Corset Revival by Chloë Haywood Chloe Haywood London

Second Skin – Ornamental Armour

Beauty operates here as a protective strategy: an armour constructed to mask
physical and psychological discomfort while allowing the body to remain visible.
What appears decorative is, in fact, necessary — an act of self-defence shaped by
hormonal change, resilience, and lived female experience.
When the corset arrived in the post, I’ll admit I felt disappointed. I had imagined something
more ‘end of life’, but instead it was a new-looking red and black, lacy, overtly ‘sexy’ corset.
Trying it on my adjustable mannequin proved unexpectedly difficult. With laces on both
sides, there was a lot of pulling and loosening before it would sit properly, even on the
smallest setting. The physical effort, and the frustration of making it fit, struck a chord.
Now in my fifties, menopause has brought subtle bodily changes that I’m still negotiating. I
often reach for jeans and jumpers that conceal rather than reveal, choosing comfort and
camouflage over the squeeze of clothes I once wore without hesitation. It made me think
about how much women mask. Clothing can distract the eye from areas we’d rather hide —
something my mother taught me early on.
But a corset is different. It is a statement. It draws attention to the body while holding it in,
offering a false sense of security. It changes how you stand, how you sit. It can give
confidence, even as it constrains.
Since starting HRT, I’ve felt a welcome return to myself, but the small, persistent insecurities
of ageing don’t disappear. Many women my age quietly struggle with confidence while still
being expected to hold everything together — washing, meals, appointments — mentally ‘on
it’ at all times. Notifications ping, deadlines stack up, and each day begins with a mental
briefing. It’s exhausting. And yet society still expects women to look amazing every day. I
want to — but it takes effort.
This idea of a woman’s ‘mask’ or ‘armour’ began to form alongside my wider practice. I run a
small creative business in Somerset, upcycling waste materials into fashion and home
accessories. I love colour and shine, but I also hate waste. When I started using Evorel HRT
patches, I became increasingly uncomfortable with throwing away the shiny silver backing
paper. I discovered they’re made from PET plastic — a material that can take hundreds of
years to break down, fragmenting into microplastics. Horrifying. So instead of binning it, I
collected it.
Those discarded backings became the raw material for this piece. I experimented with
stapling and sewing them into sculptural forms, eventually constructing a corset that
resembles armour. The process was technically challenging: pieces slipped, seams curved
unexpectedly, and the eyelets required improvisation using a soldering iron. Imperfection
became part of the language, giving the surface a mechanical, metallic quality.
To fix the logo, I used silver clay studs made by my mother before she died — a quiet way of
carrying her into the work.
limitation is transformed into an emblem of empowerment and renewal, a testament to
the quiet strength found in transformation, one knot at a time.