The Victoria’s Secret Swim Party was held in LA last night, and the Angels and their angels were out in full force. Thanks for that.
Today is one of those God-awful 50-degree rainy days here, and all I want to do is wallow in my ‘I want to go and play outside’ disappointment with a pint of Ben and Jerry’s Brownie Batter. That, and my six-hundred year-old afghan that my great-great-great-great-grandmother’s aunt’s cousin’s daughter knitted back when women were regular women and not golden Amazonian goddesses who emitted fat-free rainbow sprinkles and platinum-coated unicorns from their every orifice.
That should make me feel better about all of these photos, right?
What says Valentine’s Day, erections, starvation for two weeks, and then binging on chocolates, wine, and frou-frou baked goods better than Victoria’s Secret models strutting their stuff on the ‘sexiest’ holiday of the year?
Nothing. Really. There’s no hidden joke there – the answer’s simply ‘nothing.’
Stay tuned to EB for a special, sexy Valentine’s Day surprise to be unveiled this Saturday, February 5th, 2011!
Did any of you waste your time watching the Victoria’s Secret fashion show last night? I have friends that, like, make a specific and deliberate homage to their sofas and televisions during these magical times of year when the VS Angels do their little thing on the catwalk – they do it all up with fat-free air lattes and flavorless rice cakes, complete with guilt-free, genetically engineered seedless strawberries. It’s A Big Event for them. Me, I’m glad I didn’t buy into the hype, because I heard (and saw) that this year was especially disappointing and frankly, odd.
Katy Perry performed her latest single, ‘Firework,’ looking aptly like a firework, and as the VS models traipsed along the stage donning weird circus-like garb and lip-syncing the lyrics to Perry’s song, I felt kind of ashamed, like I was watching someone close to me have an embarrassing public nervous breakdown in a really inappropriate place like a confined area for public transportation, but doing nothing to quash it.
‘The sexiest night in telvision.’ Huh. More like, ‘The sexiest and most uncomfortable night in television,’ but not a good type of uncomfortable like the way climbing the rope in school used to be.