Is This The Real Life?

Reality TV Reviews

I know, I know, reality television is trash and there are far more noble things to do with your time. Yes, Bill and Melinda Gates probably don't spend their afternoons watching The Only Way Is Palo Alto and eating whole packets of bourbon biscuits. However, I've recently gotten into "reality" shows in a big way, so here's my rundown of the good, the bad, and the hilarious.

Keeping Up With The Kardashians

I feel like I was intimately familiar with goings-on in the Kardashian family long before I started watching KUWTK this summer. I obligatorily disliked them just because they're filthy rich and Kim is so attractive that she's probably a Cylon. But seriously, this show is great. I feel like people should not be allowed to criticise the Kardashians before watching an episode because yes, their concerns can seem incredibly trivial compared to the issues most people face in daily life, and yes, it does sometimes seem like they have more money than sense. But there's also this over-riding sense of love for eachother, and a lot of self-awareness from Khloe and their adorable stepfather, Bruce. The show is ridiculous and trivial, but isn't that the essence of a good reality show?

★★★★

Big Rich Atlanta

This show, oh my god. I originally saw its sister project, Big Rich Texas, in which people with accents like caramel hang around at country clubs and get ill-thought-out tattoos. There's something so other-worldly about Big Rich Atlanta though, and I think part of it is the fact that the cast have had so much plastic surgery that they all basically look like clones. The show revolves around mothers and their mostly grown-up daughters doing socialite-y American things and living in obscenely gorgeous houses whilst bitching a lot and occasionally getting slapped by pastors. It kind of makes me want to wear gold lamé skinny jeans and six-foot long blonde extensions. There's also this hilariously scripted quality to the interview moments that they put between clips to explain the girls' "true feelings" that adds an extra level of shiny plasticity to the show.
★★

Masterchef Australia 

How do I love Masterchef Australia? Let me count the ways. This is SO MUCH BETTER than the UK version, and let's not even talk about the Irish one. My brother and I base our lives around the scheduling of Masterchef Australia because it is just that good. The contestants and judges are always super-happy and friendly and there are always a few contestants that you wish you could live with, not just because they could cook you jam doughnuts coated with lavender sugar when you're on your period, but because they're lovely and charismatic and unfairly attractive (ahem, season 2's Marion and season 4's Andy and Kylie). It's pretty much worth watching just for judge Matt Preston's cravat obsession, if nothing else. 

★★★★★

Made In Chelsea

I have tried to watch Made In Chelsea. I really have. It's just too staged for my liking, which probably tells you something about how patently set up it all is seeing as I gave Keeping Up With The Kardashians four stars earlier on. Basically, it's about a lot of rich people with names like Ianthe and Proudlock who go to polo matches and slap eachother sometimes. They talk a lot about someone called Lucy Watson and once, this guy had disappeared to Barcelona and then he called up his friend in Chelsea and was like, "Bring all our friends here, also my ex-girlfriend and her new boyfriend." and no one went, "But I have to work on Tuesday?" or "I can't afford last-minute flights to Barcelona?" or "Who's going to feed my cat?", they all just went. Their hair is occasionally really nice though so I'm going to give it one star for effort.
★

The Biggest Loser

I watch The Biggest Loser Australia most weekday evenings while I eat biscuits and ice cream, proudly rubbing my tummy. The show brings out conflicting feelings in me because whilst it's uplifting to see people gaining confidence and moving on to happier lives, the methods by which they get there do sometimes seem unhealthy to me (1000 calories a day whilst doing vigorous, hours-long periods of exercise? Really?). But there's so much gameplay in this show, and the inevitable brilliance of makeover week when the contestants get new haircuts and clothes and everyone pretends that the already bald guy looks really different because they trimmed his beard. The US version is pretty good but as with Masterchef, it's the Australian one that steals my heart.
★★★

Tia & Tamera

Everyone's favourite Sister Sister stars are back and ready to prove that they're still the super-cool friends you never had! The Mowry twins are in their thirties now and although I can't remember any show they've been in since their childhood, they constantly talk about their agents and auditions they've been doing. One of them is pregnant and the other already has a baby and they do other things, like try to sell a breast milk enhancing tea and help with their husband's vineyard. They are still beautiful and seem quite sweet but every single scene in this show just feels like they're trying too hard to sell how FUN and QUIRKY and TOGETHER they are, and it's just a bit too much at times. I will still devotedly watch Sister Sister but I can't quite stomach this show.
★

