Victoria’s Trannies, Victoria’s Dykes, and Victoria’s Fatties.
Victoria’s Secrets is the last Company to give way to the – already tired – wave of wokery and third-rate feminism (this, assuming that there can be a first and second rate of feminism; which is debatable) and embark on a “courageous” journey towards financial hurt.
Instead of beautiful women representing – at least for the world – the canons of beauty, femininity and sweetness, they will, in future, give space to atrocious parodies of dykes like that Rapinoe person (“woman” is a compliment she has not deserved), to some representative of exploded fatties like every American corner has by the dozen, and – it is rumoured – even to trannies, in order to really, really push out any only half maddened woman who might still have wanted to give them some money.
I am not a woman, and it is difficult for me to fathom what goes on in the mind of any of them (for example, they seem to actually find men attractive; something, I assure you, inconceivable and inexplicable to most men…). However, one thing is very easy to understand: that, as long as the sun shines, women will want examples of other women who represent the best of what they find in themselves: femininity, sweetness, grace and, of course, beauty. Yes, beauty, then the young girl, even the very little girl of four or five, who does not understand how important beauty is in a woman must be, even at that young age, very, very thick.
Not as thick, though, as the people at the helm of Victoria’s Secrets; a company who had become the very epitome of female beauty and has now decided to sacrifice a marketing campaign (and embodiment of female aspiration) gone on for decades for some sort of virtue signaling which will not fail to have a disastrous effect on their (no pun intended) bottom line.
You may criticise the scantiness of Victoria’s Secrets bikini-clad models. What you must see, though, is that the campaign touched a very obvious nerve in the female psyche, exactly because it went at the very root of what every woman, whatever her feminist claims, desires to be: beautiful, feminine, sweet, desired by worthy men.
Fatties, trannies and dykes are neither beautiful, nor feminine, nor – sorry to bust your bubble – desired by the men the other women want. I concede that a fatty might be, in a way, sweet and feminine, but let us be honest with ourselves: this is not the kind of femininity any woman aspires to. I never saw a beautiful, slender woman wish she were a fattie. I never saw two beauties look at some hippo crossing the street and murmur to each other, with a mixture of admiration and envy, “she is so beautiful”. I never saw the high school beauty look at the local fattie and sigh a resigned “every man must be in love with her!” It’s just not the way it works.
In short, even the “model fatties” (or turd of other kind: see the “model” at the top) on the billboard will only smash their own ugliness in the face of the ugly potential clients of the brand, whilst the model dykes and the model trannies will positively repel them. This, ladies and gentlemen, is not how you sell lingerie, or bikinis. Actually, this is a good way to let your clients run away in disgust, then – if these idiots really keep their word, which I dare them to do! – there will not be many women willing to willingly associate their idea of themselves with the ideas of trannies, dykes, and fatties.
Not understanding much of women – which is, in fact, reassuring in a person of my sex – I think I can still easily understand this: Victoria’s Secret sold to their, in the vast majority, not stunningly attractive clients exactly that: the aura, the momentary illusion, the stardust of exceptional beauty, femininity and grace. If that goes away, and the stardust is substituted for a turd, it’s an easy bet that this turd will not be found as an inspiration by many; then if this were the case, it would mean that absolutely everyone, from the beginning of time to now, and most certainly from the beginning of advertisement to now, got absolutely everything, and I mean ab.so.lu.te.ly e.ve.ry.thing, wrong.
I must say that, meanwhile, I enjoy this kind of woke antics. Besides being funny in that mockingly terrifying way in which the cannon woman and the bearded woman were funny, it has something to see these woke companies crush and burn. Nickelodeon is almost extinct. CNN is well on the way of the dodo. Coca Cola managed to seriously harm themselves before partially waking up. Countless other companies have seen the consequences of woke thinking, and my funniest example is always the shop that practised a surcharge of 18% or 19% to men, to be donated to wymyn’s charities, and thought that they would thrive. Alas, they went bust, and I wonder if they ever understood why.
If they follow up on their promise and keep spreading dykes, trannies and fatties around, the jokes on Victoria’s Secrets will be many, and brutal.
They will deserve every one of them and, if this blog post has not contributed to it, be assured it has not been for lack of trying.
Victoria’s Turds are coming to a billboard near you.
Start making popcorn now.