What is the appropriate response when a feminist “woke” rebrand not only fails but (whisper it) deserves to fail?
For those who missed it, in 2018, lingerie company Victoria’s Secret jettisoned its signature uber-sexy catwalk shows with supermodel “Angels” to embrace a new direction more in keeping with the post-#MeToo climate.
In place of what had arguably morphed into a reductive parade of quasi soft porn and impossible body standards, there was an arty-looking “VS Collective” and a solemn pledge: “To advocate for women”. A commitment to body positivity and diversity included disabled, transgender and plus-size models. Recently, at the Tour, the first televised catwalk in years, Naomi Campbell read out an inspirational poem. Victoria’s Secret brand ambassadors included plus-size model Paloma Elsesser and the US football star and campaigner Megan Rapinoe.
The message was clear: this was a brand atoning for past non-inclusive sins and giving itself a thorough reputational scrubdown. But now it’s all over. With revenue for 2023 projected to be down £1.1bn since 2020, Victoria’s Secret is reverse ferreting the woke rebrand and bringing back “sexy!”. There’s been earnest yapping about how “sexiness can be inclusive”. The odds are looking extremely poor for supermodels reciting inspiring poetry at the next show. That creaking sound you hear may be oversized angel wings, spiky thigh boots, and fur-trimmed camiknickers being whisked hurriedly out of cold storage.
For some gloaters, this is confirmation of “Go woke, go broke”, but the truth could be more complicated. Is it really wokery that has scuppered Victoria’s Secret’s empowerment reboot, or is this more a corporate cautionary tale about the perils of “faking it”?
Forgive me, if by now you’re besieged with Zoolander-esque mental images of: “Lingerie brands that can’t do feminism good, and stuff.” In fairness to Victoria’s Secret, by 2018, it was long overdue a rethink. At its height, the fashion shows were broadcast to more than 100 countries, to millions of viewers, with supermodel Angels including Gisele Bündchen, Heidi Klum, Tyra Banks, Kendall Jenner and Gigi Hadid. But eventually, the diamante shine started coming off the brand that emancipation forgot.
Investigations revealed not only disturbing company connections to paedophile Jeffrey Epstein, but also a wider entrenched misogynistic culture of chauvinism, sizeism and sexual misconduct. Then there was the company’s archaic narrow view of hyper-conformist femininity. Just as the shows were a celebration of unrealistic body standards in a thong, the recurring VS “fantasy woman” archetype was white, skinny, stacked and seemingly locked in a state of perma-orgasm. In terms of body image, even for the fashion world, the dissonance was deafening. Angels enthused about the strict diet and exercise regimes required to get catwalk-ready, while simultaneously chirruping about how “empowered” they felt.
Thus, after #MeToo, Victoria’s Secret was exposed as part-anachronistic feminist bloodbath, part-middle-aged male Fantasy Island. As everywhere else in the 21st century, hearts and minds embraced the infinite possibilities of sexuality and identity, even the much-trumpeted sexiness started to look a tad one dimensional and vanilla. In a climate encompassing everything from the darklands of internet pornography to mainstream shows such as Euphoria, was this the best Victoria’s Secret could do: a tragic binary hetero-hit riffing off dated lads’ mags tropes? All things considered, a rebrand wasn’t such a bad idea. Until it was.
To me, it seems clear why the Victoria’s Secret rebrand bombed, and it has less to do with wokery than corporate hypocrisy and inauthenticity. Sure, the campaign was an unintentionally hilarious exercise in patronising woo-woo, fuelled by the lazy presumption that hazing the public with “good intentions” and “big thoughts” makes you morally (and profitably) untouchable. Hence, Campbell droning through her stanzas, the worthy herding of the “VS Collective” and the overall bizarre sensation of being belatedly “schooled” in inclusivity, feminism and body positivity by a brand infamous for decades for everything but.
Not only did Victoria’s Secret fail to acknowledge that it was extremely late to a party that was already in full swing, but it also encountered a clued-up paying public that was too smart to buy into the abrupt 180-degree turn. People could tell they were being hectored into cynical commercial submission. The “male gaze” still felt very much present, only this time it belonged to men in suits ogling cash registers for the gen Z kombucha-pound.
So, what is a modern lingerie brand supposed to do? Certainly not, as Victoria’s Secret seems to be planning, reverse ferret yet again. Moving on, perhaps ensure that items fit and flatter the different body shapes they’re so performatively “celebrating”. Remember that these days, more than ever, females don’t feel the burning need to be objectified and drooled over by gasping boys and dirty old men: the goal is to be your own eye candy.
Perhaps think twice before liberating those fabled angel wings from the vaults, sticking the outdated feathery edifices on human female backs, patting their glittery, thong-clad bottoms, and sending them prancing down runways again. Above all, remember this wasn’t, as billed, a “failure of woke”, it was a catastrophe born of treating your customer base like mugs.
• Barbara Ellen is an Observer columnist
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