So our therapists and our livers know all about the Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show. It’s the Superbowl of ruining every girl’s self esteem and the Oscars of inducing eating disorders. Every year I watch it and count all of the calories I’ve eaten in the past 365 days: I had two bowls of Special K, 3 pieces of turkey bacon, a handful of popcorn, 5 peanut butter M&Ms and like 3 pieces of licorice.
Well this year’s show is a bigger cocaine-fueled, estrogen-filled, betch-fest than a party with Kate Moss, Gisele Bundchen, and Naomi Campbell circa 1998.
Victoria’s Secret finally caved to Instagram and hired Kendall Jenner and Gigi Hadid aka the model versions of Blair Waldorf and Serena Van Der Woodsen. Maybe if Kenny has one of her friends around, she wont be bullied worse than Claire Lyons in the first Clique book. Gigi Hadid was pretty much guaranteed her wings after being the face of Pink, but I’m surprised Kendall and her nipple piercing made the cut.
Rihanna was supposed to perform with Selena Gomez and The Weeknd, but bailed a week before the show is supposed to be taped to work on her new album. Ummmmm RiRi hasn’t released an album since 2012, she’s had plenty of fucking time. This is a clear case of a betch making plans at 11 am and bailing 30 minutes before happy hour because “her roommate isn’t feeling well.” Ellie Goulding is replacing her. So when she performs, it’ll be just like when one of her songs comes on your pregame playlist: time to pour yourself another drink.
Then Jourdan Dunn got really real on Twitter and Tweeted
Shots fucking fired. I’m a fan of the BS/VS mixup, but like please don’t compare your decision making to Rihanna’s. I mean, congrats on dropping Blue Steel this year, but you’ve got a long way to go before you reach Magnum.
So basically, the $2 million bra is great and all, but brace yourself for some Angel level drama.