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“Angels and Demons”
The rise and fall of Victoria’s Secret
So, where to begin with this? I watched all three episodes last week and afterwards, I very much felt as if I needed a very hot scalding shower.
Because it made me feel dirty. It made me feel sick. It made feel disgust.
It didn’t start out that way, though.
I’m of the generation that can remember a time when the interior of Victoria’s Secret harkened to a genteel Victorian type atmosphere: velvet settees, fringed lampshades and very fine French silk fabric. I adored it, then.
Later though…as the store morphed into a hyper sexualized version of its former self, and the “Victoria’s Secret Angels” were introduced, it all became increasingly bizarre in a very surreal way to me. I still received the catalogues and yes, like most other women, I was always a sucker for the cleverly embedded coupon of “Bring to store and receive a free panty” TOO many times. And, even on a few occasions, I bought the ludicrous bras as well.
You know, the “turbo” charged ones, designed to uplift, boost, pad and otherwise create the appearance of breasts that were not actually “real.”
So, as a former “fan” I feel that I can now criticize both the store and even my own self for complacently “buying into” the narrative of it all. Even though this…
