11.19.09 11:30 PM ET
Live from Victoria's Secret
The Daily Beast’s Jacob Bernstein goes inside the annual Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show (which aired Tuesday night), where the Black Eyed Peas compete with an army of the world’s highest-paid models strutting their stuff in lingerie. Plus, view our gallery.
Laser lights flash. Cameras run down a track at the speed of a freight train. Electronic music blares. Suddenly, a woman on a wire is flying from the floor to the ceiling. Out come the Black Eyed Peas, who are at the Lexington Avenue Armory at the Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show, performing their hit “Boom Boom Pow.”
This isn’t a fashion show—it’s a movie production, featuring an army of the highest-paid models in the world strutting their stuff in garter belts and fancy corsets.
At ordinary runway shows, the models icily stare down the audience.
Click Here to View Our Gallery of the Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show
At the Victoria’s Secret show, the only fashion world event at which the target demo is straight men, they shimmy and shake as they make their way around the room, blowing kisses to rich businessmen who line the front rows, gaping in return.
There’s Heidi Klum in a bra and panties. You’d never know she had a baby just weeks ago.
And there’s Isabeli Fontana, the Brazilian stunner who appears in all the company’s campaigns. She’s got a two-piece on along with a white fur stole.
There’s a gospel choir, scores more half-naked women, and a whole lot of money being blown around onstage. The women look fantastic. It is what it is.
One after another, they come, in a five-section parade that lasts all of 25 minutes but makes you totally forget there was ever such a thing as a recession.
The first section has a dominatrix vibe, sort of Lady Gaga meets Thierry Mugler. Then comes “All Aboard.” Dancers dress like train conductors and come out doing handsprings. They make ample use of luggage that’s marked up with the Victoria’s Secret logo. After that, it’s off to what the program calls “The Pink Planet,” and the outfits are sort of ’60s-hippie boudoir by way of the Mall of America. Then the Peas come back, with their first lady, Fergie, decked out in a green bustier that’s attached to a giant train. It’s like a giant ball gown, except that with the front of her legs are exposed so you can see everything except what her underpants cover.
The view is good.
From there, there’s a gospel choir, scores more half-naked women, and a whole lot of money being blown around onstage. The women look fantastic. It is what it is.
Jacob Bernstein is a senior reporter at The Daily Beast. Previously, he was a features writer at WWD and W Magazine. He has also written for New York magazine, Paper, and The Huffington Post.