Angel of My Dreams: My Love-Hate Take on the Victoria’s Secret Show
I will unashamedly admit that I have watched the Victoria’s Secret Fashion show every year since I was 14. I remember visiting the flagship store in New York City, proudly standing in front of their display of Kendall Jenner’s debut outfit, as an eager 16-year-old waiting to post it to my Instagram feed.
But as I’ve grown older, I’ve come to realise how conflicted this show makes me feel. The nuances beneath the wings, the glitz, the glimmer, and the seemingly perfect, yet unattainable bodies of each Angel. As a researcher in maternal mental health, I couldn’t help but reflect on the conversations surrounding Barbara Palvin’s return to the Victoria’s Secret runway just six weeks after giving birth. In today's article, I’ll talk about the controversies, my personal highlights, and everything in between.
A Revamped Show, Following Years of Discourse
The Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show has never been a stranger to controversy. Following its 2018 show, the event took a break in 2019 for several reasons, most notably, the growing criticism of its lack of diversity in body types, ethnicities and gender identity. The show had become famous for its tall, slim models and glamorous “Angels”, but critics argued (and I agree) that it failed to represent a wider range of women, particularly plus-size and transgender models, and those from ethnic minorities. Controversial comments made by a senior executive in 2018 further intensified the backlash. Ed Razek, the Chief Marketing Officer of the parent company told Vogue that the show would not feature transgender, or plus-size models because the show was a ‘fantasy’.
After a four-year hiatus, the show returned in 2023 with The Victoria’s Secret World Tour, before bringing back its traditional runway format in 2024. The brand aimed to modernise the show and make it more inclusive by featuring a wider range of body types, ethnic backgrounds and transgender models, while still maintaining its signature glamour.
Personally, I did notice this shift towards greater inclusivity. But I can’t help wonder. Is this damage control to undo all the backlash? Are the models just ‘diversity hires’? I guess we’ll never know.
I will begin by discussing some of my favourite moments from the show before moving on to explore the controversies and reactions it sparked across social media.
My Personal Highlights of This Year's Show
One segment of the fashion show, in which the models appeared wearing dupattas (draped Indian scarves), particularly stood out to me. As someone who is Indian myself, seeing elements of my culture represented on made me feel a sense of connection. Having grown up watching the show, which predominantly featured ethnic majority models, it was refreshing to see a representation of South Asian culture on the runway.
Moving on to something a little more trivial, and perhaps less meaningful, I have to admit that seeing Kylie Jenner, my favourite of the Kardashian-Jenner family, on the runway was another personal highlight. Walking out to “Angel of My Dreams” while wearing the iconic, $50 million Fantasy Bra, she brought confidence to the stage that was simply unforgettable. Her children, mother, and partner watched her with a sense of awe and pride in their eyes. While this moment may not have carried the same cultural significance as the show’s more inclusive elements, it might have been one of the most memorable moments for me personally.
I also remember the moment in 2017 when model Ming Xi tripped on the runway. Although she picked herself up with grace and continued walking, the footage included in the final televised cut, showed her breaking down in tears backstage. The cameras captured not only her vulnerability but also the support she received from fellow models, who helped her up and cheered her on. It was a reminder that, beyond the glamour and perfection of the runway, the models are human too.
Eight years later, seeing Ming Xi return to the runway, exuding confidence and pride, was genuinely heartwarming. It was particularly satisfying to see her reclaim that moment, demonstrating how a stumble that once left her in tears did not define her.
Something else I really enjoyed was seeing the models’ partners and boyfriends supporting them from the front row. In men’s sport, we are familiar with the term WAGs (wives and girlfriends), who often attract attention. So, seeing the emergence of what I call the 'HABs' (husbands and boyfriends) at the fashion show, proudly giving their partners standing ovations, was a refreshing change of perspective. The show was even compared across social media to the “women’s Super Bowl”. Much like how we see Taylor Swift cheering on her husband at football games, the fashion show gave us the reverse: Cole Sprouse, Patrick Schwarzenegger and Timothée Chalamet proudly showing their support for their respective partners.
Barbara Palvin's Return 6 Weeks After Giving Birth
Beyond these personal highlights, however, I am also aware that the show has sparked controversy online. While I have discussed the aspects I personally enjoyed, it is important to look critically at the wider implications of what was presented on the runway. Putting on my professional hat as a maternal mental health researcher, one issue in particular needs closer attention: Barbara Palvin’s return to the runway just six weeks after giving birth. This raises important questions about postpartum recovery, the pressures placed on women, and the expectations that celebrity culture can create for new mothers about unrealistic (and frankly unreasonable) body types.
My feelings on this remain conflicted. On one hand, I celebrate Barbara Palvin. I am in awe, once again, of the female body’s ability to grow a human being, give birth, and emerge with such confidence and power. Seeing her return to the runway just six weeks postpartum is undeniably empowering.
But on the other hand, I cannot help but wonder whether this narrative risks being tone-deaf to the realities faced by many mothers. Palvin has spoken about how she found it relatively easy to return to her pre-pregnancy shape through healthy eating, light exercise and allowing her body to heal. While this may reflect her personal experience, postpartum recovery is rarely so straightforward. It is shaped by birth experiences, mental health, and access to support.
“Bouncing back” is also a privilege. Returning to work so soon can depend on access to childcare, financial security and a supportive network. For many mothers, particularly single parents or those struggling to make ends meet, these circumstances are simply not available. At a time when women are already vulnerable to body image pressures, celebrating rapid postpartum recovery risks creating an unrealistic benchmark against which new mothers measure themselves.
Palvin is not the first model to return to the runway within weeks of giving birth, but what is possible for one woman should never become an expectation for all women.
If Victoria’s Secret truly wants to champion inclusivity, I would love to see the postpartum body represented in all its diversity: the softer abdomen, the stretch marks, the lactation, the tired eyes and the body that is still healing. Not to establish another beauty ideal, but to acknowledge a reality that is so often hidden.
I celebrate Barbara Palvin and her experience. But I also want to celebrate the mothers who need six months, a year or longer to recover.
The goal should not be to make every woman feel capable of bouncing back, but to create a world in which no woman feels that she has to.
While I personally love the Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show for its glamour and entertainment, my perspective as a mental health researcher means I cannot overlook the criticism it raises. We can still celebrate the show while questioning the ideals it promotes. Above all, advocating for a more inclusive and realistic representation of all women is what will lead to true change.
