FASHION SPOTLIGHT

CHAIN

REACTION

Look inside the long-standing relationship between Victoria's Secret and the Control Devil.

By Alana Sierra

It should come as no surprise that Makima wears Victoria's Secret like a uniform. The Control Devil's on-screen friendship with the brand never technically happened—she never shot a single episode of Chainsaw Man in lingerie. But the bridal collection she fronted earlier this year, a capsule of ivory lace and pearl-trimmed straps, changed the conversation anyway. Public Safety approved the contract. Makima signed. No one asked what she got out of it.

Her off-screen relationship with the brand began the way most things do with Makima: she noticed them first. Victoria's Secret had spent years pivoting away from "Angels" toward a broader definition of power. They needed a face that didn't perform softness. They needed someone who had never once apologized for being in control. The fitting took three hours. The photographer's assistant cried twice. Makima never explained why.

"I love everything they've done recently," she says, running a thumb along the edge of a pearl clasp. "Whether it's a campaign or a runway, the brand just knows what kind of shape tells the story you want to tell. Not everyone understands that clothes can be chains. Victoria's Secret does."

The feeling is mutual. A senior designer, speaking on condition of anonymity, says: "What makes Makima so unsettling is that she's a professional. A force. It's always about what's next. Not to mention she really understands restraint—how much skin to show, how much to leave to the imagination. She doesn't need to perform vulnerability. She just stands there, and you feel watched."

The design team sat down with Makima to help her pick pieces for the bridal campaign's centerpiece shoot earlier this spring. She also got to preview the upcoming winter collection, which will make its quiet debut in Tokyo next month. A tribute to the concept of ownership—the tension between giving yourself away and never belonging to anyone—the winter range is the designer's first statement lingerie collection since the brand's rebrand.

And of course, Makima loves it.

"I love this theme," she says, holding a piece of bridal silk up to the light. "It's one of those things that you get philosophical about. To know that these pieces will go into people's bedrooms and live there forever, worn for someone else's gaze but chosen by themselves. That's really something." She pauses. "Control isn't about what you take. It's about what they give you without realizing it."

"For those who understand the difference between giving yourself away and letting someone believe they took you."

The photographer didn't know what to do with her. No smile. No coy tilt of the head. Just stillness. Just presence.

They ran the images anyway. The campaign sold out in a week.