Bloody (faced) women....

Having a light hearted discussion through text with a friend of mine, over my morning cereal, I discovered that 1 in 3 people have had a sex related injury at some point or another in their life. Instantly, the only thing I thought was that the people partaking in the study had either lied, or not been in a long term relationship with someone they’d come to loathe. This figure appeared staggeringly low, in contrast to say, plastic surgery studies, which there appears to be booming consistently with an endless brigade of women lining up to become “a better” them. The plastic surgery industry has never been busier, despite the economical crisis the world over, and what you’d have to ask isn’t who is having these frivolous operations, or what is it they’re having done, but rather, why is it they’re having it done?

Simply put, insecurities and keeping up with celebrity culture has led to both women and men, yes men, having procedures done to make them look more youthful, give them bigger busts, or to achieve that perfectly slender toned body that can never be achieved in the gym, but is narrowly within sight of accomplishment...and if Brad Pitt says he achieved those abs in the gym way, then why can’t I!? Nope, plastic surgery is not just a trend, but has become a way of life for a vast majority of socially insecure people, who believe that if they LOOKED better, then they’ll instantly FEEL better, and DO better in life. What a crock of shit! But tell that to these bloody faced females...

American television has reached such a high calibre of new lows its truly impossible to envisage how they could delve any deeper down the depraved line of entertainment – but somehow, JUST SOMEHOW!!!, they’ve gone and achieved the impossible – I give you ; “BridalPlasty” (Sky Living, Tuesdays at 10p.m.). With TV having polluted people’s mind, to the point of nearly forcing their audience to picking up a book (maybe even Oprah has told them to!), and with the repetitive and sobering shows about weddings and self-improvement, they’ve only just gone and made a show that incorporates two of the most mind numbing concepts for television and packed it into a seamlessly never ending one hour slot with enough tears and tantrums to make most men think their respective partners, “Hey, actually aren’t that bad after-all, and infact, Honey – you go buy that new overpriced kitchen that we really don’t need!!! YEAH!!!”

Yes, by males taking time to watch this show for upwards of just fifteen minutes they may even come to cherish the one they love...or just happen to live with after blindly signing a legally binding document. I, having grown up in a house full of women, and having been privy to many female conversations, always was of the opinion that women had the capability to be, well, mental-vain-contemptuous-insecure beings, but this show delivers you a whole new kind of crazy, even one I didn’t know could exist!!! 

If you took a mixture of all the shows built out of nonsense that are so carelessly loitered about television world like a brazen child might leave his bedroom strewn with unwashed jocks, such as Bridezillas, Americas Next Top Model, Hells Kitchen, and threw in the unnatural sadistic violent elements of a Saw film, you would end up very close to what this show is made of...except, you wouldn’t quite get there, because there is something far more unpleasant and brutal about viewing this show than any of the aforementioned. In what could be called a show of genius by some, albeit, buffoonish balloon shaped women, Endemol Entertainment, not having already felt enough accomplishment by plying their viewers with enough under nourishing and under stimulating entertainment that could (and has) kill(ed) off more brain cells than several months worth of late night binge drinking, with their attention seeking drivel/pointless chasm that was Big Brother, and have delivered us yet another bout/show that only surpasses it’s previous show’s entertainment ability on account of it’s infusion of two show concepts in one, (as I have already stated, - keep up!) getting married and self improvement – yes, this show is nothing short of TRUE GENIUS!

Throw in a flash house with a load of under/over weight pretty/ugly smart/dumb nice/bitchy women with the promise of the winner getting their “Dream” wedding and a supply of “endless” (where somehow the thin ones appear ugly, and the heavy ones appear pretty – but each invariably having what the other would like) procedures of self improvement that would leave Joan Rivers slightly envious, and somehow, I bet I can guarantee I have just gotten some women clearing their schedules to catch sight of this programme next Tuesday to have a gawp at this indignant show for themselves. I think there may be 15/16 women in all, but it actually could have been far more (or less) given I lost interest in the number of women and became more concerned with tearing my nails from my fingers from the sheer mundanity of their stories, backgrounds, wimpy boyfriends giving character descriptions of their “prize wives” to be (“She won’t let nuthin’ stand in her way of her big day” one tells us), and, eugh...their (selfish self-fulfilling) dreams.

