August 12, 2010

Dear Victoria, What is Your Secret?

A couple weeks ago a friend and I dropped off our teenagers at the movies and filled our time with a little shopping.  She declared that she was in need of some new bras and I was a bit surprised at the place she wanted to shop.  I'm not sure why I was surprised.  But I was.  Whenever I pass Victoria Secrets in the mall with my teenagers I'm a bit embarrassed for them.  Poor kiddos with new hormones raging, forced to be exposed to blown up photographs of melons the size of microwaves staring down at them from above.  It's a tricky spot to be placed in while walking the mall with your mother.  Bless their hearts, they take after their father and look away (at least in my presence).

I will admit that in my single days I shopped from the VS catalogue for clothing on occasion.  My new husband was not pleased when the magazine kept coming in our mail.  He considered it pornographic.  It does comes close.  Not to mention the fact that photographs of women lounging around in their bras and panties with their perfect bodies and grand pianos in the background leaves one feeling a bit unsettled with the life-cards they have been dealt.  I mean, who knows when we'll be able to afford a baby grand...  So I called and had the catalogue cancelled and haven't shopped there since.  I prefer Macy's dept store for my underthings.  The colors there make more sense.  Walking into VS with my friend reminded me of a circus.  Who needs to put on such a flashy show to get attention?  What do you do when you want to wear a white T shirt?  Who wants to be bothered with coordinating the things you rarely see?  Am I missing something big here?  I recalled all the fancy honeymoon teddies given to me at my bridal shower that came from this store.  (Listen to me, calling it 'this store' it's like Victoria Secrets is like Voldemort's name to me.... unmentionable!)  Anyways when I showed T the fancy new underthings I had received he said "Let's see what they look like on the floor?"  Why?  "Because that is where they will end up in 15 minutes time anyways."  Pretty solid newlywed wisdom.  So I haven't wasted much money on that sort of thing over the years.  Call me boring.  I don't care.

My friend however, spent probably over 200.00 on bras and underwear to match.  I kept thinking that Target has nice underwear that doesn't cost 12.00 a pair, but we've already established my boringness.  I did try some things on and came away with one bra (in tan- bold, I know!).  I thought that the neon pink light up sign on the mirror in the dressing room was not super classy.  I called over the stall to my friend to see if hers said the same thing.  "Yep" she confirmed "it says strip." Which to be fair, is what you do when trying on clothes but I hardly think we needed guidance.  She probably thought I was being judgmental when my next comment was "all they need in here is a pole and some dirty music."


noyb said...

i havent been in a vs in years. 9i bought a bunch of stuff there when i got married(22 years ago)and havent been back since.
your husband is funny. and practical.
i got so much lingerie at my showers and wore so little of it because it really is impractical-even for my hot(now lost and so underappreciated)20 year old body.
i like macy's as well. give me a vanity fair bra any day. i love them!

Carrie Stuart said...

LOL! That is too funny about the dressing room. I'm with you...I see that place in a whole new light as the mom of teenage boys. Ick!

Chaka said...

Funny post. I agree that it can be awkward walking by "that which shall not be named" and pretending you don't see the Mount Rushmore sized scantily clad figures on the posters.

Laurel C. said...

I miss the days of the tactful pink, white, and black Victoria's Secret with the Victorian pink stripes on the walls. Remember those? I think it was the mid-90s. They were actually selling useful bras, lotion, and robes back then. Not raw sex. Sigh...

(I hope all these naughty words aren't getting you terrible hits from perverts on Google Search.)