Victoria’s Secret Models: Pretty Little Liars

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Cheeseburgers and soul food, my ass.

In a few days, I will sit down with my Thanksgiving leftovers and watch Victoria’s Secret models strut down the runway wearing moon boots and neon Pink spaghetti strap tops.  Rest assured, I will ogle at their non-existent fat, their perfectly tanned abs, and luscious extensions. I will see myself, flawless, wearing a freaky Pink concoction, and shove the last bite of stuffing in my mouth.  I will wonder how the models are able to walk, even though they are structured like Barbie dolls.

I will hate every single perfect model, not because they are perfect (OK, maybe a little bit because they’re so freaking perfect), but because they are big not so fat liars.

No, I’m not talking about the whole “false advertisement” aspect of those overly padded bras.

What I’m referring to is a recent newscast in which the Victoria’s Secret models sat down to have a little discussion about their number one BFF on the planet: food.  According to the leggy ladies, they love, love, love to eat – everything from cheeseburgers to soul food – especially before a Victoria’s Secret fashion show!

Pause.
Process.
Rage.

You’ve got to be f**king kidding me.

Call me crazy, but the last time I ate a cheeseburger with fries, I didn’t feel like putting on a pair of skinny jeans, let alone ripping it up on the runway in front of millions of people while wearing go go boots and wings. And contrary to what these bombshells are sayin’, I’m pretty confident every woman on earth would agree with me. Look Angels, anyone with a brain and a pulse knows you models don’t go gaga for a Jucy Lucy.  And if you do, you aren’t gorging on one before (or within 6 months of) a VS Miracle Bra photo shoot or runway show.

Let’s get real here. Stop with the games and just tell us the truth – you do a BioCleanse, eat celery for the days leading up to the runway show and pray the combination of hunger and the heat from all those camera flashes doesn’t make you pass out in your lacy thong.

I know what you’re doing. You think talking about fatty, delicious food will make you more “real” and make the rest of us mere mortals feel better about ourselves. But – NEWSFLASH – it doesn’t. In fact, it’s making me feel worse (which is making me want a brownie….) When I see your perfectly sculpted body in my monthly VS catalog or those never-ending legs come walking down the runway, I want to know how hard you worked to get there, not how much you claim to love chili fries. My jiggly thighs want to imagine the hours you spent in the gym while I laid on my couch with a bag of Doritos. My cellulite speckled ass wants to hear about the Bikram classes you took painfully early on Sunday mornings while I slept off a hangover. My under arm fat wants to feel your hunger pangs after a lunch of lettuce with a little balsamic vinegar sprinkled on top while I was mowing down a Chipotle burrito.

Not one ounce of me wants to hear that you gorge on mac ‘n cheese for every meal and still look like that. I don’t buy it so stop it. Stop lying. Stop pretending. Stop talking about cheese grits (mostly because it’s making me hungry). Just tell it like it is, 6-hour workouts and all. Then put on those boy shorts and padded bras and do what you do best: look hot nearly naked so I’ll see you looking perfect and want to buy whatever you’re wearing.

That is all.

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