In the gilded halls of lingerie history, few names evoke as much cultural tension as Victoria’s Secret—once the empire of runway angels and push-up bras, now a company fighting to redefine its legacy. This month, the brand’s board has gone public with its reasons for rejecting Australian billionaire Brett Blundy, whose BBRC International holds a 13 percent stake and is pushing to unseat two directors. But this is not merely a boardroom skirmish; it’s a clash of ethical lineages.
Victoria’s Secret, which emerged from the shadow of its former parent L Brands—a company long haunted by allegations of a toxic, male-dominated culture—now positions itself as a reformed institution. The board’s November letter to Blundy cites his pattern of hiring executives with histories of sexual harassment as a reputational risk, a pointed reference to the very sins the brand has spent years trying to shed. In an industry where the corset once symbolized constraint, Victoria’s Secret is attempting to unbind itself from its past.
Blundy’s own intimates label, Léays—a direct competitor—adds another layer of intrigue. The board alleges that a senior BBRC employee posed as a Victoria’s Secret affiliate to pilfer sales data from stores, a move that echoes the corporate espionage of 19th-century corset makers who stole pattern drafts. While Blundy dismisses the accusations as distractions, the board insists his appointment would threaten the momentum of CEO Hillary Super’s turnaround—a strategy that has already delivered a 152 percent shareholder return.
As shareholders prepare to vote on June 11, the question lingers: Can a brand that once sold fantasy now sell integrity? The answer may determine whether Victoria’s Secret’s next chapter is one of redemption or repetition.
Originally reported by WWD