The Great British Bake Off

You know all those foods that you really love but never ever have in your house, like fondant fancies and chocolate eclairs and hot cross buns? Imagine sitting on the sofa and watching someone convince you that it's achievable to actually make them at home. The contestants in this show are all brilliant home cooks and they come on the show and battle to make the best Victoria sponge cake and loaf of bread and it's just great. I don't particularly like any of the judges or contestants (although Mel & Sue add some likeability) but the food alone is enough to keep me watching. Also, it's cruelly wonderful when someone's pastry burns or their sponge collapses in the middle and watching it just for those moments is kind of worth it.
★★

Galway Arts Festival

It is one of my biggest (and most first world problems-y) regrets that I missed Bon Iver when they played at the Galway Arts Festival in 2009 a couple of weeks after I saw this performance from Glastonbury on the BBC coverage. I had hit the peak of my Justin Vernon love at that point and was completely evangelical about For Emma, Forever Ago. I didn't know how popular the album was at the time (my house was still living in the stone age with no internet) so it's nice to know that I wasn't the only person who was quite literally in love with the music, with that performance in particular.

I did finally make it to the festival to see some music this year. My boyfriend got tickets to the RTÉ Concert Orchestra playing classic film scores (sort of the polar opposite of Bon Iver's folky, acoustic vibe) and we brought along a blanket and settled in on the grass under the giant, circus-like tent of the Big Top. I was a bit sceptical; I listen to a fair amount of orchestral music and scores (I keep the Skyrim soundtrack on repeat while I'm studying for exams) but I didn't know if it would hold my attention when I was seeing it live. I was completely hooked though! It was such a beautiful experience to realise all the individual elements coming together to create these massive, wildly evocative pieces of music. I was pretty overwhelmed by the time they finished the first piece, which was the Superman March. I was also experiencing endless squee over the two adorable little kids sat in front of us who pretended to be composers throughout.

It makes me think that I should get out and see more music, more art, even if it's not huge bands or plays that I know inside out. It's a better experience, I think, to find that something you were expecting to be pretty okay is actually spectacular. I wish I had more experiences like that.

New Books vs Old Favourites

I've always been an avid reader. I was the stereotypical bookworm child who spent all summer working my way through novels and magazines and newspapers. I attained the highest possible grade in my final English exam without too much effort. I even continued studying literature for the first year of university until psychology claimed my full focus. I maintain that the extra twenty five pounds of fat that I carried throughout my teenage years were a result of Friday evening trips to the library and the ensuing night spent curled up in bed pigging out on prawn and cocktail Walkers and Skittles and multiple chocolate bars and oh my god, let's not even mention the sheer volume of food that I would eat while making my way through books by Jenny Downham and J.D. Salinger and, yes, even Stephenie Meyer. 

Since starting university, however, I feel like I've hit a roadblock with my reading and don't have the same desire that I did to consume new books and spend every spare moment that I have reading. I understand why I feel like this during the academic year when I'm drowning in recommended reading for my courses and studying so much that the thought of picking up a novel after fourteen hours in the library is painful. But even now, during the summer, I feel more drawn towards old books that I read throughout my childhood or easy, lighter reads like the House Of Night series and The Princess Diaries and Tina Fey's Bossypants. It's not that these aren't good books, they are all engaging and well written and interesting (well, maybe not all of them - the House Of Night books are definitely a guilty pleasure), the problem is that I've read them all multiple times already and falling back on these old favourites stops me pursuing the classics and big new bestsellers that I feel I should as someone who purports to love literature. 

It might just be laziness, and the desire for something that reminds me of home when I'm so close to leaving everyone I know for life in a different country, but I want to get out of this habit and push myself more. I have consistently read new books this year but I would say that equally, or even more often than not, I've picked out a book that I've already read. In the past month I've used the university library more and read The Jane Austen Book Club, Female Chauvinist Pigs, Full Frontal Feminism, Never Let Me Go and some others that have all really impressed me. I'm currently reading Sense And Sensibility (I consider it a deep personal flaw that I still haven't read all of Jane Austen) and The Beauty Myth by Naomi Wolf. It's just about pushing myself out of my comfort zone and reading more of the books that I've heard great things about instead of letting myself pick up my many-thumbed copy of Harry Potter And The Chamber Of Secrets for the eight thousandth time. I'm hoping that by writing it here I'll be inspired to actually stick to this plan because I know that I'm missing so much by constantly rereading instead of discovering new books.

