I went to the mall yesterday with my best friend for a little girl time. Naturally, our first stop was the mecca: Victoria’s Secret. Like most women, I have been a fan of this store since I found out what boobs were, and I can spend countless hours wandering around convincing myself that $50 is a totally normal amount to spend on a bra.
There is only one thing that can negatively affect my girly experience at this lingerie superstore: your boyfriend. This has been a reoccurring event in nearly all my shopping trips and I just can’t wrap my head around it. Why is your dweeby little boyfriend hovering around my potential purchase?
So many girls come into this hot pink store with their boyfriend glued to their hip. Why? WHY? They always look miserable, uncomfortable, and confused. And they’re always with the chicks that are buying those ugly sweatpants. I could see how you could potentially lure your significant other into a girly store with the indication of a lingerie purchase but then you pick out some bright yellow sweats? That’s just fucked up.
Victoria’s Secret is a crowded cluster fuck of a store, especially because every girl that comes in there thinks they wear a size small (they don’t). So if you’re like me, who ACTUALLY wears a size small (sorry bitches), it is a battle to get into those white little drawers to find 5 lacy pieces of fabric for $26.50. This battle turns into a straight up struggle if some sack-less male life form is in my way. GIRLS: send your boyfriend to the food court. Send him to a sports store. Send him anywhere. Just please get him the hell away from my thongs.
I used to be one of those girls whose life revolved around my boyfriend (and no one loves leopard print booty shorts more than this girl), and even I didn’t drag my sweet little boy toy through those doors. First of all, he has no business in there, with or without me. Do you think he knows my bra size? The difference between a hipkini and a cheekster? Do you think he cares?
Men are simple creatures: they want to see us prance in around lingerie for about 2-3 minutes and then they wants us to be naked. They do not get a kick out of the panty buying process, and they certainly don’t care if you can find matching tribal prints for a full set.
As women, we get very few sacred places: the nail salon, the gynecologist, our beds watching a Sex and the City marathon, and stores where bras are prominently sold. Ladies- I beg of you, keep your husbands/boyfriends/whatever away from these sacred places. As a single girl, all I really ask for is just a little bit of time away from the male species- I shouldn’t be forced to see your husbands ugly feet or awkward face.