I won’t blame it all on my friend Anna but she definitely made it easier to feel okay about watching the new reality show, Ready For Love. Admittedly, I’ve watched The Bachelor/Bachelorette; I was in a low place when I surrendered to Emily and her search for love (and later for Sean’s shirtless journey). If you’ve lost respect for me because of these admissions, well, I understand–I’m sure I hate myself for it even more.
Either way, I know bad reality television (its been over two months since I’ve watched Dance Moms and I just feel healthier!). Eva Longoria is supposedly the mind behind this new dating show, where three of the self prescribed “best matchmakers in the world”–Amber, Matt and Tracy–try to find love for three men. Amber, having been married for twenty years is as qualified as anyone else who has been married for twenty years, while Tracy has the most viewed article of all time on Huffington Post so, jealous much? Matt’s specialty is being young handsome and British and of course, vocalizing the inner workings of the
sexist complicated male psyche.
As a side note, can we briefly acknowledge that ALL reality dating shows require you to be under the national weight average and above the national attractiveness average (cue my roommate Zack walking in living room to ask, “are there any uggos?”) I’m not an idiot–television isn’t reality and reality television isn’t reality. However, wouldn’t it be so much greater if we had some prime time shows with average looking people?
To begin with, the intro for Ready for Love is like having a seizure on the floor while someone frantically and repeatedly takes snap shots over your head. When I’m forced to watch three “matchmakers” smile for the camera, turning and posing at every angle like they’re in the running for Miss Universe for ten minutes at the beginning of each episode, I’m automatically skeptical.
These matchmakers act as that voice inside your head dissuading you from being yourself–“don’t voice you’re insecurities, now it’s in his head forever!”–Sure, sometimes in the game the matchmakers want you to take out the ‘be yourself’ card (let that hair down, girl! Show the sexy you!) but that’s not the game plan. Shouldn’t that be the game plan? Instead, the show is like your judgmental grammie reminding you how to be a lady–“that hair color makes you look like a Russian hooka!”
(Don’t even get me started on the validity of the ex-girlfriend of one of the guys who “couldn’t stand to watch the process on television without being a part of it.”)
I just feel like being a lady was a thing for a while but that’s just not real life anymore unless you’re Judy Garland or the Queen. Sure, I’ll put a napkin on my lap when I eat at a table but I’m sure as hell not holding in my gas to make you feel more comfortable. I’m SORRY! I know this is a hard thing for some people but we need to face facts: women poop and fart and burp and get pit stains and sometimes have hairy legs.
The reason I’m taking it here is because for two full episodes I watched one poor women get berated for saying the words “fart” and “puke” on a date. I won’t lie, watching Hailey tell the story of an escaped fart was one of the more uncomfortable moments in my life but it was also AMAZING to hear a woman tell a dreaded fart story. As she was lying on a the couch with her boyfriend she moved her legs out popped an innocent fart–come on, it’s happened to us all, whether you’re ready to admit it or not.
My own experience feels worse, and yet i’ll tell it to anyone who will listen: as me, my first boyfriend and his two best friend sat on my purple couch shoulder to shoulder watching The Notebook, I sneezed, not knowing my sneeze would push out an audibly awkward, mood ruining fart that actually broke the tension of watching a love scene at sixteen with your boyfriend and his friends as your parents roam in the background making sure you weren’t getting high. But STILL, I remember the moment as if it were my first time farting because at the time, I thought: girls don’t fart.
I’m thankful now to have a mother that would fart in the other room then poke her head in and say, “good one huh, Al?” But not all women are so lucky and I can’t imagine how many stomach aches were caused by the held in fart. It’s a shame.
After the date where homegirl Hailey was asked to tell an embarrassing story and ended up sharing her fart attack, the matchmakers eagerly weighed in on what just doesn’t help you get the guy. “You said the word F-A-R-T on a date. And that is something a woman should NEVER do,” said Tracy, the one matchmaker I could imagine being in a room with without vomiting. But with proper observation–bitch is crazy!
At this point, the matchmakers start urging Hailey to let her sexy out–be your sexy true self not that fake farting girl who likes to quote Dumb and Dumber! While,in the background Julianna and Bill Rancic squabble over who asked out who first in a public display of uncomfortable foreplay. (There’s so much more depth than The Bachelor!) I also love how it’s the matchmakers and not the contestant who picks the bottom two cause its like this vindictive game of whose girl is more of a lady–I’ll send my farter to the bottom but you send your crazy stalker with a kid!
Inevitably, the show was cancelled. I guess viewers enjoy watching roses get handed out more than random people scolding women for using the word ‘fart’. I’m actually really proud that this show got cancelled because do we really need more people/television shows setting unrealistic expectations for women on how to act and be sexy. My boyfriend thinks it’s so ridiculously sexy when I have a healthy digestive tract! How about you?!