In the light of the favorite collective pink and red holiday of ours, New York Time’s Critical Shopper Visits Victoria’s Secret.
Good ol' pimpin' gone corporate. Hilarity ensues.
Subtleties of eroticism can turn the banal into the fantastic, but Victoria’s Secret has not made its money by being subtle. Its apparent formula for mass-marketing fantasies is to turn the erotic into the banal.
Like a porn star with too many memoirs, Victoria’s secrets are pretty much overexposed at this point. “Ahh, whatever,” Victoria says. “Let me let you in on a little something, girls. You want sex? Hit the guy real hard with blunt sex objects.”
…
Mamas, don’t let your babies go to the Royal Academy of Pink. After all, one of the primary goals of parenthood, to paraphrase Chris Rock, is to keep your daughter “off the pole.”
There is a certain charm in directness, if it’s done right. I am concerned, however, that Victoria seems to be acting out feelings of low self-esteem through indiscriminate promiscuity.
Well, these are times when everything is turned into commodities. Sex sells. It sells quite well. But I guess there’s got to be a line somewhere before it does become a blatant promotion of … promiscuity. Nothing wrong with that, I’ll have to admit, but please don’t let the big guys make uniform choices for you and collect the proceeds in advance.
Source: Cintra Wilson (2008, Feb. 14). Chug-a-Lugging Aphrodisiacs. New York Times.
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