It’s disgusting how much we like this t.v. channel. When the creators of TLC sat down together to think of what they’d like to have their channel be about, I’m pretty sure the consensus was to make sure that everything that happened needed to be eccentric. And then the next time they met they thought, “How can we make this next season even weirder?”
And. We. Love. It.
The reason we like it so much is because the people on the show are nothing like us.
It’s a constant parade of peculiar behavior and we eat it up like a berry parfait.
Let’s review 4 of the shows:
What not to wear
Two consultants, Stacy and Clinton, take people who have been voted by their friends and family as having the ugliest wardrobe in the country. Like fairy godmothers, they turn these sad, saggy, sloppy people into confident, beautiful happy people. It’s like Cinderella but without the singing mice.
Four brides duke it out to have the most fabulous wedding and the winner gets a killer honeymoon. While one of the four brides walks down the aisle, the other three sit in the crowd and talk about how her dress isn’t that cute, the buffet food was a little salty, and the reception hall was too cold. But the three critics are soon put on the pedestal and judged just as harshly at their own weddings.
There is something deliciously wrong about rating other people’s weddings.
And as Spinsters, we get to do it on a regular basis.
Say yes to the dress
Kleinfelds: A wedding dress store in Manhattan. Hundreds of high maintenance girls from all over the country coming in with daddy’s checkbook. Dress selection. Unlimited budgets. Alterations mayhem. Tears. Happy Endings.
Could this show get any better? But once again, we love this show because we are nothing like these prima donnas. They throw fits because their wedding dress budget is only $18,000? It’s like a train wreck. We can’t look away. We all love Randy too.
These people don’t use their garages because they have three years worth of toothbrushes, dish soap, deodorant, Halloween candy, bottled water and other miscellaneous objects organized into neat dividers from floor to ceiling. Look around the room you’re sitting in right now, find an object, and they probably have a million of it. The extreme couponers will go to registers with over $2,000 dollars worth of stuff and end up paying $3.29. I find myself internalizing the show and thinking, “I need to start clipping coupons!” but then I realize I have to go to the post office, return an ugly sweater to Old Navy that I accidently bought and write a paper for my humanities class that is due tomorrow (it was assigned 3 weeks ago. Why do I always leave things to the last second?! What was I doing for those 3 weeks?!?)
Oh yeah…watching extreme couponing.
Gertie and Char