Chapter 24: The Lingerie War 1.0

Question: How many newspapers can resist the power of money?
Answer: Zero!
When the revenue from a single advertisement equals that of a hundred others, even if an editor refuses to run it, the owner will force their hand; even if the owner refuses, the shareholders will force theirs. Naturally, this assumes Logan wasn't targeting strictly conservative newspapers—those publications exist not for profit, but to preach ideology, and they are best left alone. In any case, Logan spent half his investment on a massive advertising "blitz."

And so, on that day, over a dozen newspapers covering nearly the entire United States carried the same large-scale advertisement: a photograph of Annie swinging, wearing nothing but a Victoria's Secret bra. Beneath the image, a whimsical caption read: "I dreamed I had a swinging time in my Victoria's Secret bra."

Yes, the lingerie brand Logan launched was called "Victoria's Secret." Regardless of the inspiration behind it, the name easily evoked the image of "Queen Victoria's Secret"—and heaven knows how obsessed Americans were with their British cousins at the time! This was part of a series titled "I dreamed I did... in my Victoria's Secret bra," featuring beautiful women wearing the lingerie while performing mundane daily tasks. Yet, when these "mundane tasks" hit the newsstands, they became scandalous.

From the East Coast to the West, the American public was blindsided by this advertising shockwave. On Wall Street, financiers accustomed to the turbulent waves of numbers choked on their coffee upon seeing the full-page ad. Gentlemen on the street, unfolding their papers, were so shocked that their spectacles slipped from their noses, their mouths agape wide enough to swallow an egg. Some women, upon seeing the ad, subconsciously traced the contours of the exquisite lingerie against their own bodies. Their initial shock quickly gave way to a strange, subtle flicker of envy and desire in their eyes, and they would mutter to themselves, "My God... what must it feel like... to wear something like that?"

Angry denunciations, hypocritical criticisms, hidden curiosity, and muffled snickers turned city streets into exhibitions of social discord. That day, people stopped discussing politics or entertainment; all conversation was eerily focused on those few scraps of fabric and the curves beneath them. Then, a storm of outrage swept the nation. Telegraph lines were busier than ever, and stern letters of protest flooded the "depraved" newspaper offices like a blizzard. Among all the cities, perhaps only Chicago and New York remained relatively calm.

Chicago was already "enlightened"—they had seen women appearing in newspapers wearing nothing at all, so this was tame by comparison. As for New York, what hadn't the city seen? Every street had its artists, and every artist had painted a nude; this was nothing!

In Boston, however, a city founded by Puritans with strict moral codes, the murmurs in the streets ignited into a roaring fire. In front of the newspaper building that had published the ad, crucifixes and religious icons were held high like glaring battle standards. Faces twisted with indignation, the crowd echoed the shouts of the orator at the front: "We stand on Puritan soil! We shall not allow such filth to run rampant here!" "Defend morality!" "Protect our womenfolk!"

A dozen police officers stood before the newspaper office, trying to keep the protesters at bay. As the crowd grew, they began chanting slogans like "Drag them out instead of stopping us!" and "Shame on you!" while pushing against the police line. An old-fashioned citizen thrust the newspaper page into the face of a young officer, demanding, "Are you condoning this filth?" The officer’s young face showed a flash of dismissal; he muttered, "Isn't it just a lingerie ad? I think the design is quite reasonable..."

This casual remark acted as a fuse. The citizen roared, "They are indeed condoning the filth!" He then signaled the crowd, "Charge!" The mob erupted like a volcano. The police line collapsed instantly, and the officers were swept away like duckweed in a surging tide. The newspaper doors were smashed open, the crowd poured in like a dam breaking, and the staff fled in a panic.

Inside, copies of the paper lay open, featuring the woman in the lingerie. Someone pulled out a lighter, a sharp click followed by a flicker of blue flame leaping onto the paper. The crowd cheered in unison, "Burn it! Burn it!" The ad pages were engulfed by tongues of fire; the "sinful" images and provocative text twisted, blackened, and curled in the heat before crumbling into ash.

The firelight danced on their faces, reflecting the religious fervor in their eyes as if a sacrificial cleansing were underway. They threw every newspaper they found into the pyre, and the flames soared higher. Before long, the fire consumed bundles of paper, desks, chairs, and hungrily licked at the ink and walls.

At that point, the fire spiraled out of control. Now it was the turn of the protesters to flee in terror. Thick smoke billowed, the fire spread, and the scent of burnt paper and ink engulfed the building. Police scrambled to evacuate the crowd, and the sirens of fire engines wailed in the distance—sharp and piercing, but like a tardy dirge, powerless to stop this "fire of justice." The smoke obscured half the Boston sky, shocking every citizen in the city.

Could anything be more absurd than an advertisement for lingerie triggering a massive fire that consumed an entire building? Yes! People across the country cheered for the blaze, calling it a "fire of justice" that would deter purveyors of filth. Meanwhile, the newspaper owner immediately announced he would sue the arsonists, a move that also received widespread support.

A local reporter wrote: "Bostonians once sparked a war of independence over a tea party; now, will they ignite a 'Lingerie War' over a newspaper fire sparked by an ad?"

"I am deeply saddened and regret the fire at the newspaper, and I strongly condemn the arsonists," Logan told a reporter from *The Sun* with a pained expression. When asked about the "Lingerie War" theory, he replied solemnly, "No one wants to see a war started over a piece of lingerie. We only wish to benefit women and will do everything in our power to avoid conflict."

However, employees later claimed that as they passed Logan’s office, they heard him emitting the unbridled, triumphant laughter of a war profiteer hearing that a war had just begun. Such descriptions, of course, are the stuff of conspiracy theories.