The Victoria's Secret fantasy I grew up with is gone. Is the new one any better?

Why the company's pivot to feminism rings hollow

A model.
(Image credit: Illustrated | Getty Images, iStock, Victoria's Secret)

My hometown mall's Victoria's Secret was located on the second floor, across the atrium from the Claire's where I got my ears pierced. As a preteen, it stood out during family shopping trips as the forbidden pink-and-black temple to my idea of womanhood — the place where my older friends secretly shopped for their push-up bras and thongs, and where posters of half-nude Angels winkingly invited customers to browse The Semi Annual Sale. Later, I'd graduate to being a devoted customer myself, pawing through underwear in the buy-two-get-one-free drawers, while an ill-fated fitting before prom placed me in the wrong bra size for years.

I tell you all this because I wholeheartedly bought the pitch. Not quite enough to ever sign up for the VS Credit Card the clerks were always trying to push on customers or to purchase any of the cloying body mists with names like "Love Spell" and "Pure Seduction" that hung in a fog over the check-out line, but certainly to the point that I thought if I could just find the right Bombshell Add-2-Cups, then I might look as good as the winged models with the "perfect bodies" on the TVs behind the counter.

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Jeva Lange

Jeva Lange was the executive editor at TheWeek.com. She formerly served as The Week's deputy editor and culture critic. She is also a contributor to Screen Slate, and her writing has appeared in The New York Daily News, The Awl, Vice, and Gothamist, among other publications. Jeva lives in New York City. Follow her on Twitter.