I can't deny it any longer. I've been hiding in the shadows for so long hoping that nobody would find out. Shame overwhelms me when I least expect it and cripples me under its weight. I feel like I simply can't function normally anymore unless I let it out. I. LOVE. AMERICA'S. NEXT. TOP. MODEL.
Yes, I do. Me. An educated, sensible (mostly), 33+year old mother and wife. I wait for it. I plan around it. The Husband and I order pizza, crack open a bottle of vino and sit back to judge.
I feel better now, thank you.
How can you not love a show where under-educated, over-confident young ladies (and I use the term loosely), fight with feline ferocity (read: cattily) to win a completely empty title? Because really, the show is all about Tyra. In fact, this year, they have given up even trying to pretend that the show is about anything else. They've gone so far as to decorate the house that the participants are staying in exclusively with pictures of Tyra.
Fortunately for her, she's amusing. For every sob story that the prospectives models have, Tyra has a story of equal or greater pathos. It's fascinating. It's reality TV at it's best. For those who watch this show, you know whereof I speak. For those who don't -- what are you waiting for? Sit back, grab some junk food, and garner the pearls of wisdom that ANTM has to offer -- with a little adjustment , you'll find that they apply to everyday life:
- All good models should be able to walk.
- It's not alright to be anorexic, but it's not alright to be fat either
- If you aren't willing to cut your hair, you're a suck.
- If you aren't willing to pose naked, you should throw in the towel.
- Real competition is about winning, not making friends.
- If you disagree with Tyra, you won't make it as a model.
- If you can copy Tyra's moves, you will make as a model.
Now, with content like that, how could you possibly argue that this isn't Great TV? It's the one show that actually makes me feel glad that I'm not incredibly beautiful or super skinny. I revel in it. I wallow in it. I'm happier than a pig in -- well, you know. Let's face it, I have enough reality in, well, real life, that I don't need to see it on my TV. Throw in a truly original snarky comment by some 18 year old bubblehead, and you've made my week.