When will companies Iearn that going woke isn’t a great idea, as it means that they’ll go broke sooner rather than later, or at least see their stocks and fortunes plummet? Not soon enough to not shoot themselves in the foot financially, apparentIy, as Victoria’s Secret just made the same woke mistake as innumerable companies before it and made a very bad business move rooted in wokeness.
What did it do? It replaced its astoundingly attractive “angels” with the woke, pink-haired, America-bashing soccer player Megan Rapinoe and a slew of “plus size” models.
That might have sounded great in a boardroom full of people sipping soy lattes and chowing down on kale chips, but most American women, when they buy Iingerie, don’t want to look like “plus size” models or Megan Rapinoe.
And so Victoria’s Secret stock has tumbled dramatically and the company has had to fire a slew of executives as its financial fortunes have soured, as the New York Post reported, saying, in a July of 2022 post, that the lingerie giant’s shares crashed to $26.80 and that it had Iaid off 160 management employees from its headquarters in Ohio, about 5% of its home office headcount.
That stock crash problem has continued for the brand, as the Iingerie giant’s stock is, as of the time this article was updated (January 12, 2024), just $24.23. When 2022 began, it’s stock price was still over $56, and the crash began in February of that year and has more or less continued since.
In any case, why might the stock crash have happened and the firings have been necessary? Well the NYP hints at the same issues mentioned above, saying (emphasis added), “Now it offers plus sizes and features plus-size models in its marketing as well as selling masectomy bras for the first time. It also Iaunched its first-ever Mother’s Day campaign last year.
Its stores are brighter and it’s championing more causes highlighting women’s achievements, tapping famous athletes Iike Megan Rapinoe and actress Priyanka Chopra Jonas to represent the brand.
MY FIVE KIDS COMPLETELY FORGOT ABOUT MY 93RD BIRTHDAY — I SPENT IT ALONE UNTIL THE DOORBELL RANG
The old house, usually echoing with the phantom sounds of laughter and the clatter of family dinners, was unnervingly silent. Arnold, his 93 years etched into the lines of his face, sat in his favorite armchair, the fading afternoon light casting long shadows across the room. He had meticulously prepared for this day, his birthday, a milestone he had hoped to share with the five children he and his beloved wife had raised.
He had sent out invitations, not just any invitations, but handwritten letters, each one filled with the warmth of his love and the anticipation of their reunion. He longed to see their faces, to hear their voices, not through the cold, impersonal medium of a phone call, but in person, with hugs and shared stories.
The morning had begun with a flutter of excitement, each distant car sound a potential herald of their arrival. He had set the dining table, five empty chairs waiting patiently, each one a silent testament to the love he held for his children. But as the hours ticked by, the excitement waned, replaced by a gnawing sense of disappointment.
He tried calling, his fingers trembling as he dialed each number. Voicemail after voicemail, each unanswered call a tiny pinprick to his heart. It dawned on him, with a chilling clarity, that he would be spending this special day alone, a solitary figure in a house filled with memories.
He stared at the empty chairs, his mind drifting back to the days when they were filled with the boisterous energy of his children, their laughter echoing through the house, their faces alight with joy. He remembered birthdays past, filled with homemade cakes and silly games, with hugs and kisses and whispered “I love yous.”
The silence in the house grew heavier, pressing down on him like a physical weight. He felt a pang of loneliness, a deep ache in his heart. He had always been a man of resilience, a man who found joy in the simple things. But today, the silence was deafening, the loneliness unbearable.
He rose from his armchair, his movements slow and deliberate, and walked to the window. The sun was setting, casting a warm, golden glow across the garden. He watched as the shadows lengthened, stretching across the lawn like long, reaching fingers.
Just as he was about to turn away, a sound pierced the silence. The doorbell rang, a sharp, insistent chime that startled him. He hesitated, his heart pounding in his chest. Could it be?
He walked to the door, his footsteps echoing in the empty hallway. He opened the door, and his breath caught in his throat.
Standing on the porch were not his five children, but a group of young people, their faces filled with warmth and kindness. They were his neighbors, the ones he had waved to over the years, the ones he had shared a kind word with.
“Mr. Arnold,” a young woman said, her voice gentle, “we heard it was your birthday. We wanted to wish you a happy birthday.”
Behind her, a young man held a large cake, its candles flickering in the evening breeze. Others held balloons and small gifts.
Arnold’s eyes filled with tears. He was overwhelmed, touched by their unexpected gesture of kindness. He had been so focused on his children, on the family he had created, that he had overlooked the community around him, the people who cared.
They came inside, filling the house with laughter and chatter. They sang “Happy Birthday,” their voices a chorus of warmth and affection. They shared stories and memories, their presence a comforting balm to his loneliness.
As the evening wore on, Arnold felt a sense of peace settling over him. He realized that family wasn’t just about blood, it was about connection, about shared experiences, about the kindness of strangers.
He looked at the young people around him, their faces glowing in the candlelight, and he knew that he wasn’t alone. He had a community, a network of support, a family of friends.
He blew out the candles on his cake, a small smile playing on his lips. He had spent his 93rd birthday alone, but he hadn’t spent it lonely. He had learned a valuable lesson that day: that even in the face of disappointment, there is always kindness, there is always connection, there is always hope. And that, he realized, was a gift more precious than any he could have received from his children.
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