Does Lex Wexner Still Own Victoria Secret

You know that moment when you’re digging through your closet, looking for that one black dress you swear you own, and you pull out a pair of faded Victoria’s Secret sweatpants from 2014? Yeah, me too. It makes you wonder: who’s really in charge of this empire of lace and bombshell bras these days? Is it still the guy who built it, or did he ghost the brand like that Tinder date who said “I’ll text you later” and never did?

Let’s be real—Lex Wexner isn’t exactly a household name like, say, “the guy who explains your 401(k) at a party.” But for decades, he was the king of the mall, the mastermind behind everything from your mom’s favorite pink lotion to that shirt you bought for a wedding and wore exactly once. So, does he still own it now? The short answer is no, and it’s a story that feels like a corporate soap opera you accidentally get hooked on at 2 a.m.

Back in 2020, Wexner stepped down from his role as chairman and CEO, and it was a bigger deal than your friend who says they’re “quitting carbs” every New Year. He sold off a massive chunk of his ownership, and the company got bought by a firm called Sycamore Partners. Think of it like selling your vintage Mustang to a dealership because you’re tired of having to explain why the check engine light is always on.

But here’s the punchline: Wexner doesn’t own Victoria’s Secret anymore, not really. He still holds some shares—about a 5% stake, which is like saying you “own” a slice of pizza you left in the fridge for a week. Technically it’s yours, but nobody’s excited about it. He’s basically the guy who remembers the password to the company Netflix account, but nobody asks him for it.

The Mall of My Childhood Is Now a Wistful Memory

I remember walking past Victoria’s Secret as a teenager, and it felt like entering a sacred temple for adults. The lights were dim, the music was thumping, and the mannequins looked like they could bench-press your car. Wexner was the wizard behind the curtain, and we all bought into the fantasy. But then the internet happened, and suddenly you could buy a bralette from a brand called “CozyLuxe” for ten bucks. The magic kinda fizzled.

By the time Wexner left, the brand was struggling like a middle-aged dad trying to learn TikTok dances. His connection to Jeffrey Epstein, who was his financial advisor for years, didn’t help. It was like finding out your favorite uncle had a second, very weird life. The whole thing turned Victoria’s Secret from “sexy angel” to “questionable family drama” faster than you can say “bombshell push-up.”

What Happened Next Is Like Watching a Slow-Motion Car Crash (But in a Good Way)

Sycamore Partners came in, did a lot of restructuring, and spun Victoria’s Secret off as its own public company in 2021. Now it’s traded on the New York Stock Exchange under the ticker “VSCO.” Yes, that’s the same as the photo app your cousin uses for her avocado toast pics. Coincidence? Probably. But it feels like the universe has a sense of humor.

Jeffrey Epstein’s Shadowy Ties to Billionaire Founder of Victoria’s

The brand changed its tune, too. No more “Angels” strutting around in wings. Instead, they hired models of all sizes, actual athletes, and even a few people who look like they’ve eaten a carb in the last decade. It’s like your old high school popular clique suddenly invited everyone to the lunch table. Good for them, but it’s a total rebrand.

So if you tried to ask Wexner for his opinion on the new “Love Cloud” collection, he’d probably look at you like you just asked him to explain a meme. He sold most of his shares and moved on to something else—probably funding a museum or buying a giant yacht named Regret. The man is worth billions, so he’s fine.

But Wait, What About the Panty Drawer? Who Decides That?

You do. That’s the weird part. When you buy a pair of underwear at VS today, you’re not paying homage to Lex Wexner. You’re paying for a logo that’s trying to be “inclusive” and “modern.” It’s like when your dad starts wearing skinny jeans and calls them “slim-fit.” You appreciate the effort, but you’re suspicious.

Here’s a funny thought: imagine Wexner walking into a Victoria’s Secret store today. He’d see “Body by Victoria” posters with plus-size models, a gender-neutral section, and a sign that says “We support all bodies.” He’d probably choke on his latte and text his accountant: “What is this, a yoga retreat?” The company he built was about fantasy, not reality. Now it’s about reality, and honestly, that’s a relief for everyone who doesn’t have a six-pack.

Ex-CEO Victoria's Secret: „Bin der Einzige, der weiß, was Frauen wollen

I have a friend, Sarah, who swore off VS after the Epstein scandal. She called it “icky,” like finding out your favorite restaurant uses canned tuna. Last week, I saw her carrying a pink bag. I stared. She shrugged and said, “They have a bra that actually fits my DDDs. I’m a hypocrite, but I’m a comfortable hypocrite.” That’s the new Victoria’s Secret: it’s trying to be a good person, but it still sells underwear.

So, Does Lex Wexner Still Own It? The Final, Boring Answer

Legally? No. He owns a tiny sliver, like the sparkle on the floor of a disco that’s been swept. He stepped back, cashed out, and the brand is now run by a board of directors who probably talk about “synergy” and “omnichannel engagement.” That’s corporate speak for “we hope you click ‘buy’ while you’re on the toilet.”

But culturally? He’s still there, like the ghost of a weird uncle at a wedding. Every time you see a pair of PINK sweatpants with “UCLA” on the butt, you remember the man who made that a thing. You can’t escape history, you know? It’s like trying to forget the time you cried over a Christmas ham. The memory sticks.

In the end, does it matter? Probably not. You’re not going to stop buying your favorite bra because of one rich guy’s exit. You’re going to buy it because it doesn’t dig into your shoulders and because the coupons keep showing up in your email. Lex Wexner is just the guy who used to own the recipe. And like a bad ex, he’s gone… but you still have his sweatpants.

And honestly? That’s fine. Just throw them in the wash and move on. You’ve got bigger things to worry about—like whether that black dress still fits.