How To Become A Victoria Secret Model

So, you want to become a Victoria’s Secret model? First, let’s be honest: you probably don’t want this. You want the money, the wings, and the free lingerie. But the actual job? It’s less glamorous than you think—think 4 a.m. call times and eating only the green part of your salad.

Step One: Win the Genetic Lottery (Sorry)

Let’s rip the Band-Aid off right now. The primary requirement is being born with parents who look like Greek gods. Your body needs to be roughly 5’10” with legs that appear to start at your armpits. This is not a meritocracy; it’s a biological crapshoot.

Surprising fact: Most Angels have a torso-to-leg ratio that defies human anatomy. A typical Victoria’s Secret model’s inseam is longer than your entire body. If you’re under 5’8”, you’re basically considered a “petite elf” by their standards.

But What About the Diet?

You’ve heard the rumors: models eat nothing but kale and tears. Strangely true. Many survive on a strict regimen of steamed vegetables and pure anxiety. A common “snack” is a single almond, chewed fifty times to trick your brain into thinking it’s a full meal.

One time, a model confessed she drank only black coffee and cried for an hour before a show—it apparently “de-puffs” your face. Fun! Don’t worry, you’ll get used to the hangry feeling. It becomes a permanent personality trait.

Step Two: Master the Walk of Ridiculousness

The runway walk isn’t a walk. It’s a rhythmic hip-shift that looks like you’re trying to knock a bee out of your ear while balancing a book on your head. But the secret weapon is the “Angles Walk”—a move where you snap your legs past each other like a pair of scissors.

Pro tip: You must make eye contact with the audience as if you just caught them reading your diary. It’s supposed to be “fierce.” In reality, it looks like you’re one wrong move away from dislocating a pelvis. Practice in your living room. Your cat will be deeply confused.

Wings: The Nightmare Accessory

Everyone thinks the wings are glamorous. They are fifteen-pound wire contraptions designed to stab you in the spine. During one show, a model’s wing caught fire from a sparkler on stage. She just kept walking because “the show must go on.”

You’ll also wear shoes with a built-in torture device called a “heel.” The official shoe has a six-inch stiletto that bends your foot into a 45-degree angle. Walking in them is like trying to jog on a tightrope while wearing ski boots.

Step Three: Become a Professional Smiler (And Hater)

You must smile like you’re genuinely happy to be there, even when your feet are bleeding into the carpet. The “Victoria’s Secret Smile” is a specific muscle twitch—lips parted, teeth slightly showing, eyes half-closed as if you’re smelling a really good cappuccino.

But here’s the trick: You also need to look like you’re secretly judging everyone in the room. It’s a delicate balance between “friendly goddess” and “I will steal your boyfriend.” The training for this expression takes months. Some models practice in the mirror until they look genuinely unhinged.

The Backstage Culture

Backstage is a war zone. There are sixty women in various states of undress, a thousand hair products, and one bathroom. The atmosphere is 80% protein shakes and 20% silent competition. You’ll hear whispers like, “Did she get the pink robe?” (The pink robe means you’re the favorite. It’s basically the Hunger Games of bras.)

Oh, and you’re expected to do 100 squats right before walking. This is called “pumping out” to make your butt look rounder. You’ll do them in your underwear while a makeup artist applies glitter to your eyeballs. It’s chaos. Beautiful, terrifying chaos.

The Final Requirement: A Superhuman Ego

You must believe, with every fiber of your being, that you are the most important person in the room. This is non-negotiable. If you hesitate for a second, the other models will smell it like sharks smell blood. Confidence is 90% of the job—the other 10% is not tripping over your own feet.

Surprising fact: Many Angels have admitted to having crippling impostor syndrome. But they fake it so well that they’ve convinced the world they invented sexy. You need to do the same. Look in the mirror and say, “I am a magnificent, terrifying butterfly.”

But Seriously, Don’t Do This

Honestly, becoming a Victoria’s Secret model is a terrible idea. You’ll lose your ability to enjoy bread. Your back will hurt forever. And you’ll spend your 30s explaining to your kids why you have that weird walking tic. Instead, buy the underwear, eat a pizza, and walk around your house like a drunken penguin. It’s way more fun.

And if you still want to try? Start stretching. Buy a pair of six-inch heels. And prepare to eat a lot of sad, sad lettuce. Good luck, you beautiful lunatic.