a woman needs liquidity.

Which brings me to the subject of engagement rings: I kind of think they’re dumb.

Well, I don’t really think they’re dumb, but I’ve seen so many people go into debt to buy the biggest diamond their credit rating will allow and THAT’S dumb. I mean, a big fancy ring is nice but I can’t help but think marrying someone who doesn’t buy stuff they can’t afford is much, much nicer.

Okay enough waxing stentorian about costume jewelry, let’s talk guidelines:

Bracelets with Rings:

Fun if you’re going for Overdone On Purpose, otherwise a risky proposition.

If you want to do Overdone on Purpose, try to consider the bracelet and ring as one look. I’ve often wrapped a rope of pearls halfway up my arm and added an enormous pearl and gold cocktail ring to complete the look.

Brooches as Rings:

Sometimes I inherit brooches that have broken pins not worth repairing and/or are too small to wear in the traditional brooch style or elsewhere on my person, so I’ll glue them on to a ring blank.
Viola, fabulous cocktail ring.

You can do the same thing with broken old earrings.

Look in the mirror, are you Joe Pesci?

If yes, how shocked were you when Marisa Tomei won the Oscar? If no, take off the pinky ring.

Look in the mirror again, are you Anthony Bourdain?

If no, take off the thumb ring. If yes, take off the thumb ring anyway, it looks stupid on you too and you’re too old for that nonsense. If you’re not Lou Reed by now you’re never going to be. Sorry.

Buy Quality.

Finally, remember there is costume jewelry and then there is costume jewelry.

Don’t buy the wrong kind.

You want to look for prong-set stones, attention to detail and everything else you’d want in a piece of fine jewelry. In fact, in most of the pieces I buy today, the process of making the ring is the same, only the materials are different. You’ll also pay accordingly.

I’ve kept all but one of these rings under $100, a nice cocktail ring can easily set you back a few hundred dollars but the difference in quality will be visible.

Remember, style icons from Coco Chanel to Jackie Kennedy wore costume jewelry as part of their signature looks and looked amazing doing it. You can bet they didn’t get their stuff from Claire’s.

Okay lambkins that’s all I’ve got for jewelry for a while, if you have specific questions I didn’t answer, let me know, otherwise, I hope you enjoyed it!

Hello my little buttermilk biscuits, how’s every little thing?

have I responded to everyone’s questions from the Monday Post? If not, ask again and I’ll do my best to get to it today.

Now back to the second-to-last installation of the statement jewelry series: Bracelets.

As far as jewelry wickets go, bracelets are among the stickiest.

Still, I’ve picked out ten Plumcake-approved baubles from punk to prissy all advertised to fit a larger wrist and pictured here for your delectation and delight.

Just click the photos for shopping links.

First we’ve got to find one that fits, which requires an act of Congress, THEN we’ve got to make sure it doesn’t give us stump-arm, which requires an act of God. You know what I’m talking about when I say stump-arm right?

It’s the way a bad bracelet visually shortens your arms until you look like the star in an all-Tyrannosaurus Rex production of Auntie Mame. Sure, it makes a statement, but “transvestite thunder lizard” probably isn’t the direction we want to go quite yet.

I’ve only started wearing bracelets within the past few months. Historically I’d avoided them because:

a) It was difficult to find arm candy that was big enough to circumnavigate my 7.75″ wrist (not to mention slide over my giant mitts, made only from the finest of Virginia hams)

b) I don’t really like most stretch bracelets and non-stretch ones bothered me while I earned my crust of bread at the newspaper

c) My torso is long so it gives the appearance of having short arms. See stump-arm and drag queen dinosaur reference above

But somehow the stars aligned to make me A few months ago Hot Latin Boy bestowed unto me a custom parure of  a necklace, earrings and bracelet he designed and commissioned just for yours truly.

Well I couldn’t NOT wear the bracelet so I slipped it over my wrist and was surprised by how pretty it looked with my white dress and tan (okay, you know what, I can hear you laughing and you all can just quit it right now, I totally had a tan. I was practically bronze, assuming the word bronze means “slightly darker than alabaster”) skin.

A month or so later I came into possession of a ridiculous stack of unadorned silver bangles that fit me perfectly and now I wear them at least once a week.

Six things to keep in mind for wearing bracelets:

Think about movement.

The key to wearing statement bracelets is to make sure they’re not too tight, and have a little movement on the arm.

It’s strange, but one big thick bangle or cuff looks clunkier than that same bangle plus another slightly more delicate piece.

Don’t believe me? Go try it.

Getting a bracelet with dangling ornamentation is a fantastic way to get movement without bulk. I’m a huge fan.

Be careful with cuffs. I’ve got to be honest, I don’t just love big cuffs on big girls.

I love big cuffs in and of themselves, I even have a gorgeous 1970′s Pierre Cardin figural rams head cuff that probably weighs a pound and a half, but it’s very hit and miss as to when and how successfully I can wear it. The downside is, of course, that cuffs are the bracelets more likely to actually FIT a larger wrist.

If you want to do the cuff thing, look for something that tapers, the ones that are uniformly thick can look uniformly clunky. Not a fan.

Charm bracelets, when done right, are fantastic on a big girl.

The key is to keep from being cutesy.

Way back in the misty days of yore, from about the 1930′s to the 1960′s it wasn’t at all unusual for a woman to collect tiny little charms in the shape of shields as souvenirs from the places she’d visited.

They’re usually silver with an enameled crest with the place name and some local flora, fauna or site.

I have a travel bracelet full of little travel shield charms –although admittedly I buy them on eBay or Ruby Lane after I get back– to mark my favorite towns and cities.

I also get antique silver three-dimensional charms of every mode of transportation I’ve used.

Not only is a great piece of jewelry, it’s an heirloom in the making and a conversation piece.

You can point to the little horse and carriage and tell the grandkids about the time you took a surrey ride around Ensenada with a cute Mexican fella (extra bonus points if they’re HIS grandkids too) or the time you went to Wales on a ferry and had to throw yourself on the mercy of a stranger, which is how you spent the night in a place called “The Spider Cottage”.

Bangles: More is (sometimes) more. Up to a point that is, but usually five coordinating bangles are better than one and ten are better than five.

You’re generally safe taking a stack of bracelets 1/3rd of the way up your forearm.

Up to a half is doable with big stacks of chunky bracelets, but anything longer than that is seriously Advanced Fashion, so think it through.

Think about sleeve length. Easy rule of thumb:You want at least as much bare arm as you have bracelet-covered arm. If you are wearing bracelets that climb 5″ up the wrist, your sleeve should end no lower than five inches from the top of your northernmost bracelet.

Think outside the bracelet box. I’ve used bow ties, long necklaces, dog collars with vintage earrings attached, silk scarves, and just bits of ribbon onto which I’ve pinned a large antique brooch or fur clip.

Well, that’s all I’ve got for today.  Stay tuned tomorrow for rings and various other ornamentation and if you have something to say, put it in the comments!