I love my train-wrecked string of reality shows. My new obsession? Well, I am almost ashamed to admit that it’s Bravo’s NYC Prep. There is something beautifully tragic when minors submerge themselves into adulthood before they are ripe enough. It’s akin to some cutesy picture with say a four year old trying to fit in his father’s suit, with everything drooping and pooling around him.
There is something equally beautifully disturbing to know these kids’ parents seem so far off the radar that they are able to openly spill the beans about exploits of sex, exorbitant spending, drugs, and lord knows what else without retribution.
After seeing as many episodes as I have, this is one time I hope that things are hugely exaggerated for the sake of the small screen. However, having gone to college with the likes of PC (he’s seems to be pulling lines straight out of the movie Cruel Intentions), Jessie, Camille, et al, I know that this grossly-privileged and tragic sect lives and breaths. What’s worse? Not all of them grow up to be the I-have-learned-my-lesson-been-there-and-done-that types. Some of them actually get worse, get more of that feeling of entitlement — growing into either lazy and attention-seeking socialites or drug-induced drones who got their power positions solely due to nepotism and have a penchant for snorting in the bathroom between meetings.
They say parents — regardless of socioeconomic status — are running scared after this show aired. And, guess what, they should be. When people like Paris Hilton are idolized and copied by everyone, including kids of underprivileged households, then we have a problem that’s epic.
For me, I never fell prey to the underworld these kids inhabit. Personally, even back then, I just simply intellectualized the whole thing: it is much easier for those of privilege to bounce back from the excessive-ness and the sort than a child who wasn’t reared with the same. So that many of my friends who came from money thought it no big deal to snort every now and then because, hey, they have no worries, while others who tried haplessly to be a part of it all fell hard. It could be that cushion privileged kids have, knowing they are just a daddy’s check away from a Betty Ford Clinic or that their family can and will save them somehow. Whatever it is, this show is entertainment but it should also be a warning as well. However, with the way these kids’ lifestyles are being glamorized, I am not sure how easy that will be.
Ultimately, it’s all about communication between child and parent. Kudos to my Mom for being open and honest with me and being hyper-vigilant in making sure I kept my feet planted firmly on the ground.
File under: America’s Youth! Oh no!