No Secrets For Me

Yesterday I spent my lunch hour shopping, which was a much needed break from work; however I have since found myself with an unusual case of buyer’s remorse.

One of the stops I made was at Victoria’s Secret. I never shop here. Since I discovered Nordstrom lingerie and various dot com lingerie, Victoria’s Secret has been a thing of the past for me. Not sure why I went in, but I did. The first area of the store I came to, I loved. Everything was soft and comfortable looking. The colors were muted and sweet. Then I realized I was shopping in the equivalent of the “old lady section”. I wasn’t actually looking at lingerie, I was looking at nightgowns. My grandmother would have happily worn what I was looking at, and the only other ladies shopping in the section were at least 55 or older. I chalked this little mix up to low blood sugar and moved on.

I perused the store in its entirety and actually found a few things I liked. {And, they were age appropriate.} I walked away, hot pink bag in tow, feeling just fine. Until…I watched So You Think You Can Dance.

One of the dancers was wearing the “top” I had just bought. I kid you not. Sure, they removed a few of the bells and whistles from the original garment, but it was the.very.same.top. I feel like the store should have placed a sign over the outfit that read, “Will see dumbed down version of this very thing on national TV…tonight. Please cover your partner’s eyes.” But, they didn’t and now I have the be-dazzled hooker version of some dancing top.

Now I remember why I never shop at Victoria’s Secret…because everyone else does…including the cast of So You Think You Can Dance.