Oh. Well, fuck you, too, Victoria’s Secret.

Oh, OK, cool, ‘cause my fat ass needed to save some money not shopping your bullshit, anyway, you word-misusing jagoff fuckface. (Even putting aside this topic, dude sounds like a complete tool.)

Via Jezebel: Victoria’s Secret Doesn’t Want Plus Size or Trans Women Walking the Runway

Happy Valentine’s Day from some Victoria’s Secret cult bunker…

Um…you guys? Is anyone else scared?  

I went to the site to replace some basic lingerie I don’t have to think about when I get dressed for work, stuff I can just put on and know for sure there’ll be no lace, seams, or wonky padding disrupting my ensemble. (And, admittedly, MAYBE some special-interest items for down the line…)

But I don’t think I can spend money there now. That’s troubling.

I’m not just being an asshole — this photo LEGIT looks like that woman did not sign up for this.

Victoria’s Secret is that she’s always cold.

As if we needed more proof of what a classy lady I am, I pulled my bra strap away from my back because it was itching, and ended up putting my finger through the fabric.

I mean, it’s like you can’t rely on a 5-year-old bra anymore. What CAN I believe in, Universe?

Right, then. Shopping. 

Also, this is totally how I roll when I wear flannel pajamas. Victoria’s Secret gets me.


A day in the life of body image.

In a truly impressive body image shift (no doubt influenced by hormones), I started off yesterday all “I am Victoria’s Secret model SEXY,” and by the end of the day I saw this article and thought, “Huh. Well, I look like Lena Dunham in this lingerie. AND THAT IS FINE, TOO.”  

More Cherub. Less Angel.

Sometimes I wear Victoria’s Secret and feel like I could give a svelte blonde Angel a run for her wings.*

“You bettah WORK!”

*Other days I’ll wear it and feel like the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man, but we’re not focusing on that today.   


Defying gravity with vanity sizing

Let me just tell y’all what a bunch of bullshit vanity sizing is. 

I’m wearing an industrial-strength, pulleys and levers, $50, DD cup strapless bra from Victoria’s Secret, because that’s the only strapless bra I’ve ever found that stays where it’s supposed to and presents my breasts in the resplendent manner to which I’ve become accustomed.

And I am wearing it under an adorable strappy tank top that’s a size fucking small. DOUBLE D BOOBS SHOULD NOT LIVE IN A SMALL. 

I feel bad for ACTUAL small people. This is how we get sizes like 00 and XXS.

Also, I don’t know how the shit “DD” happened. In the past 10 years or so I’ve gone from C to D and then to DD, without any growth. They’re ample, but not, like, special-size large. So I think they’re screwing with bra sizes, too.