A nation wide water cooler conversation has been going on since 2013 which I’m effectively locked out of. Don’t hate me but I’m yet to watch a full episode of The Bachelor. Some people will have a hard time believing this. Like this Huff Poster for example –
Seriously – I’m not pretending – I truly don’t watch the Batchie and can only discuss it in terms of the snippets I’ve absorbed from headlines and hilarious recaps.
Over the last few days I’ve indulged in some intense navel gazing to try and fathom why I don’t participate in this cultural phenomena.
I ask myself is it because the entire premise is anti-feminist? Well it’s as anti-feminist as fuck but I dont feel all entertainment should be recalibrated through a feminist lense. Besides the existence of The Bachelorette offsets this argument somewhat.
Is it because my inner hipster deems it too ‘basic’? Well no – I fan gurl over a lot of lowbrow stuff. I mean – I care deeply about the Brienne/Tormund/Jaime love triangle (Game of Thrones) which hardly makes for cerebral dinner party conversation.
My resistance to The Bachelor comes down to three factors.
- The Husband factor – The amount of shade Dadabs would throw my way for watching this tripe would be unbearable. I am already subject to frequent rants about the dumbing down of society without throwing reality TV into the mix. In the meantime Dadabs loves nothing more than a spot of Deep Space Nine followed by a Battlestar Galatica chaser. Hmmmm
- The aint nobody got time fo’ dat factor – TV viewing time is a scarce commodity. Hence as a rational consumer I strive to maximize the amount of sword wielding beefcake my eye can cop in the limited hours I have.
Meanwhile furnish Ritchie with a pair of leather dacks and a medieval arsenal and I’m in like the proverbial Flynn.
The pain factor. I dont want to watch a show about dating, mating and relating. As an alumni of the Sydney’s urban singles scene I can tell you that dating, mating and relating sux. Love is a battlefield and women like me, who don’t quite fit the Barbie doll mold, nearly always LOSE. The ritual rejection on the Batchelor dredges up painful memories. Seeing women competing be chosen by some vaguely attractive crumpet is personally excruciating because I spent my entire 20s NOT being chosen*.
All good reasons. However as a wise person once said ‘dont knock it until you’ve tried it’. I decided to put my personal prejudices aside and give The Batchie a red hot go.
Here’s how I fared.
I watched some of Episode 4 on catch up TV while my husband was out. I only lasted 20 minutes because I had to go and met a friend for lunch. It’s important to have a life. My impressions are listed.
- Whoa!!! The camera zooms in on the gaggle of sexy laaaadies and you’re whacked in the face with boobs the size of car airbags. The teeth are so blindingly white they could trigger and epileptic fit. I never knew so much bleach blonde hair could exist outside the Gold Coast.
- To be fair they’ve really mixed things up by including a blonde woman with a slightly smaller (read natural) bust – because she is pin thin. Seriously I think I spotted four brunettes in the group.
- Ritchie is actually well – nice. He doesn’t seem a complete douche. He’s not slick and there’s genuineness about him which shines through despite the risible lines.
- On the date with Faith he said he was looking for a ‘deeper connection’. What self respecting straight man says shite like that? I’m sure what he really meant was in the immortal words of Kevin Bloody Wilson – Cause you’ve got a nice head. And you look pretty honest. So me face’ll be leavin’ in quart of an hour. I’d like you to be on it.
- What the heck is the white rose all about?
- In positioning herself as the mean girl Keira is guaranteed a B list career long after the season wraps. She might even be the next Bachelorette or at the very least gain a spot on the next Celebrity Apprentice with Mark Bouris. Mark Bouris is a silver fox.
- Keira and Eliza are scrapping over some shite. I know its manufactured drama but does anyone truly carry on like this?
- Alex is acting like a lame arse pork chop at the cocktail party. Oh dear God she’s actually crying. Grow a set of hairy ones girl.
- TEN Play wont let you fast forward through the fucking ads. No cougar should have to put up with this.
- So many Gosford skirts (just below The Entrance) worn on the group date. The girls have got it and they’re flaunting it.
- This group date is a cruel and unusual punishment.Ballroom dancing with a seven to one female to male ratio is just evil. I mean Ramsay Snow was nicer to Theon Greyjoy.
- Ritchie’s apparently looking for someone ‘cheeky and sassy who can take the waltz in a new direction’. Try the Mumabs Ritchie! Cheeky tick, Sassy tick and so uncoordinated I can take the waltz in every direction there is.Tick!
- The bleating about drowning in Ritchie’s eyes is making me want to give up my morning tea (hummus chips).
- Poor Ritchie looks like he hates himself, God bless ‘im.
- So many fairy lights. So so many fairy lights. Fairy lights out the wazoo. Too many fairy lights are never enough. Meanwhile the power surge caused by these fairy lights has triggered rolling black outs all over Sydney.
- Much has been made of Osher’s hair. For good reason. Its astounding. Send a sample to the CSIRO for chemical analysis now!
- Not many of these lips look natural. Is there a collagen specialist on set? Is he single?
- Those teeth. There has to be dentist in the production team? As someone whose child has recently had fillings I can tell you ladies – the dentist is the one to go for. Ker ching, Ker ching!
- Check to topiary – must be some pretty hawt gardeners to distract the girls whilst they sit around all day waiting for Ritchie.
- Mmmmmmmm. Hawt gardeners with big shears.
The verdict. What a gut churning load of horse shit
Would I watch it again? Sure – shite’s addictive.
So cougars.. The Bachelor do you love it or loathe it? Sell me.
* Don’t cry for me Argentina. I’ve been in a great relationship for 12 years and my husband is quite frankly a catch.