There is one thing that happens to every woman (and some men) after watching the Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show: We feel terrible about ourselves.
So terrible, in fact, that I wouldn’t be surprised if the show inspired more gym memberships than New Year’s Day.
— Hannah Kavy (@hannahhairflip) December 6, 2016
– diet starts tomorrow
– want every single outfit
– what is it like to be THAT stunning
– cannot look away
— Alana (@apeeps11) December 6, 2016
It used to be my dream to be in the #VSFashionShow but then I remembered my hips were 42 inches and I loved pizza too much
— Noelle Foley (@NoelleFoley) December 6, 2016
The #VSFashionShow even makes me self conscious and I'm male
— Trevor ‘I Do Music’ Douglas (@TrevorDmusic) December 6, 2016
We watch these gorgeous women bounding across the runway like goddesses, and instead of celebrating the female power, we turn to the mirror and wonder why we aren’t enough. We see our inadequacies instead of celebrating our diverse perfection.
I have friends who refuse to watch the show. I know this because I thought about having a VS Fashion Show viewing party and discovered the guest count would be severely limited. The idea crumbled within the span of about an hour. They don’t watch it because it leaves them feeling depressed and inadequate, and as the holidays (and holiday foods) surround us, that is the last thing any of us wants to feel.
So what gives?
Why are these ultra-skinny, perky-boobed bodies the only ones we see on the runway? Why do we feel the desperate need to compare ourselves to them? Why is that the symbol of perfection in America? Why are our psyches so controlled by our looks that we can’t even watch the VS Fashion Show without falling into a rut of self-depression over the fact that we weren’t “blessed” with those leggy genes?
These questions have been asked so many times that they’ve become clichés, yet nothing has changed. The models in the VS Fashion Show aren’t getting any curvier. If anything, they’re only getting thinner.
Personally, I think there needs to be a conversation change. One where we celebrate the beauty of those women on the catwalk as much as we celebrate our individual beauty.
I’m not saying I’m above those feelings of inadequacy. I watch the Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show while binging on chips only to wish I could go back in time 10 years and change the habits. I get it.
But this year, when those thoughts started creeping in, I paused the show and almost leapt out of my chair. I stopped them dead in their tracks and replaced them with, “I’m beautiful.” Because I am.
The beauty of those girls on the runway doesn’t minimize my personal beauty. There isn’t a cap on good-looking people in this world. It’s a “the more the merrier” situation. So rather than looking at those girls’ stomachs and then immediately looking to my own to compare, I would like to finish my chips then go for some ice cream and then maybe prance around in front of my mirror in my bra and underwear while imagining I have wings.
How do you think we solve the beauty comparison problem of the Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show?
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