Right now, as I type on this dire Black Monday of January of 2013, the thought of being conventionally pretty has never been so boring. Thank GOODNESS for the new TV show Girls which crash-landed on our TV sets last year ready to rock our worlds with a group of normal, FUNNY girls. What a joy it’s been to have been offered something a little more authentic than reality TV shows or re-runs of Friends. (I love Friends, but as soon as I found out that life didn’t involve pet ducks and enormous apartments, I was a tad disappointed). Shows like Girls allow us to enter a world where it’s OK to have awkward moments, confusing life episodes and sometimes – nothing is more therapeutic than watching some one else make a tit out of themselves for once.
“SCREW YOU with your perfectly sculpted boobs and expensive shoes and pretentious Hollywood cackles,” said the cast of Girls (I think), as they graced us with the most awkward sex-scenes in the history of awkward sex-scenes and introducing some down to earth kids from the block, with the dodgiest of hair styles and ridiculous ideas of how to be an adult.
Lena Dunham, at first, baffled me. When seeing the reviews of Girls doing the rounds in the women’s media I thought OK OK, if the Stylist are harping on about it, then I know it’s something special. But at first I studied Lena like I often do with my nephew who says a word that I don’t think exists. An understanding squint as you try and realise what they are talking about. Why is this girl writhing around naked in a dark room with an equally awkward boy who also seems a bit naked and creepy? It was all so….BRAVE. Aren’t you meant to walk around NYC with a fur coat and labradoodle? This isn’t very MTV. Ohhh…it’s an ironic Sex and the City? It’s like New Girl? It’s like Skins, but a bit more exotic than Bristol night clubs? WHAT IS IT?? I watched a few epsiodes and still I was leaning in, mouth gaping, cereal dripping down my front, wondering…wondering..what this show was all about.
What was not to get?? It’s perfect. It’s not trying to be any thing. It’s non comparable. Stop calling it a ‘rough round the edges Sex & the city’, the critics cry. It’s simple and that’s what makes it great; it’s a frank documentation on what it’s actually like to be a girl. I love the fact that even the title of the show is no-frills. GIRLS. Good old Lena. (I know, I’ve become one of those freaky fans that sighs and says ‘oh Lena’, like we’re sleepover pals). But the it’s true – it’s brash, crude, raw and most of all – deliciously cringe.
Funny, when I was younger, all I wanted to be was ‘like everyone else’. Being cool was the ability to morph into the background and be the same. Same same same. Same girls in the same cliques, wearing the same over-priced clothes, all petrified to be even a little bit different because EEK someone might say something mean. I love that girls like Lena Dunham are role models for the new generations of soon-to-be-women. It’s the ultimate inspiration, to have someone completely care-free to encourage you to do the same. Wanting to watch some one’s show and read their articles because you think they’re effin’ cool and day dream about inviting them to your dinner party or getting smashed in someone’s living room is so much better than gawping at leggy super-models who laugh alone with salad, right?
Those girls remind me that it’s OK to wear a polo neck, and for that, I thank you.