The problem with Valentine’s Day is that it’s taken too seriously. Of course you should celebrate your love for your partner every day of the year; this is just another Christian holiday that’s been bastardised into a consumerist parade of plastic and sugar. But sometimes a distraction from the mundanity of life is good: I want to drink wine, eat chocolate and pretend that the world is covered in pink and red hearts year round. And goddamnit, I want to wear kitschy lingerie that mirrors that fantasy.
Even among Valentine’s Day fans, lingerie is a divisive topic. Some argue that it isn’t a decent gift, that it’s pointless to spend money on something that may only be worn for a few minutes before being passionately removed. Is it pointless, then, to select a coordinating paper and ribbon and conceal a present with care, too? Or buy a bouquet of flowers that will soon wilt? I feel sorry for you if you think so. We’ve been celebrating this day with feasts since the 8th century, and sending bouquets and sweets and incorporating the symbols of hearts and winged Cupids since the 18th. Wanting to dress yourself in a manner coordinating with the theme is only a natural extension of how we’ve enjoyed holiday traditions for centuries.
This year, many brands have released lines of lingerie that leans into the holiday at its campiest, like the kind widely worn during the late 80s and early 90s, all ruffles and satin. Playboy released a recreation of the corset and stockings set worn by Pamela Anderson in her 1991 Miss February cover shoot. The new set is almost identical to the original: a white, deep-cut strapless corset top with a sheer ruffle at the cups, sprinkled with a red heart pattern across. In the newly released set, the hearts are paired with red Playboy bunny symbols (a neutral pattern, in the same manner as cheetah or leopard print). It’s fitting, at a time when women are reclaiming the campy, Playboy aesthetic, the kind that’s also evident in the hot pink heart and ruffle-adorned pieces from brands like Fleur de Mal, Agent Provocateur and fur and teddies galore from the aptly named Trashy. The overall commitment to maximalist features of the past is a reminder that Valentine’s Day is inherently gaudy, and it’s more fun for it.
But these trends in fashion aren’t just evolving from nothing. Rather, they’re stemming from a broader nostalgia for these prior eras in music, television and the culture writ large — and a desire to reconsider how sexuality has evolved in the time since. It’s no coincidence that one of Pamela Anderson’s famous outfits would be having a moment now, in light of the release of both her documentary and memoir earlier this month. With this, Pamela has reframed the public consumption of her sexuality, the narrative of which has been historically shaped by everyone but Pamela herself. But never has she positioned being sexy or displaying desire as something negative. Instead, it can continue to be something pleasurable, powerful — even playful and unserious — when put into our own hands. In revisiting the aesthetics of Pamela Anderson’s past through contemporary lingerie, it’s as if we’re re-contextualising the performance of eroticism. Now, the audience is ourselves.
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Even among contemporary brands that maintain a more classic and reliable reputation, detail and indulgence remain the theme. Honey Birdette, for example, creates ornate sets that give attention to the beauty of the piece itself, rather than relying on what might look the most flattering or comfortable on the body. Victoria’s Secret and their collaboration with For Love & Lemons serves a similar purpose. In both cases, these more elaborately designed lingerie offerings — as well as the vintage-inspired ones — are a foil to much of the simplistic, “clean girl” aesthetic that has proliferated as of late, or the pared back sets brands had championed in recent years as a capitalistic take on ‘feminist’ lingerie. With this, the underlying agenda is always to streamline oneself, to present a persona as free from mess or distraction or anything “extra” for the sake of a smoother performance in the capitalistic sphere. This obviously is not to say that buying frilly lingerie is some sort of anticapitalist statement — of course it isn’t. But it is, at very least, an attempt to regain some of what’s been lost by the aggressive ideology of refinement that says that everything, including our own sensuality, ought to be as flat and straightforward as possible.
Breaking up the monotony of each passing day with a lighthearted holiday is another method of recuperation, too. Naturally, Valentine’s Day will be as festive as you make it. One can easily celebrate the day to its fullest without buying anything new. For me, however, if I have an excuse to deck myself out in the most over the top lingerie, I’m going to do it. Any other day of the year, I typically resign myself to wearing the same black thongs I buy in bulk. I’m lucky if I even put a bra on at all. For Valentine’s Day, however, it doesn’t even matter if anyone will see it: I’m putting on that heart-covered sheer garter belt. And hopefully, in doing so, I can remind myself again that the little bit of extra effort is worth it for the joy of feeling sexy and playful in an otherwise clinical world. Valentine’s Day is indeed a silly, over-the-top holiday, and much of the lingerie dedicated to it adheres to that theme. But really, what’s so bad about that?