“The show is a fantasy, it’s a 42-minute entertainment special,” said Edward Razek, the former
chief marketing officer of L Brands, and one of the brains behind the iconic Victoria’s Secret
Fashion Show. For years that fantasy defined not only the brand, but an entire era of pop
culture: an era of glittering wings, flawless bodies and manufactured perfection. When the show
returned from its four year hiatus, it came with change. There was more diversity, more
inclusivity, and a reimagining of what beauty looks like. However, this change was met with
backlash, largely sparked by nostalgia. Many fans longed to see features of the old Victoria’s
Secret fashion shows. They complained that the wings weren’t big enough, the models weren’t
skinny enough, the stage wasn’t flashy enough. They wanted to see the unattainable bodies,
the old glamour, and the old idea of fantasy and what it meant to be a VS angel. This reaction
has revealed something deeper than aesthetic preference. It has exposed society’s obsession
with the past, and its reluctance to let go of an idealized version of femininity that no longer fits
the present.
At its peak in the early 2000s, the Victoria’s Secrets Fashion Show was a cultural spectacle that
attracted millions of viewers each year. The audience was captivated by the glamourous stage
designs, performances from pop icons, and perhaps most of all, the models, who were referred
to as “Angels.” The show was not just about the lingerie, but about the illusion of a fantasy that
was created in the 45 minutes that the show aired. For plenty of viewers, this became tied to a
deep sense of nostalgia. It captured the pop culture of the 2000’s, an era that is remembered for
being obsessed with glamour and celebrity culture.
However, as social attitudes began to shift, the fantasy that once made Victoria’s Secrets feel
iconic started to feel tacky and outdated. By the late 2010s, the show faced criticism for
promoting unrealistic body standards and for its lack of diversity. Viewership declined, and what
was once seen as dramatic, started to appear tone-deaf in a world that had begun embracing
body positivity, feminism, and inclusivity. In 2019, the brand pulled the plug on the show,
marking the end of an era that had defined early 2000s beauty culture.
Upon its return last year, the Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show had reinvented itself. It featured a
more diverse lineup of models and included women of different body types and backgrounds.
The changes intended to align the company with the new generation’s set of values. However,
instead of receiving unanimous praise for this move towards inclusivity, the show’s return was
met with a wave of online backlash. Many fans online lamented the loss of the ‘real’ fashion
show, complaining that the fantasy had disappeared. For them, the new, inclusive version
disrupted the illusion they had grown up with. On the surface, this reaction seems immature and
foolish. And one can’t be faulted for seeing it this way. However, the people’s discontent also
was not tied just to the aesthetic that they missed, but to a deep sense of nostalgia.
Nostalgia is rarely about the past itself but about how we remember the past. When people
express longing for the old Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show, they aren’t necessarily yearning for
the models or the lingerie, but for a feeling. The show became a symbol of a time when beauty
seemed certain and when the media offered clear boundaries between fantasy and reality. In an
era where beauty ideals have become fluid and inclusive, that certainty has vanished, and with
it, a sense of stability.
Psychologists such as Tim Wildschut and Constantine Sedikides describe nostalgia as a
double-edged emotion. It comforts us by idealizing the past, but it also resists change by
keeping us tied to outdated ideals. For many fans, the old VS show represented not just
entertainment, but a shared cultural memory of glamour, aspiration, and escapism. To see that
memory rewritten or replaced feels like a loss of identity to some. The backlash against the
reimagined show reveals more about the discomfort of cultural evolution than about the show
itself. What people miss is not the Angels but about the version of themselves, and of the world,
that the Angels once reflected back at them.
Perhaps the true fantasy, then, is not the one that Victoria’s Secret built in the 2000s, but the
one it is now attempting to redefine. A fantasy where every woman can see herself reflected.
What changes is not just the fantasy, but also who gets to belong to it. And I think that’s beautiful.