I had a Wednesday Wish List planned to post today for the upcoming holiday season
(party dresses, anyone?) but then I fell spell to the Victoria Secret’s Fashion Show last night, like everyone and their great aunt. Pardon me while I get up on my soap box.
I sat spell-bound for the entire hour by the theatrics of this show and the behind-the-scenes footage that left me thinking Miranda Kerr and I really would be bff. Who knew the attire worn in this show is couture and takes an entire year to create? Who knew the background stories, insecurities, and opinions of these supermodels
(Many of them are rock star moms and wives—take this story on Lily Aldridge, for example)? These girls, the Victoria’s Secret SUPERmodels, they amaze me. They are stunningly beautiful with rocking bods and personality for days—nothing like the waif-like models I’ve seen parade down many a fashion week runway. They are the real deal—the girls that we’ll eventually tell our daughters, “They were the most beautiful girls that existed when I was young.” And they work at it, hard, and admit to it. I can confidently proclaim that they inspire me, as well. I was practically pulling on my yoga pants as last night’s fashion show ended
(or maybe I was finishing a glass of wine—whatever).
Nonetheless, I was slightly
dismayed disappointed when I saw on Facebook the bashing these girls got today:
Their job is to work out.
How much plastic surgery have they had done?
No one actually looks like that.
And then, even more so when I began chatting with a friend to hear her proclaim her embarrassment for loving the annual fashion show so much. This friend, mind you, is a beautiful girl inside and out. And she’s also
brilliant. So I was surprised when she simply stated, without thinking twice, “It makes me feel a bit shallow loving them so much, wanting to figure out their beauty secrets and wondering about their workouts.” My wheels really began turning. As girls, we are doted on and lifted up for being intelligent, forward-thinking, driven or charming—God-gifted abilities. So what, exactly, is so wrong with being pretty—wasn’t that God-gifted as well?
Where along the way have smart girls been taught that it is shallow to care about how you look?
Don't for one minute take me
too literally here. I’m not boldly stating that we should all become self-consumed by our looks or strut down a runway scantily clad in black lace and Swarovski crystals—quite the opposite, actually
(though they make it look like so much fun). Just as you’ve been given a brain or a sharp personality or whatever it may be that you nurture, take care of, and improve, isn’t it alright to do that to yourself as well? After all, our body
is a temple, and it deserves care and refinement. And while I’m not endorsing here that we all make vanity our middles names and go try and look like Victoria Secret models
(they were God-given a bit more in the body department, after all), I am endorsing taking pride in the beauty you've been blessed with as much as the brains and passion you've been given, and not being embarrassed for refining it. That also means embracing all those oddities that we have going on in the physical department
(my eyes change colors—that’s definitely not normal). In some way, we’ve all got the whole package, and I think we should be proud of these assets equally. You can be smart, and driven,
and pretty. And I don’t find anything wrong with wondering what their supermodel beauty secrets are (that you can find
here and
here) or researching their workout regimes (that you can find
here). I mean, it works for them...
(Just make sure your boyfriend knows they have trainers and a personal hair and makeup team)
So, shine bright you crazy diamond
(direct reference to Rihanna’s rocking performance last night) And don’t feel like you’re shallow for doing it.
For some serious BTS from the show, tips, and tricks, visit this little site
here.
xo
