Back in 2009, mall lingerie behemoth Victoria’s Secret held a contest to determine their next Angel, because humans love rewarding other humans for a bottomless lack of skill. Anyway, the winner of that contest was Kylie Bisutti, who beat out 10,000 other buxom ladies with big hair for the coveted role. Bisutti thought her dreams had come true.
…Unfortunately, those dreams were nightmares!
The devout Christian was absolutely shocked to find that underwear modeling wasn’t near as wholesome as she expected. No, being an Angel wasn’t all deeply silly costumes and winking at the ends of runways–sometimes one had to pose suggestively.
The now-23 year old has a book coming out, I’m No Angel, which is a title that works on two levels. As part of her promotional duties, she filed a piece yesterday for the New York Post, explaining just how awful being an Angel was, despite her becoming rich and famous for absolutely no reason. The piece begins like so:
I’m lying on a bed wearing a tight, little T-shirt and boy-cut panty bottoms while camera flashes keep popping away. I’m giving the camera that seductive, bombshell look I’d become famous for.
“Pull the top further up,” the FHM photographer encouraged me. “Hold up the covers like you don’t have any panties on.”
Well, obviously that’s gross. But did she really expect her FHM shoot would be any different? We would have anticipated a gallon of baby oil and a trampoline, but we are cynical and dickish.
Things ended shortly thereafter:
The next day, I broke down and started sobbing. I was in my bedroom and dropped to my knees and started to pray. “God, why did you have me win the Victoria’s Secret Angel competition if it was going to make me feel this way? I’m not honoring my husband. I just want answers!”
That was two years ago. Today, I’m living in Montana with my husband, enjoying the fresh air and volunteering with our church.
Good for her! But Montana must be awfully boring, because in between all the Church volunteering and hoovering fresh air, Bisutti still needed to write a juicy tell-all about the corrupt world of underwear modeling.
Ahead, some other revelations we can expect from I’m No Angel.