Picture a Dominatrix in full regalia. Right now. Close your eyes and picture her. What is she wearing? For someone who is supposed to embody the ideal off the strong, superior female, her wardrobe is somewhat limited.

I know that this is something I’ve addressed before, but I still have questions about what is widely considered to be a Domme’s traditional attire. I understand some of the practical and aesthetic aspects that make the image appealing: A bit of black leather, body armour and the occasional mask across the eyes immediately cast the mind back to comic book villainesses and tough, motorcycle-straddling B-movie assassins; The high heels, although uncomfortable and difficult to run about in, make us as tall as our male counterparts, and double as pretty effective weapons when coupled with a swift kick or stamp; We are sinuous and serpentine in rubber and our garments are cut close to the skin for ease of movement. In our uniform, we glide through the patriarchy, smacking down our oppressors with whips, crops, canes and whatever else we happen to have with us.

But then we stop, slightly doubled over… It’s the corset! Oh dear! The invincible woman has been thwarted by her corset! Her lung capacity is limited, so breathing has become rather difficult, and her intestines feel as though they’ve been fed into a mangle. Her ribcage is crushed into the shape of a Champagne glass and she doesn’t like to think where her vital organs have gone.

However, the corset remains one of the must-have garments for a Domme. Wander into any FemDom event and nearly every woman is wearing one. For years, it has been the incongruous symbol of the Dominatrix.

Hypocrite that I am, I have several corsets and adore them. Yet they hurt. They’re uncomfortable. They’re bad for us.

What is it that makes society (and me) equate female dominance with corsettage? Where did this come from? Of course, compressing the waist makes the figure more stereotypically feminine, and therefore more appealing to men, but is our strength as dominant women measured only by a man’s approval? Is our authority not undermined if we suffer more for the entertainment of our masochistic menfolk than they do? Should our highest aspiration simply be the power to squash bits of our bodies into different shapes for someone else’s benefit?

Well,  in 1967 it was. Check out this advert from GypsyCreams.org that proves that “woman power” is the power to “generate a little excitement” around you by flattening your belly with a tight girdle. Lovely. Click here to view in full-size.