So, Victoria’s Secret sells underwear with my name on it (of course, I bought a pair – it’s got my name on it! I don’t need some other broad wandering around with my name emblazoned on her delicates) and while I appreciate the gesture, I’d be remiss if I didn’t break the bad news.
See, Victoria’s Secret makes its money off of sexy girls — Gisele, Alessandra, Adriana, Miranda — and Jaime is simply not a sexy girl.
Sorry, dudes. But it’s true. Trust me.
A Gisele is the kind of girl who would inspire you to write her name in gasoline on your lawn a la American Beauty.
A Jaime is the kind of girl who pumps your gas while you go inside the gas station and get her a Diet Coke and soft pretzel.
An Alessandra is the kind of girl you get all tongue-tied around – Stumbling, stammering and stuttering at the mere notion of asking her on a date.
A Jaime is the kind of girl you call with, “Hey! Come over! Bring food!”
An Adriana is the kind of girl who inspires Neruda-esque poetry. The moon living in the lining of her skin and all.
A Jaime is the kind of girl who tries to help you get through the poetry unit in English class before throwing up her hands and declaring that you are too goddamn stupid to understand iambic pentameter. And then, she sits back down and tries to explain it again (Da-DUM, dummy. Da-DUM).
A Miranda is the kind of girl who inspires vivid, sweaty, sheet-tangling dreams.
See, a Jaime is the kind of girl who is always down to get Chipotle, can’t figure out why anyone would use cheek stain (it makes you look like you have wicked rosacea), but will pontificate endlessly on why Wesley Wyndham-Pryce is the most interesting character in the Buffyverse, why Biggie is a better rapper than Tupac, why Dramarama should have been one of the seminal power pop acts of the 80s and why you should give country music another chance because the old stuff by Hank Williams, Loretta Lynn and Patsy Cline? It’s pretty great – gritty, pretty and heartwrenching.And you know what? People who dismiss entire genres of music are close-minded dicks.
Sorry Victoria’s Secret — a Jaime is not a sexy girl. She’s geeky, knows more about pop culture minutiae than anyone really should and is likely to steal french fries off your plate.
Better luck next time. Hey! Try the name Mila. I’ve yet to meet a guy who didn’t stop short at the mere mention of Miss Kunis.