Mary Makofske “Second Skin”
I grew up in an era when teenage girls were expected to wear girdles. Not only the pudgy ones, like me, but even the athletic girls with spectacular figures. In spite of the pushback from some quarters, such as my eccentric gym teacher who one day paced before us ranting about the physical damage girdles could do us, most of us yielded to the pressure (societal and literal). In Washington, D.C., where I grew up, wearing a girdle in the summer was sheer torture. Thank goodness, attitudes changed, as did girdles, becoming more breathable and endurable for women who still felt compelled to wear them.
The germ of this story came from a conversation with a volunteer fireman who had seen a house fire victim whose girdle had melted on her. When I started the draft that eventually became “Second Skin,” I was writing a longer, third person story about a woman who routinely wore a girdle from pubescence to death. While looking over old magazine ads, I discovered the ad lines quoted in the story. “This “girdle poetry” inspired me to write a shorter story from the girdle’s perspective. The result was a lighter tone and a “character” I never expected to emerge.
The germ of this story came from a conversation with a volunteer fireman who had seen a house fire victim whose girdle had melted on her. When I started the draft that eventually became “Second Skin,” I was writing a longer, third person story about a woman who routinely wore a girdle from pubescence to death. While looking over old magazine ads, I discovered the ad lines quoted in the story. “This “girdle poetry” inspired me to write a shorter story from the girdle’s perspective. The result was a lighter tone and a “character” I never expected to emerge.