Sunday, November 28, 2010

Time to stand up for our girls!

I've decided to boycott Victoria's Secret. Yep. This is bound to be the first volley in what will turn into a massive world-wide movement against marketing strategies which are guaranteed to send us normal women into brutal depression. I'm thinking VS probably gets their advertising sponsored in part by Xanax or Valium or other mood-enhancing drugs.

Why am I boycotting a company like this? Why am I taking my hard-earned dollars to the mall and NOT spending them in the PINK section? Here's my reasoning.

Victoria's Secret does not use real people in its advertisements. There are perhaps twelve women in the entire US who have legs longer than the Mason Dixon line. They all work for VS. Not real. Those same women also have perky breasts. Now admittedly there are more than twelve of us gals with perky breasts. However SHOWING perky bouncy breasts is an insult to the rest of us who can't manage perky any more and know that "bouncy" just flat out HURTS.

Moving on, and totally bypassing the unreal bee-stung pout most of these "models" like to shove out toward the camera, there's the waist/torso, which is sleek, slender, possesses a skin textured like finest cream and seems to go on until it's a scant millimeter away from full frontal nudity. Goes without saying navels are, of course, always perfect. Are you seeing a pattern here? Getting nauseous? Me too.

Without getting too kinky or perverted, I shall simply cite a complete lack of anything resembling human flesh in the personal area of these women. Their thighs have apparently been spared hair, freckles or any kind of normal skin markings. Their bottoms are all curved symmetrically and perfectly, with butt cheeks that seem to whisper seductive things like "cuddle me", "look at my smoothly protruding globes of delight" and so on.

So yeah. They're frickin' perfect, these women, and they strut, sashay and slither (in heels that would qualify as torture devices in most American homes) across our television screens and onto our massive billboards. Not to mention our mall walls and posters.

Sex sells. I know this. But I have to say that unless VS is selling lingerie to men, it's missing its mark here. What VS is NOT doing is luring me into its store to buy a newly engineered Invisible Supporting Cleavage Enhancing Strappy or Strapless Smooth Cup Lace Covered - wait for it - BRA. It doesn't help that they don't have it in my size. Another point against them. One drawer of anything over 38? C'mon. Really? Really?

Victoria's Secret is telling me that I'm ugly, old, and not worth crap because I don't fit the mold they're pushing as sexy and gorgeous. They're not even taking the time to find models who are MORE like real women and then putting them into VS lingerie - ta da! Sexy and gorgeous. A campaign like that might make me think about buying a piece of their overpriced flutteriness. (Sidebar: VS. Please stop messing with panties, will ya? There are really only so many ways you can change that garment up. Ninety nine percent of those ways are gonna end up making life miserable for those of us who don't care for butt floss.)

So there's my reasoning, my commitment to withhold my dollars (holiday and otherwise) from a company which uses T & A to sell bras and panties. It doesn't work for me and it's gone to the point of being extremely annoying. Sure, keep the catalog. Thousands of young guys are getting their puberty jumpstarted by holding it in one hand. (And probably some older ones who have a weak moment as well.) Their business.

Personally, I don't find almost naked, impossibly perfect, models an encouragement to purchase anything, and I'm completely fed up of looking at them or seeing them sneering at me from the jumbo tv screens at the mall. Panties and bras cover personal places. All our personal places are different. Vive la Difference, Victoria's Secret, isn't it time you celebrated it? (See the Dove/Real Women campaign.)

And you know what? Your bras aren't all that and a bag of chocolate chip cookies, either. The last one I bought developed a hole over the underwire and stabbed me viciously. Which is, undoubtedly, why I'm stabbing back.

Gimme Fredericks of Hollywood any time. At least they respect the fact that the female population isn't composed entirely of 36C's!!!

Sahara

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