FASHION, FANTASY, AND FEMINISM: REASSESSING THE LEGACY OF THE VICTORIA'S SECRET RUNWAY
October 29, 2024
Hannah Sellers & Adeleide Ng
​​Back in the 2010’s, no singular brand held a larger feminine identity than Victoria’s Secret — think signature pink silk, translucent draped silhouettes, diamond-embellished fantasy bras, and Heidi Klum’s colossal wings… At one point, to don Victoria’s Secret was to be desirable. The name in itself is undeniably alluring, thriving on the grounds of its exclusivity. Specializing in lingerie, the brand crafted a public image of female beauty—tall, slim, glamorous, and overwhelmingly white—even in its most intimate form. But more than that, it reinforced a patriarchal male gaze, shaping the ideals of countless impressionable teenage girls. By presenting the supermodels as "angels," the brand implied beauty standards so unattainable that they were divine. Yet, the toxicity surrounding the shows had always been masked by its thrill. The visuals were theatrical, camp even, and irresistibly magnetic; when else would you see Taylor Hill strutting the American flag? Add to that Justin Timberlake’s Sexyback, one is compelled to beam. However, as a new wave of cultural awareness emerged, Victoria’s Secret found itself unable to keep up, forcing the brand into a reckoning and a full-scale reformation.
After a six year hiatus, Victoria’s Secret returned to the runway scene in partnership with Amazon. The show occurred on Oct. 15 at the brand’s flagship store in Manhattan. While this partnership comes off Victoria’s Secret’s launch on Amazon’s online marketplace last spring, airing the show on Prime Video reinforced the commercialization of the brand, promoting a shop-while-watch experience. Amazon’s technology allowed viewers to purchase the models’ looks in real time through a sidebar display of products in alignment with the rhythm of the show. While economical, this kitschy marketing tactic distracted attention away from the fashion, thus reducing the glamor of the viewing experience.
The show effused an air of dynamism, punctuated with an overt emphasis on female empowerment, in pursuit to redefine the modern woman in Victoria’s Secret’s playbook. To reflect such ideals, the show enlisted an all-female musical lineup for the first time in history. Upon announcing the return of its annual show back in May, Victoria’s Secret’s Instagram stated that it would “reflect who we are today, plus everything you know and love.” This statement would ultimately manifest itself in increased gender, racial, and size representation among its models, though its efficacy is contestable.
Critics and social media commenters alike were quick to criticize the show’s loss of its signature flair, with some citing the absence of voluminous blowouts and disjointed styling compared to past years (i.e. Taylor Hill’s drab wings or Adriana Lima’s uncoordinated plaid ensemble). Curiously, where the glamor fell short, the abundance of wings made up for. Formerly, the iconic angel wings were emblematic of a model’s success and exclusive to a select few prized veterans. Yet, in the recent show, novices to the brand, such as Lila Moss, as well as musical performers, were granted wings despite their inexperience. Such normalization of the brand's iconic symbol dilutes its importance and its wow-factor. Is the message here that, in the pursuit of diversity, no one can stand out—an honor once reserved for the slim, white supermodels of the past?
Perhaps most notable about the show was its legendary line-up, which included several “older, retired supermodels”: Kate Moss, Adriana Lima (a true OG angel), Carla Bruni and Alessandra Ambrosio (the first ever spokesmodel for the company’s PINK line) to name a few. Yet despite all the commotion surrounding their appearances, most of their figures were not flaunted as they should have been. Rather, they were covered up in modesty, appearing in stark contrast to the seductively-styled younger models; thereby, making it difficult to distinguish between the sincerity of their renewed brand values and a merely profit-driven marketing scheme. Victoria’s Secret’s overt attempts to reconstruct its image was augmented by the participation of 2 transgender models, marketing a sharp contradiction to statements made by its former Chief of Marketing, Ed Razek, who explicitly discriminated against trans models and rejected their participation in past shows. Evidently, these attempts of inclusivity and diversifying the brand reflects a desire to change, at least at face value, but these efforts may be too little, too late.
Another controversial topic that emerged with the cultural paradigm shift is the lack of size representation on the catwalk. The company made strides towards size-inclusivity in 2021 when Paloma Elsesser joined the brand. Elsesser in addition to Ashley Graham made her angel debuts on the 2024 runway though. Yet again, akin to the older models, their looks were notably more conservative than the rest (bodysuits and loose slip dresses), thus begging the question: is VS truly encouraging viewers to embrace their natural curves or hide under layers of shapewear? For a company that has received such extensive criticism about size inclusivity in a country where 67% females are considered “plus-sized,” the inclusion of 2 plus-sized models was the bare minimum the brand could do. These two women have since become the fashion industry’s token plus-sized models, constantly pulled into photoshoots and campaigns for brands to communicate the message, ‘look, we’re progressive too!’ But why can't these women simply be celebrated for their beauty, rather than constantly defined by their size? Victoria’s Secret, in its attempt to put out fires over its exclusive casting, seems to have taken a similarly shallow approach.
In a society that is tending towards a future of inclusivity and heterogeneity, how can a brand that’s very foundation is built on exclusivity prevail? Indeed, the return of the Victoria’s Secret fashion show garnered mass attention and it was, admittedly, fun. Yet, ultimately, it may be contended that much of the buzz from VS’s revival was rooted in its nostalgic factor. And perhaps, that is all it should be viewed as: a jaunty farewell to the reign of an iconic early 2000’s brand — a final hurrah, if you will.
As Teen Vogue aptly concluded, “critiquing a historically problematic institution isn’t about not ‘letting women have fun.’ It’s about recognizing that sometimes the things we enjoy cause more harm than its worth. Sometimes "great" things die, and maybe, we should leave them in the past.”
