Push up, minimize, sports-type.
Enhanced backside, padded hips, slimming effect, lift and separate. Smooth lines, no seams, no lumps, no peekaboo, not too-tight, no surprises, all curves. We demand a lot of whatever we wear underneath our clothes, and as in the new book “Selling Sexy” by Lauren Sherman & Chantal Fernandez, we ask a lot of the place where we buy it, too.
Back in the very early ‘70s, Roy Raymond’s wife asked if Roy would, on his way home, pick up a small battery-operated muscle relaxer for use in her work as a therapist. Normally known as a vibrator, this meant that Roy had to travel to a rather unsavory area of Manhattan, and that got him thinking: why should women have to go to seedy areas of town to find something that was becoming an acceptable, not-so-embarrassing thing?
After Roy and his wife moved to San Francisco, they started a new catalog business they called Victoria’s Secret, which offered devices for sale, as well as women’s lingerie. The catalog was arty, and became a collectible that fans eagerly sought. Still, says Sherman & Fernandez, Americans weren’t yet ready to shop for lingerie, catalog or not.
Eventually that changed, and while the Raymond’s catalog was popular and they were turning a modest profit on paper, Victoria’s Secret was hemorrhaging money because Roy insisted on a certain look for his stores.
Enter Les Wexner, a Jewish boy from Dayton, Ohio, whose parents owned a small women’s clothing store. Working at his parents’ establishment years before, Les figured he could do better and, as a young man, he spun off on his own to create a store he called The Limited, because of its limited merchandise. He was so successful that he later purchased his parents’ store, and went on to create an empire that ultimately included several other big name retail stores and a struggling little lingerie shop out of San Francisco that pretty much everyone told him not to buy…
It’s not every day that you spend money on something that no one’s supposed to see, but there we are. Bet you can see yourself reading “Selling Sexy,” though.
For readers who ever shopped at the pink-themed store or watched the Angels in action, it’s not the history of the business itself that’s so interesting – although it’s good, since it also generally encompasses a basic run-down of our shopping habits, circa 1980-2000. It’s not the history of underwear that makes this book so fascinating, although what you’ll learn is undoubtedly fun. No, the most delicious part of this book comes from today’s headlines: Les Wexner’s very good friend was Jeffry Epstein, and authors Lauren Sherman & Chantal Fernandez tell-all here, leaving readers with jaws in their laps, maybe somewhat horrified.
All that in one book? Oooh-la-la.
Readers beware that the nature of this book may be, due to the subject, shamelessly and immodestly brazen. Even so, how can you resist? Find “Selling Sexy” and push it to the top of your TBR pile.