Yes, a free wedding and endless surgery – if only Katie Price had of held off a couple of years longer to become a contestant on this show – she’d have been an instant muppet even sooner! Awwww, and to think, it took her years to become the humdrum horrible looking meandering moronic icon she is today...pity that! But she did save some form of pride, unlike these girls, as they are called up infront of each other midway through the first show and shown a video tape of each others consultation with the seemingly Fairy Godfather like surgeon whose red marker is busier than a proctologist located outside a male orientated club – que bouts of pointing and laughing at one another as their “disfigurements” are highlighted, with the camera scanning the room to catch each demeaning reaction of the women watching on, and a nice close up of the red-faced girl who they’re laughing at for good measure – it almost makes you feel, like, sorry(???) for them...kind of...and before you forget that this isn’t a contemporary made for television version of “Lord of The Flies” you’re re-informed that this is a competition by none other than Beauty Queen herself, Miss America – well, the girls have to lose a certain amount of dignity before they become the winner – thus their prize is infact not a prize after all, but something they must jump through hoops for – as if we weren’t expecting that! Oh, TV, you do like to keep us on our proverbial toes!

In their first competitive outing, the girls have to cover images of their most defective life size image ever taken, that is plastered to the wall, and must place panels over their “before” picture with a jig-saw puzzle typed picture of the possible “new” them – and the prize? To win one of the syringes sitting on a table, as casually as syringes can sit on a table – which isn’t very casually in the slightest, and to be one of the people to get to attend the “Inject-able Party” being held within their mansion. Fantastic. Only, the bottom two are to be put up for elimination before their quest for perfection has even begun. Frantically and manically the girls cover their over-exaggerated hideous selves and run to collect their syringe in what seems like a survival sequence in the new “Saw” film – which sort of appears to be the case. One girl, in the bottom four, cries hysterically as she gets her syringe and informs the viewers that “an angel is on my side”. Yeah, like spirituality and cosmetics ever had anything in common.

The women gloriously get pumped with bottom and bubbly champagne as the horrified bottom two losers, one a previous contestant on “The Biggest Loser USA” (like that’s some accolade), watch on incredulously and teary eyed. Yes, this is fantastic viewing...if you happened to ever be that horrid child at a Birthday party who smugly and incesently quizzed the single diabetic child why isn’t allowed have any cake. And to add insult to injury, the sore faced heroines must now vote off one of their prospective competitors, which ends up with the women in floods of tears stating that “it isn’t” fair, obviously forgetting what they’re doing on television in the first place. Of course, the tears seem feigned, and before you know it, the unlucky loser gets booted with little remorse and the women continue their night like the evictee was nothing but a fart that passed back through the front door as quickly as it entered.

With shows in the past like, for instance, “The Swan”, which was much like “BridalPlasty”, in that it was originally received with unreserved angst and questioned on account of the morality, or lack of morality, which the show was built from, that and the self improvement of a few several desperate females through any means necessary, yet, it is quite astonishing to see how far tv has come in it’s disregard for their viewers and their refusal to abstain from partaking in the ridiculous in order to entertain. It takes no accountability for the influence it could have on a prospective viewer, and with the recent death of the young Claudia Aderotimi, aged just twenty years of age, who sought out a buttocks enhancement as she believed it could better her career, these shows could well be considered a readily dangerous influence on the imaginations and minds of young and easily influenced females who seek beauty to conform into societies idea of what beauty is.  

No, this sort of tv programme isn’t a bad tv programme, it’s a horrible fucking tv programme built purely out of women’s insecurities and their need to live up to celebrity culture, which the everyman, or woman, cannot realistically live up to, but is made feel like a rejected member of society if they haven’t an oversized wedding dress on their undersized body come their big day, and the big day no longer holds any religious connotations, but is rather more a “ooooo look at me – look at how great I am" day, where the bride isn’t there to marry the person they love any longer, but sort of, have a reverse voyeuristic effect on their family and loved ones.

The real question isn’t even why do women do this anymore, no, but how can women that are made beautiful ever be considered so, when what they put themselves, their bodies, their pride and others through is so obscene and grotesque?