There’ s something about trailer trash TV that makes it incredibly appealing . No matter how much you argue abut the social consciousness portrayed in shows like Big Brother caters to the lowest common denominator, essentially your highly laudable existential debates just relate to pandering your own ego and placing your voyeurism in a socially acceptable context. Forget your high ideals and pretend aspirations on social commentary, essentially you’re just getting cheap thrills at celebrities revealing lumps and bumps, vacuous backstabbing and hair extension chaos. I’m sure at some point you’ve expressed that you only watch shows of this nature to understand the celebrity culture that we live in, but do you really believe that?
Of course not! You get home at the end of the day and want to switch off and there’s nothing better than some mind numbing vacuous show that lets you feel morally superior whilst wondering how on earth a programme like this got commissioned. Paris Hilton’s BBF is the worst kind of TV as it’s not particularly entertaining, will have no real winner, and any kind of unity within the group is ruined by the fact that every week they have to say why each other should leave.
In case you’re unaware of the premise, twelve hopefuls battle every week for the dubious honour of associating with Paris on a full time basis, pick up her laundry, share her TV watershed acceptable secrets and promote their model/acting/singing career at the same time.
But that’s the genius. This show makes no attempt to be serious (though Paris may not have realized that) and the fact that these fame hungry star struck wannabes are pandering to this heiress is so bizarre it’s actually kinda riveting. Forget intelligent documentary, here the bitchiest wins, as long as she does it with a saccharinely sweet voice.
The ending of every show seems a potential friend being dismissed ‘ with a fabulous catchphrase of ‘TTYN (Talk to you never) ‘which makes one question if Paris knows what friendship actually is, as that’s not my experience of it at all… Friends don’t fawn and pander to each other and neither do they need to buy it, and since qualities you look for are compassion and friendliness the loudest won’t necessarily win, nor should the one who tearfully proclaims ‘I just want to know Paris. I don’t think so and so is serious about being her friend and I am’.
It’s pure trash TV and one wonders how Hilton senior can bear to have his good name raked over the coals in such a vacuous way. Still, it makes for fabulous viewing, and the best bit is we get an insight into a life we discover we’d really not like. Money may be great, but if you need to resort to buying friends I think I’ll go without, thanks all the same.