Perhaps the definition of irony can now be summed up by Missy Elliott, in her present state of thinness, performing at the Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show while singing, “I got a cute face, chubby waist/Thick legs, in shape/Rump shakin’, both ways/Make you do a double take.” As Elliott sang the caveat about still being “in shape” (despite the thick legs), the camera cut to a bevy of skinny models singing along with that specific part, almost as if the director wanted to make especially certain that no one at home should get it twisted just because some of Elliott’s lyrics hinted at something like “body positivity.” And this done at a time when that was hardly on anyone’s radar—for the “Lose Control” single originally came out in 2005. Indeed, tapping Elliott to not only perform, but to close out the show was an interesting choice when taking into account that Elliott has never been someone deemed “emblematic” of the brand.
As for the other performers selected to soundtrack the show, Madison Beer, Karol G and Twice, well, let’s just say they have the kind of “aesthetic” that VS has been much more notoriously aligned with in the past. But, of course, it’s apparent that this “revamped” version of the fashion show is intended to be more “inclusive.” After all, a major part of the reason that the show was cancelled back in 2019 stemmed from critiques about its predictable lack of inclusivity. Not just in terms of the models selected to showcase the lingerie, but also, of course, with regard to the sizes paraded. Funnily enough, the VS Fashion Show probably could have kept going in the face of this criticism (especially since, at present, the pendulum has swung back toward favoritism for the “skinny bitch” body size that reached an apex in the 90s and 00s). But what really did the show in was the brand’s association with Les Wexner (it’s always men named Les, isn’t it?), the CEO of L Brands, Victoria’s Secret erstwhile parent company before it became its own publicly traded and independent business in 2021. Due to his very well-known and extremely close relationship with Jeffrey Epstein (in fact, one of Epstein’s lines for preying on women was to claim he was a recruiter for Victoria’s Secret models), the backlash against Wexner reached a peak in 2019, with one of the side effects being the so-called cancellation of the runway show. Only for it to reanimate in 2024.
At the time of the cancellation, however, the reaction was one of the “serves them right” and “it’s about time” variety, with many women being fed up with the antiquated portrayal of women from the blatant perspective of a hetero male fantasy. Perhaps there was a time, pre-2008 (the year Elliott’s major weight loss due to Graves’ disease began), when Elliott might have been of the same mind. But it appears as though she, too, has drunk the “skinny bitch Kool-Aid”—along with her one-time collaborator, Lizzo. Indeed, when Elliott jumped on Lizzo’s 2019 single, “Tempo,” she was still promoting a message from the era when she was single-handedly advocating for body positivity, especially in rap. To be sure, her “Tempo” verse, “All the thick girls down on the flrrr/Ice on my neck like brrr/I’m big-boned with nice curves/Look at me, I know I look grrrd,” could have easily been pulled from one of her late 90s/early 00s tracks. As a matter of fact, Elliott was doing the unthinkable during this period: acting like a woman with confidence “despite” how she looked. To the point where she had the “audacity” to translate that confidence into sexual prowess in a song like “One Minute Man.” The track she tongue-in-cheekly chose to open her performance with at the Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show. After all, what woman who invested this much effort (and money) into her boudoir appearance would possibly want a “minute man” in the bedroom?
As the third single from one of her most seminal albums, Miss E… So Addictive, Elliott performed elements of “One Minute Man” during the 2001 MTV Video Music Awards, along with the album’s lead single, “Get Ur Freak On.” A signature single she also chose to showcase at the VS Fashion Show (and with a not totally dissimilar backdrop that features a giant effigy of her face at one point; granted, to “mix up” the VS performance, Elliott also incorporated some green lasers à la Jennifer Lopez’s “Waiting For Tonight” video). Because, yes, once again, Elliott tailored the music selection to the notion of boudoir confidence—something that apparently isn’t a challenge for her to do when realizing that a large portion of her oeuvre is sexually charged. Including “Work It” (“Call me before you come/I need to shave my cho-cha” being just one of many bedroom-oriented lyrics in that particular hit), which Elliott dived into after “Get Ur Freak On.” And, unquestionably, the music all sounds just as fresh as ever. Which is part of why it’s rather a pity that it was paraded with such fanfare at this particular spectacle of the stick figures.
In any case, Elliott took the audience right back to the 2000s in more ways than one during the fashion show. Not only with the onstage visuals and “soundtrack,” but the sanctioning of a body type and image that was once most at home in that decade. Alas, it has since bled out into the 2020s (in no small part thanks to Ozempic). For it is with Elliott’s presence alone—her agreement to promote her music at such an event—that she has sanctioned it. Not to mention shamelessly hollering, “Say what?! Victoria’s Secret!” at the end of her final song, “Lose Control” (a command that is actually the last thing America needs to be told right now).
Interestingly enough, Elliott revamped the original phrase at the beginning of “Get Ur Freak On” from “Give me some new shit” to “We on some new shit.” But based on what was seen at the reanimated Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show this year, society isn’t on any new shit whatsoever. Still touting not only the same impossible body standards from decades ago, but also the same music. Talk about hauntology.
