Glamour models getting their teeth whitened and glue-gunning rhinestones to their minges; it's no wonder trashy real-life soap opera 'The Only Way Is Essex' has become essential viewing on Sundays.
I’ve fallen stupidly in love with The Only Way Is Essex, ITV’s cut-price answer to similarly trashy real-life soap operas such as The Hills and Jersey Shore, which have been so massive in the US.
Denis Van Outen provides the voiceover for each episode like she’s gossiping in a toilet cubicle at Faces, clutching a glass of rosé and giving a rundown of who is having a poke of who, which is essentially all you should give a shit about. There is a vague storyline about a girl band trying to forge a pop career but it pales in comparison to Mark, for example, who is Lauren’s ex, but now he’s going out with Lucy who is a school mate of Sam, who he’s also had a poke with and Sam is Amy’s best friend who is in the process having a poke with Kirk, but Kirk says he’ll only poke her if other men stop flirting and trying to poke her. Lost? Well then you’ll just have to watch it. Don’t worry though, they break up all that high octane drama with shots of them getting their teeth whitened and glue-gunning rhinestones to their minges.
Still, four episodes in and its groundbreaking nuggets of wisdom such as, “getting on Page 3 is like playing for Chelsea” which have me hooked. Will alpha male Mark get back with his ex Lauren, the thunder-faced reincarnate of Miss Piggy? Or will he be bludgeoned to death with a sun-bed door by his long-suffering sidekick Arg? Who can balance a pint in-between their breasts for longer- Amy or Sam? How are all these people so inexplicably rich? THESE ARE BURNING QUESTIONS!
I mean, Jesus fuck, as if ITV didn’t know a programme based on a well known stereotype, chock full of glamour models and with a frigging cold sore cream sponsorship would rile the acceptable face of snobbery
But every review I’ve read so far has been some variation of “So bad it’s good! Car crash telly! Yada, yada, etc followed by equally smug, purposely wordy reader comments. Instead of saying what they really think, ie. “They’re thick and common and this makes me feel superior” they’ve gone down the “What has become of society? I’m so morally torn up about the dumbing down of TV” route.
I mean, Jesus fuck, as if ITV didn’t know a programme based on a well known stereotype, chock full of glamour models and with a frigging cold sore cream sponsorship would rile the acceptable face of snobbery. I wonder how many people creamed their pants feeling justified that they could make sweeping generalisations about a whole county?
The thing is, yes the people in it are vacuous and materialistic and look as if they hurriedly smeared the entire Revlon counter on their face, but at the very least they’re honest. I also bet that they’re not taking the show or themselves deadly seriously. As someone that dips in and out of both worlds; chavtastic nail technician by day, pretentious writer by night, it’s the superiority complex of the latter that leaves a nasty taste in my mouth.
If it came down to it I’d rather be getting my nails did with Brentwood’s finest than guffawing with a bunch of self-righteous, olive-chomping tossers over a fucking cheeseboard.
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