Last night marked the second Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show since its six-year hiatus, and it was star-studded, to say the least. The 2019 production was canceled after years of criticism about the show’s lack of inclusivity. The brand had become the epitome of outdated beauty standards and was essentially synonymous with airbrushed malnourishment. But VS promised to reimagine itself, and last night’s show was a flashy attempt.
Original Angels like Adriana Lima, Jasmine Tookes, and Lily Aldridge took the stage alongside newcomers—most notably athletes and influencers like Quenlin Blackwell, Angel Reese, and Gabriela Moura. But this mixed casting news was met with internet complaints before the first-timers could even strap on a set of bedazzled wings.
Users flooded comment sections with their rants about the lineup, including but not limited to “What happened to actual models walking the runway?” and “Of course, VS is making it an influencer show.” But let’s keep things in perspective: Victoria’s Secret isn’t trying to put on a Dior-level haute couture show. This was no high-fashion runway, and Anna Wintour wasn’t seated front row. With all due respect, this brand sells 5-for-$30 thongs, and some of the models at their show were wearing matching PINK sets. So why are we acting like representation and inclusion could somehow cheapen its reputation?
I’d first like to note that the content creators we saw walk this year’s runway weren’t your standard NYC micro-influencers with 100K followers. I mean, Quenlin Blackwell and Gabriela Moura are multi-hyphenates with engaged, legitimate audiences and serious cultural pull (and they happen to have more followers than some of the “professional” models).
If social media had existed in its current form in the early 2010s (at the height of the VSFS’s popularity), every OG Angel would’ve been active on TikTok. Successful models have always relied on maintaining clout, setting trends, and being seen. Hence why household names like Cindy Crawford, Naomi Campbell, and Tyra Banks were some of the original influencers.
And most of today’s top models are part-time social media influencers anyway—shelling out products on Instagram and doing brand deals just like everyone else you see while scrolling through your FYP. Why are we acting as though traditional models are a marginalized group and that creators and athletes are somehow taking their opportunities away?
My colleague Cosmo shopping editor Hannah Oh attended the 2025 show, and when I caught up with her afterward, she noted that the influencers walking the runway didn’t detract from the program’s overall quality—in fact, they enhanced it.
“The OG angels and models like the Hadids and Anok Yai were insane to watch in real life—you could tell this is their craft and they were magnetic,” she says. “It’s expected that they’d have the best walks, but honestly, I had no idea there were influencers in the show. I just assumed they were newer models or celebrities I didn’t recognize. At the end of the day, I have no issue with [influencers in the show] as long as they make sense for the brand. Plus, they brought their A-game, and the crowd was definitely excited to see them.”
The uproar about the content creators walking feels reminiscent of a similar online pushback about a decade ago when Bella and Gigi Hadid were first cast in the show. Back then, they were dismissed as influencers and nepo babies undeserving of the VS wings. Since, they’ve become the brand’s most recognizable faces and a couple of the most beloved models in the industry.
When Victoria’s Secret’s primary focus was on white, thin, six-foot models, people (rightfully) called it out. But now that the brand has embraced racial diversity and a wider variety of body shapes and has brought relatable names we know and love from our FYP into the mix, certain naysayers have an issue with the fact that it’s less “glamorous.” It seems like “glamourous” is code for whatever skinny, hyper-edited fantasy would cater to the male gaze. For some reason, these commentators want to keep this show’s dated guardrails intact, no matter which regressive beauty standards and ideologies that’d be in favor of.
Everyone starts somewhere (unless you were born into supermodel royalty and inherited money and connections). Whether that’s on your TikTok feed, in a local ad, on the Olympics stage, or on a Cosmo cover, we shouldn’t be tearing Victoria’s Secret apart for scouting talent straight from our feeds—and actually further diversifying their Angel lineup in the process. By filling up this year’s cast with a few viral personas, the brand is keeping up with the moment and meeting their audience where they’re at: online. And as a proponent of mending insufferable beauty standards and someone who will never relate to Bella Hadid’s body type, I find the use of other public figures who aren’t everyday models—who still have incredible bodies—refreshing. It’s the type of relatability and confidence we all deserve to see reflected in lingerie campaigns and on the runway.
