A Candy-Color Nighttime of Soul with Katy Perry, Paris Hilton, And the Victoria's Covert Angels

The Victoria's covert Fashion Show a gigantic, loud and lavish no-holds-barred explosion of sex and skin, wholly and apologetically resplendent, soaked in excess, overflowing with sequins, feathers, Technicolor stripes and oceans of fuchsia-tangerine blast-lighting took place last night at the 69th Regiment Armory last night.

Welcome to Club Victoria, a voice echoed over the sound system. Then the voice said to turn off all mobile devices. If you have to be on your phone during a show like this, you have other problems.

The highlights were wide and solid to accept out, or even differentiate, from the whole of the show. The Victoria's Secret models came out dressed like sailors, peacocks, cowgirls, Nascar pit crews, boxers, Amazon princesses and their ordinary angel clothe all while running to wear basically nothing at all, of course. The country club scenery featured Aryan clones sculpted like Greek statues, while jungle scenery featured dark-skinned men with face paint dancing with arms akimbo. The contiguous the thing came to irony was when the models just wore underwear.

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