When I was in middle school, at that awkward age of thirteen, people teased me. I mostly wore dark blue clothes and didn’t speak up much. Although those aren’t reasons to tease someone, I was an easy target for being called “ugly” or “not-so-special.” This didn’t happen daily, but it left its marks. So these days, it feels good to add people from my past on Facebook… and show off my modeling pictures. Yes, I do that. I am human.
However! This is not my natural look.
For the past two years I have watched the Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show. I watch for the over-the-top lingerie creations, the cliché pop sensations that turn up, and to see who’s my favourite model this year. I watch to see the backstage footage of the girls telling stories about their lives, and to see them interact with each other — and the pop stars. Basically I watch to see a well-constructed, super-American circus show. There’s not a moment, however, when I’m thinking of the girls’ bodies and how they should affect me. Cause they don’t.