I feel like I could run a woman’s underwear company. Step one, find that factory in Indonesia or China where all the world’s undergarments are sewn together by middle-school aged children. I can do that. Step two, haggle over prices. I’m a fucking grade-A haggler. I once talked a counter guy at McDonald’s into a lower price on my McNuggets because they’d been under the heat lamp. He could’ve lost his job. But I got him there. Step three. Hire a woman who looks like Candice Swanepoel to model your lingerie. Men buy tons because they think their lady will look like Candice if they pay $40 for a chemise (see, I already know the words). Women buy it to feel like they think Candice feels. I’m not even sure what that means, but it works. I make a fortune. I trade in my Apple Lisa for a better computer, take a spelling course, and finally get to writing my anthology of marsupials, nature’s most misunderstood mammals. Done.
Photo Credit: Victoria’s Secret