Underwear Underworld, Part 1: You Know You Love It… Victoria’s Secret

san-francisco-victorias-secret-store-5d20652-wingsdomain-art-and-photography

Image curtesy of this lovely lady’s blog: http://www.girlscene.nl/blog/11730/_mijn_top_10_favoriete_winkels_in_het_buitenland 

PART 1:

I love beautiful underwear, I do. However I wanted to share my recent experience at the boutique boudoir that is Victoria’s Secret. Another underwear journey, although this time the experience was wholly different. As you might have guessed, I came back home to England for Christmas. and an eager friend who has just broken up with her boyfriend, defiantly dragged me round the Victoria’s Secret sales.

“an eager friend who has just broken up with her boyfriend, defiantly dragged me round the Victoria’s Secret sales”

In short, it is a black and purple, plastic and glitter explosion shoved together inside a frilly, seduction-scented box, layered carefully with the skin of a thousand, female preying mantis. The underwear is unusually created by sexy, little elves, covered in lip gloss who live on coconut water and bronze eye shadow.  By contrast to the howling winds and driving rain outside during this particularly wild, British winter, this shop is a palacial, safe haven.  You cannot skid on the wet entrance to Victoria’s Secret for you will be shot on sight– and yet women insist on wearing dagger-like stiletto’s. I am sure it is part of the internal training process.

“a black and purple, plastic and glitter explosion shoved together inside a frilly, seduction-scented box, layered carefully with the skin of a thousand, female preying mantis… unusually created by sexy, little elves, covered in lip gloss who live on coconut water and bronze eye shadow”

My friend abandoned me. I did not know whether I was allowed to touch certain puff balls of silk, let alone try them on. The bras seem to prop themselves up by the bulky cup, poised to greedily jump on your boobs. I clutch my chest protectively. Despite all this, the bras are gorgeous, expensive, but nice. Eventually, I found a couple I thought were fine so I got measured.

Victoria's Secret Fashion Show, Lexington Armory, New York, America - 07 Nov 2012

Original image url: http://lemoncurve.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2013/07/fashion_scans_remastered-victorias_secret-fashion_show-2012-scanned_by_vampirehorde-hq-2.jpg

“I did not know whether I was allowed to touch certain puff balls of silk, let alone try them on. The bras seem to prop themselves up by the bulky cup, poised to greedily jump on your boobs”

Before I’d even reached the changing room, (that looked like a suspended selection of Caeser’s silken nightrobes) I was pulled over by very attentive service. We need details. Lining up they take your name down on a list – as if I was queuing up to get into a prestigious club. Is this your first time? How many would you like to try? So-and-so will assist you and wait outside in case you need any help – here is the bell (points at glittery, golden bell).

Good gracious.

I felt as if I was bobbing outside a club where instead of steamy bottles of Vodka lining the shelves in a shiny, expensive fashion, its bras. Millions and millions of bras. Looking at me. And knickers. It’s really a wonder the bras aren’t served up on a clean, black tray, glistening with unicorn spit, or cooled in buckets with ice shaven from igloos of eskimo princesses.

“It’s really a wonder the bras aren’t served up on a clean, black tray, glistening with unicorn spit, or cooled in buckets with ice shaven from igloos of eskimo princesses”

I decided I wanted to get measured and apparently I was not the size I thought I was. (How off can you be?) I was informed to get measured every six months. Six months, that’s the amount of times one goes to the dentist. Come on though, as long as you clean your teeth, you’re doing nothing wrong. But your boobs – can’t the just look after themselves? And really how often do they change size and shape? One morning will I look down, 18 months after my last measurement and see teabag-like-bra covering my nipples because of how big they’ve gotten? Afterwards, a trusty card was thrust into my hand – much like the stamp a bouncer gives you at a club telling you that you can come back.

“I was informed to get measured every six months. Six months, that’s the amount of times one goes to the dentist. Come on though, as long as you clean your teeth, you’re doing nothing wrong. But your boobs – can’t the just look after themselves? And really how often do they change size and shape?”

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