Help. I am nearing the end of watching the entirety of the same episode of Millionaire Matchmaker that I just watched the end of. Help, and also: why? This show horrifies me, yet I am transfixed. Yes, mostly because of the eponymous host's 50 pound bangs, but only mostly. I guess I just can't quite get my head around the hopefully made-for-TV fact that it's okay to be a prostitute, john, or madam as long as you've got a micro-mini, spray tan, or a nice rack.
The premise of this show is as follows: Millionaire man (and they're always men) seeks supermodelesque girlfriend. Supermodelesque woman wants millionaire boyfriend. How ever will they find each other? Why, with the help of...that woman over there! And that woman over there will bluntly tell the millionaires everything that's wrong with them (save for the fact that they're on MIllionaire Matchmaker). And everyone will pretend that nobody involved is shallow, materialistic, inauthentic, or icky.
You can see the appeal.
My problem is...that it seems to work!
The guys are super okay with the gold-digging hussies ("It's totally normal for a woman to want to date a guy who's successful,") and the women are flattered, nay, thrilled to be told how well-endowed they are, how great their legs look in that dress, and, well...nothing else. Nothing of substance is ever spoken of (I know, I know, what do I think I'm watching, The Daily Show? Just, "I'm rich, wanna do it?" "I'm pretty, I won't do it yet, but I will as soon as you propose: marriage or weekly stipend, it's up to you!" And they live happily ever after. I HATE THAT.
Of course, I'm sure they don't live happily ever after. But you never see that. Or if you do, it's a year later, like when this year's Bachelor [note: I just spent a weekend in a Vermont condo owned by a man named "Frank Bachelor," and his email address began "fbachelor," so I, naturally, took to calling him "Fat Bachelor" (not to his face, geez). I really, really want him to be a fat bachelor, but I am unsure of how to find this out without looking suspicious or creepy. Suggestions are welcome!) and the lucky recipient of the last rose quietly break up after proclaiming their undying love for each other on the cover of People, and nobody remembers or cares, because THERE'S A NEW BACHELOR ON!
I know there's no such think as "happily ever after." I know there's no such thing as the "perfect relationship." Or an "easy" relationship. Or a relationship that "never, ever" makes you "cry." And I know it would be horribly mundane and boring if there were. But I really wish that pop culture would stop sending this freakin' message out: Pretty girls + rich guys = true love forever! And all the rest of you must wallow in the mire of marriage counseling and staying home alone on Saturday nights because YOU JUST DON'T CUT IT. Even though I know it's bullshit (I can say that on here, right? Bullshit?), I also know that the 12-year-old me who would be watching this if I were, in fact, 12 years old, doesn't know it's bullshit (twice? I can say it twice?). And in this economy, the 12-year-old me really can't afford the next 30 or so years of therapy that the 37-year-old me is currently undertaking. Unless she gets hooked up with a 12-year-old millionaire. WHICH SHE WON'T DO BECAUSE SHE'S NOT PRETTY ENOUGH AND ALSO HAS NO BOOBS.
Pour me another round.
I've seen this show, Anne, and it's exactly as you've described. I keep thinking that maybe, just maybe, if I were a millionaire or a wanna-be actress, I'd go on a reality show just to cross "Get strangers to hate me" off my bucket list.
Or not.
Posted by: Kim | February 27, 2009 at 07:24 AM
my only reality shows take place in kitchens, but I've just read this twice and have started reading it again. why? because YOU CRACK ME UP, ANNE SUSSMAN.
Posted by: Laura | February 27, 2009 at 08:23 AM
Thanks, you guys! I really couldn't believe a) that Bravo was running the exact same episode back-to-back, b) that I sat through the whole second episode rather than just stopping where I came in, and c) that that Patti woman is allowed in front of the camera with that hair. or that makeup. Especially after all the makeover advice she gives. I mean, hello? Do the terms "layer" or "movement" mean nothing to this woman?
Posted by: Anne | February 27, 2009 at 08:29 AM
Those bangs are really something else.
Posted by: Lori | February 27, 2009 at 11:10 AM
I know, right?
Posted by: Anne | February 27, 2009 at 12:56 PM
Ah, the machine that cranks out unreasonable expectations continues to thrive!
I've watched this show and, as an adult married woman, I think, "Whew. I am SO glad I don't have to date anymore!"
I'm with you, though, on the effect these shows have on the 12-year-old girls in all of us. And, I'm in complete agreement with Laura—YOU CRACK ME UP, ANNE SUSSMAN!
Posted by: Elizabeth Hilts | February 27, 2009 at 01:53 PM
I have learned from this show however.
If you want a hunky and/or douchey guy, they want you to have long hair they can imagine running their hands through.
I think that's the secret to men. Silky long hair.
And um, other stuff. But you gotta have the silky long hair.
Posted by: Lori | February 27, 2009 at 04:25 PM
Patti Stanger is a PIMP, and the women (most of which seem to be models) who join her club are gold digging sluts hoping to snare rich men. What a disgusting show.
Posted by: Fred | January 16, 2010 at 12:29 PM