Dear Mrs. Victoria Secret,
I’ve tried on two of your garments in the last two days. One came in the mail, the other in my local shop…..Mrs. Secret, we need to chat….A little heart to heart…girl talk…
First, let’s start with the bathing suit I ordered (on sale) which was received this week. Since I’m now a grandma and all, I thought I may need something to cover my tummy on future boating outings….I mean, I certainly don’t remember my grandma sporting a bikini….
The price was right, the color hot! A bright peachy / pinky coral number, which looks fantastic on my olive skin. I read the dimensions more than once, carefully selecting the correct size. When the tankini (a tank top swim top) arrived, I was eager to try it on.
I ran over two miles that day and walked my dogs…I guess I could have been a little worn out, my muscles a little tired….
After the first 5 seconds of attempting to slip the tankini over my head, I knew this would not end well….
My arms splayed over my head, elbows touching, my eyes blinded by the fabric which is simultaneously gripping my upper rib cage, it is now cutting off the circulation….my breath is becoming shallow…I sit on the toilet, arms still lifted, trying to fill my lungs…I feel like I’m caught in a bad game of Chinese handcuffs…the more I pull, the tighter it is…
Breathe in, then out completely, like they taught me in yoga…now try to pull that damn thing down to my hips….it only took a couple of tries…maybe three…or four….I rest on the side of the bathtub before examining in the mirror.
Whewww… It looks fine, I think……smoothing it down, turning side to side…but it feels…It feels a bit like a sausage casing…and I can only imagine how I will get this damn thing off when it is wet…Scissors may be required…
We actually wear these things to swim in right??? Or am I the only one?
Fast forward to yesterday. Imagine my surprise when I land smack dab in the middle of your semi-annual sale. Yippeee…happy dance….My husband and I are just returning from a getaway, I think – ooohhh, I’ll try this little number on…Strappy and black… the bra connected to the skirt. As I walk into the fitting room, I wonder, how exactly does this thing work?
I try stepping into it…nope….
I try pulling it on over my head
….and I’m repeating the day before… Chinese handcuffs….
Now, I’m cussing…and my mood is foul….
Wholly shit…I don’t think I can get this damn thing off…and I’m certain I’m not ‘IN’ it to begin with….
I contemplate calling in the sales staff…I’ve seen three working the floor…flipping through the list, I wonder who would answer the call? The young 20ish, size 0, who could probably somersault into this get-up? Oh my Lawwddd…I close my eyes….shake my head…no, this is an adventure I must tackle alone….
….breathe in, breath out…pull, step… breathe in, breath out, crouch, push, sit….geezzzee…Who knew yoga could come in so handy?
I had no idea the level of athleticism needed for such a small amount of fabric….I mean, I’ve been working out and all…but COME ON VICTORIA!!
Mrs.Secret, I really like the IDEA of your garments…I’m sure they would look super cute…However, should you require six years of gymnastics experience and ownership of a trampoline to get your “outfits” on, it really should be noted in the description.
PS – HIRE MORE WOMEN DESIGNERS!!