Self-conscious

It was that sort of tarmac-melting, inevitably sun-burning hot this past week and I celebrated my weekend off by eating lots and doing absolutely nothing productive. I had a picnic with a friend on Saturday afternoon (we talked about bullying and how friendships change over time) and went for a run in the evening, feeling self-conscious about my legging-clad thighs and greasy hair every time I passed anyone.

I sort of dislike going out and about in my hometown because it's so small and the kind of place where you'll inevitably run into thirty people you kinda-sorta know, the kind of people who would tell everyone "I saw Phoebe yesterday and she looked like she'd been dipped in chip fat!". I know that as a psychology student I should probably be aware of the fact that I judge myself far more harshly than anyone else does, that in reality no one cares about my ratty ponytail or tubby arse, but in my mind it's a really big deal every time I end up in that "Should I say hi? Should I keep looking at the pavement?" situation that seems so ridiculous as a twenty year old. I guess being home brings back all the feelings that I had over the years here at ten and thirteen and eighteen.

When I woke up on Sunday morning I felt oddly free and over it, like I could acknowledge that those issues just don't matter in the grand scheme of things. I pulled on shorts and my awful bra (the comfy saggy one that creates the illusion that I have the body of an octogenarian) and a vest and walked to a park by the river where I lay on a bench and listened to YouTube videos by Rosianna Halse Rojas (who is just achingly clever and insightful and my dreamworld best friend). I also took these photos, one of which required me to stand on a bench and another which left me sitting on a big flat rock right in the river. I let go of the feelings of "What if someone sees me and everyone thinks I'm *uncool* forever?" for an hour and it was the most peaceful I've felt in months.

The riverbed

I'm aware that the composition is craptacular but the colours are just so pretty.

I love this tree's ghoul face.

The moral of the story is to always wear awful bras and be unselfconscious.

In Defence of Millenials

I spend a lot of time reading blogs and newspapers and recently I feel as if I'm drowning in trend pieces about millenials. Whether it's berating or defending us, it seems to be widely agreed that my generation are a clatter of entitled, work-shy neoliberals who expect our parents to pay the bills while we pursue our dream careers as organic kale farmers/Hannah Horvath-style memoirists/Prancercise trainers. To me, this stereotype is like so many others: not wholly untrue but wholly incomplete.

Our generation is capitalising on creative ventures like none before, carving out careers in areas that just didn't exist twenty years ago. It's simply not possible for many of us to walk into a job fresh out of college and stay there until retirement; the current job market demands that we have a wealth of skills and experiences and can demonstrate not only our capability but our passion. Combine this with the dominant message of our childhood, that if you work hard enough then you will achieve your dreams, and it's not surprising that there are so many fledgling adults with degrees and experiences that may not leave them in a highly employable position. You're telling me that I can't pay the bills with this article I wrote about my juice cleanse?

But for all the entitled twenty-four year olds complaining about the lack of jobs there are bucketfuls of hard-working millenials who have used the internet and social media boom to their advantage. A ridiculous amount of innovative young people are thriving and acting as role models for those of us who are willing to try. There are social media tycoons like Mark Zuckerberg and Tumblr creator David Karp, video bloggers Grace Helbig and Laci Green, entrepreneurs like Shama Kabani and teenage media mogul and all-round queen of my heart Tavi Gevinson.

The stereotype of the lazy millenial also undermines the thousands of young people working hard to pursue careers in more established areas like medicine and law, those who are still competing for far fewer jobs than their Baby Boomer counterparts whilst grappling with much more student debt. In a world where traditional career paths are dwindling and university has become the expected next step after graduation, one where we grew up believing that if we wanted something enough we'd get it, is it surprising that their are people in their twenties who are distraught that their dream job hasn't become a reality yet? No. But to generalise this to the entire generation shits all over the grit of those who are supporting themselves through any means possible, those who are still trying, and those who have, against the odds, succeeded.

I'm off to sell my memoirs,

Phoebe