I am not the target audience you're looking for

Victoria’s Secret, I don’t understand your fashion shows.

Let’s be frank, they’re not for me.  I understand that.  I’m not a straight male with supermodel threesome dreams so clearly I’m not the target audience for the shows.  However, I would be remiss if I didn’t point out that targeting the straight male 18 to 65 demographic with your runway show when it’s their wives and girlfriends who actually fund your conglomerate by buying your ridiculously overpriced boob slings is narrow of sight.  


Fine, the point is FANTASY. I get it.  I also own more than one item of Victoria’s Secret “clothing” so I am slightly hypocritical when I call your things “ridiculously overpriced boob slings” and though, in fact, they are both ridiculous and overpriced they are also kind of awesome sometimes.  Full disclosure: I am sometimes a hypocrite.  All our cards are on the table now.  I own some of your things and indeed you are counting on my money though you are not targeting me with your fashion show because of FANTASY.  We are speaking the same language.  

So then let’s talk FANTASY.  It has to be capitalized because, like Kanye on a rant, your fashion shows are bold-faced and hard to ignore.  They demand attention.  FANTASY!  

Never in my wildest FANTASY have I been clad in a tartan-winged ensemble that includes both faux-hair braids and feathers in the head-to-toe sweep of the wings as well as a buckle-embellished half-jacket (meaning one sleeve, not midriff-grazing) and a belted split-mini-kilt over exposed panties while romancing, say, Tom Hardy.  Here is my brief envisioning of how such a scenario would go:

Me:  Tommy.  *purr*  You are delicious.  You look good enough to eat.
Tom:  You look insane.  Did you escape from a Scottish Highlands Avian Asylum?  Are you late for your call to the set of Angry Birds: the Movie maybe?  I can’t even figure out what you actually look like behind all the things.
Me:  I look ready.  For sex.  With you.  Take me.
Tom:  My dick is confused and I am busy.  No.

Okay, fine, liberties have been taken.  The above scenario is assuming I can afford a Victoria’s Secret Tartan-Wing Half-Jacket Ensemble of Sexy Doom and then get into it without assistance AND THEN meet Tom in a way that makes it seem sort of natural that I’m wearing said ensemble.  But remember: FANTASY.  Also he’d probably just call security.  So the conversation is definitely an extrapolation.  Still… FANTASY.

My point is that my fantasies do not ever include actual tangible emoticons hovering around my head winking and giving googly-eyes while I wear text-themed lingerie.  Nor do they include boots that reach my upper thighs and are printed like a bad Led Zeppelin trip.  Nor do they include Dick Van Dyke’s “Let’s Go Fly a Kite” number from Mary Poppins as recreated in winged-lingerie form.

My fantasies include a lot of Aston Martin rides in Emma Peel outfits with George Eads, Robert Downey Jr. and Tom Hardy alternating driving so the others can… you know.  Anyway, wings are totally unnecessary and also don’t fit in the car.

I guess it’s not my FANTASY you’re concerned with, though, is it, Victoria’s Secret?  It’s the ever-elusive and seemingly-mad male FANTASY.  Well I’m not a man so I will have to take a poll.  Men, do you dream exclusively of birds?  Or angels who embody emoji?  Do you prefer very complicated belted ensembles that take all the spontaneity out of sex?  Is a half-hour disrobing process actually key to your FANTASY?  Or do you just like supermodels and while they’re walking the runway in batshit feathered confections do you mentally strip them like you do everything else and just pretend they’re already naked thus negating the entire need for the fashion show in the first place?

Okay, I’m sorry.  Not all men mentally strip women.  That’s not fair.  Those of you who don’t, do the outfits do it for you?  I’m asking a genuine question.

Also if I had a spare $10 million I can assure you that no FANTASY has ever included throwing it away on a single bra.  Anyway rubies and diamonds don’t sit well under fabric so I guess the only way to wear such a bra is as outerwear which makes sense because if I spent $10 million on a bra I wouldn’t cover it up but then it becomes an oxymoron.  Underwear outerwear?  Who needs precious gems studding their underwear unless it's a line exclusively for either Disney Villainesses or Bond Girls?  Even there I don't see it since Disney covers up their witches and Evil Queens with, you know, CLOTHING and James Bond just removes everything.

Victoria’s Secret, for real, what is the ever-loving deal with your fashion shows?  I do not understand them.  They are insane and they make me want to boycott you forever.  I am insulted that you think they appeal to anybody with a rational brain who might also spend money in your aggressively pink stores.

- Corinne Simpson