Victoria's Secret

I was lost looking for Borders the other day. I had gone online, found the store closest to me, read the vague directions ("just off 75 by the Oaks Mall"), found the Oaks Mall, circumnavigated the mall by car, walked inside hoping it was there, and headed toward Waldenbooks instead when I saw it wasn't. Waldenbooks ended up not being what I needed, but to get there I had to pass by what seemed like the largest Victoria's Secret in America. I'm talking a twenty second walk for one side, even if you don't slow down to see--for curiosity's sake--what's offered through the invitingly large doors. The store's strategically located on a corner in the mall, so to get to Waldenbooks I had to walk another twenty seconds to traverse the other side.

I surmised that we have such a large Victoria's Secret to accomodate the nation's #1 party school. And then thought about how I'm probably anomalous for using "surmise" in the same sentence as "Victoria's Secret."

Well, as I was lightly examining the construction of the underthings on display, I realized what was attractive wasn't the underwear; it was the models. I mean, you walk by a leather jacket and you think, "Wow, what a sweet leather jacket." Doesn't matter who wears it, the jacket looks nice. But if you aren't Victoria, your secret is probably not best hidden by her products. I admit, Victoria looks pretty good in plastic.

Going to China teaches you things, though. I just gave a presentation last night to some kids about studying abroad, and was explaining that when Chinese people travel, they don't settle for a suitcase. Most of them, I think, don't have suitcases. Instead they use burlap sacks stuffed with food, provisions, a tent, family members, Communist pamphlets--you can fit everything in one of these sacks.

Well, when I was in Xinjiang sightseeing I saw a woman waiting at the bus stop with several bags by her. But what caught my interest wasn't her prodigious packing skills, it was the rest of her cargo:


That's right. It's Victoria's secret, cloned, bisected, sliced into thin strips, and tied together. Made in China! And I thought "Victoria" was an English name.

Needless to say, this revolutionized the way I view women. As I was walking past Victoria's Secret in the Oaks Mall, trying not to lust from the lingerie and succeeding surprisingly well, I thought wistfully to myself, "It's just not the same when you've seen the mannequins naked."