I remember the younger me nervously walking through the doors of Victoria Secret. It almost seemed porno graphic looking at the bras and panties trying to find the right ones that would replace the A size chest God “blessed” me with for that ever elusive C cup that Victoria promised to give me. The sales clerk confidently approaches me and asks if she can offer any assistance. “Yes” I responded in a rather timid quiet voice, hoping no-one else in the store would hear. “I am looking for a miracle, I mean the miracle bra.” Like a superhero of the boob world she whisks me away to the dressing room with a handful of bras all promising to turn me into a sexy new woman with a larger, perkier chest. I slip the bra on and cautiously turn to the mirror to see if I received my miracle. I’ll be darned it worked! My goosebumps have been replaced by grapefruits!
Now the middle age me is looking to Victoria for another miracle. Perhaps if she could turn my size A chest into a size C, she can change my 28″ waist back into a 24″. So off I head to the store again. This time my embarrassment about being in Victoria’s Secret has little to do with how sexy the garments are but how old and unsexy I am. I truly have lost my mind. No-one rushes to help me this time. That’s okay, I am a big girl and quite capable of helping myself. After locating the garment that promises to return my sagging body into a youthful silhouette once again, I head off to the dressing room. I must say, I never expected to identify so closely with a sausage as I do trying to squeeze into this ridiculous contraption. I think I have probably lost five pounds contorting myself and using all my strength to pull the darn thing up and tuck everything back down. Again I find myself ready to face the mirror, did I receive yet another miracle from Victoria? Sure enough I had a waistline again. Is it possible that I could be so lucky as to find the secret to a better figure twice in my life? Victoria truly is the superhero of less than perfect bodies.
This is what I forgot about Victoria’s Secret from my younger years. The secret is like the magical spell on Cinderella from the fairy Godmother, it has it’s time limit. You see you walk about in your miracle bra with your shoulders pulled back, the button of your shirt opened a little extra revealing the slightest amount of cleavage and advertising a size C chest. But alas, the time comes when you have found that special someone and you decide to share an intimate moment. That is when you hear the ringing of the clock tower, indicating the spell is about to be broken. Yes Victoria’s secret is about to be revealed. The secret of the body shaping suit is even greater. Not only am I fooling those around me to believe I have maintained my youthful figure, but I have fooled myself into believing I can actually breath in this get-up for six hours. Worse yet is the fact that I thought my forty-five year old bladder would want to wait for me to peel the darn thing off before reaching the toilet.
The secret has been revealed. At the end of the day I am still an A cup with a 28″ waist. Turning blue and wetting myself is not worth changing that for anything. I am what I am and I am okay with that. Sorry Victoria, but I think our friendship has come to an end!
I hope I have been able to shed a little light on Victoria’s Secret so perhaps I can save you from one of these embarrassing moments. Or perhaps you have already had one of your own.