| Jul. 3rd, 2008 @ 07:49 am What not to tell me about what I wear. |
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There's a TV show called What Not To Wear.
I don't have a functioning TV with reception - when I watch shows, it's in some recorded format, which gives me the unusual gift of being able to look at commercials and think, "How cleverly manipulative! They're using this and this! That was genuinely witty!" instead of "Oh, god, not that $(*&(Q$& commercial again, quick, where's the mute button, I can never find it on this thing."
I have not watched What Not To Wear in recorded format, however. I know about it because my supervisor loves it and has told me about it in excessive detail. She has described the two fashion agents of the show, the structure every show follows, the funny, pathetic scenes at the beginning of Kate (?) and Clinton dramatically throwing Every Single Garment the person owned into a big trash can, while the person wails and protests and clings to badly made, moth-eaten sweaters, and blouses with rhinestones glue-gunned onto them. She tells me how they demonstrate to the person what's wrong with every garment, always finding positive things to say about the person's body type and preferences, and how they cover every demographic in different shows. She tells m how every show, the person is then give $5000 and set loose in NYC to shop for a new wardrobe, and the camera follows them the first day as they are overwhelmed and bewildered and cannot cope or gravitate back to their rhinestone standbys, or whatever, and how Kate (?) and Clinton watch the films and comment on them despairingly, and then the next day take the person in hand and help them find a new wardrobe which flatters their bodies and suits their preferences and needs.
I have, in fact, after listening to all this and nodded and smiled a lot, eventually pointed out that if they're all this similar, they must be scripted/coached, and that it seems wildly unlikely that there are not some slightly different terms being cut off camera from what's being shown on. My supervisor has nodded knowingly, and then gone back to telling me how funny and touching this or that scene was.
I am currently possessed of a desire to sockpuppet myself several times over and write to the show telling them they should approach this Calluna V. person, just to A: see what they do with some of the limits *I* would set, since they're notable for how accommodating they are/can be while still improving a person's wardrobe and dressing sense a thousandfold, B: journal about the whole thing, C: Get $5000 to buy new clothes that I like.
I think that if they're trying to cover every demographic, then they *should* have an overeducated, fat, bisexual social worker-to-be who refuses to wear make-up, any clothing that restricts her freedom of movement, or any hair style she can't recreate for herself, who says, "Feel free to throw anything you like in your trash can in front of the camera, but items X, Y, and Z are coming home with me, off camera. I assume that you have accommodations for that kind of thing since most people would have some things they're not willing to get rid of," and "I'll act surprised, shocked, offended, embarrassed, or whatever you like, but I'm not going to wail and clutch at things. Have some sense. If I sign your contract, then I know what's coming and have agreed to it, so why would I then throw a tantrum about it when you do what I already knew you were going to do?"
And so forth.
I won't, of course. It's just a bitchy little fantasy.
It's fun to imagine, though.
ETA: The woman's name is Stacy. I couldn't imagine where I'd gotten "Kate" for a minute, and then, when I did, I had hysterics. |
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