It's that time of the year again! When the snow falls, the hoodies are on, and the Ben & Jerry chocolate tub is being thawed out on the living room table. You're comfortably snuggling on your couch in front of the large high definition television, which in an hour's time will make you want to buy a black and white 1950's TV set so you wouldn't have to look at the perfect ass and flawless complexion of these women. Yes, that's right, welcome to the Victoria's Secret Fashion Show.
Let's get to it:
I am undoubtedly obsessed with Victoria's Secret and all its glory. Even during the Gisele Bundchen times, I was a kid envying the lives of these impossibly sexy women. Years later, I still watch every commercial, every show, and every interview of VS. It's like joining a cult, really. But instead of surrounding yourself with candles and salt, you surround yourself with overpriced thongs and spritzes of their Bombshell fragrance.
Watching the VS fashion show is like walking inside a candy store when you have no money. Like waking up late on a beautiful Sunday afternoon and realizing you have an assignment due the next day. Like peeing on a pregnancy stick and waiting for the results. It's a mix of emotions that's ineffable for men but extremely understandable for women. Including you. Yes I saw you bury yourself in a bowl of low fat strawberry ice cream during the Parisian Nights section.
I watch the show because I love seeing beautiful women. I respect and adore women who are gorgeous, confident, bubbly, and sexy. These women represent everything I want to be, and everything I can't. Their bodies are the epitome of perfection. Ranging from the toned to the svelte, these women have flawless skin with no stretch marks and scars in sight. Their voluptuous boobs and butts defy the laws of thinness because what the hell are those mounds of fat doing on your chest when you are literally a stick. This is witchraft, I tells ya!
Their noses would put Korean plastic surgeons to shame, their eyes incredibly lively, and their lips would make Kim Kardashian get another injection. Their teeth are white, shiny, and the envy of 9 out of 10 dentists. Their hair smooth as a jungle river and shinier than the Eiffel Tower on New Year's Eve.
These women seem impossible. They're like Barbies. They walk around showing off not only the incredible lingerie but what 99% of women cannot have. Everyone can be toned if they work out hard enough, but not everyone can have perfect hair, or a tall nose, or a symmetrical face, or flawless skin. Their combined perfection is unattainable, and that's what pulls me to watch their show.
Even though I metaphorically cry into a bucket every time Doutzen Kroes shows up on the screen, I still turn up the volume and never look away from the television. Watching the VS fashion show is an hour of "what if's". What if I was that perfect? I'd get the man of my dreams, I wont cry when I look in the mirror, I'd get out of speeding tickets, you know, all the perks that come with looking like Adriana Lima. I like thinking about what it would be like for me if I was in their body, and what it must be like to be the standard of perfection for women everywhere.
Of course after the show, my self esteem would be prancing around somewhere in Montenegro and I would be left empty, but it's all good. Because that one hour was a little break from who I am, and for a short while, I lived life as them. I could imagine myself as Candice Swanepoel, walking down a busy street, holding a Starbucks in hand, looking as stunning as ever.
It's also a time for me to reflect on all my imperfections and what I could do to improve them. I'm thinking of being a little more toned to have the legs of Lindsay Ellingson, so maybe I'll hit the gym next year. Solely crying over the show isn't going to do any good, so I find it necessary to actually work to look sexy as fuck. Maybe I'll have a loop of all the VS fashion shows from 1995 up to today. Must. Not. Have. These. Chicken. Legs.
I'm not going to rant about how this unattainable beauty standard is dangerous for women everywhere and they should put trannies/curvier women/POC on the runway and all that jazz because honestly, you know how I feel about this from my hot topic article and my web finds article. So I don't care if they're all too skinny or that the majority of them are Caucasian because VS doesn't care about equality and what you think. They do what sells. Does Candice Swanepoel sell? Damn straight. So until the day you could change society to buy lingerie from an obese woman with warts on her back, then you better expect that VS keep their models lookin' fly.
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