Here's your sign

There are often times when I need to find shows to watch on my own, which is when I typically seek out reality TV shows that I know Luke has little interest in watching. Love Thy Nadar definitely fit the bill: beautiful model sisters with first world problems living a life in NYC that is completely unrecognizable to my own humble experience. So I was taken by surprise when, 7 episodes in, the show takes a sharp turn into an uncharacteristically serious topic: the newest tool to help the capitalist fashion industry perpetuate body dysmorphia, GLP-1s.

The episode depicted an extremely alarming picture of how one particular use of this powerful drug could look. In an incredibly invasive way that only reality TV knows how to do, Love Thy Nadar went as far as showing a rail-thin Brooks Nadar curled up and shaking in her gorgeous free-standing tub, completely malnourished based on her diet of bone broth and micro-doses of GLP-1. Her sisters host an intervention after finding multiple packs of GLP-1 shots that look to be from several different prescribers, bringing in a therapist that says out loud what we're all thinking "GLP-1s are really not made for individuals like you guys." Brooks and Co. point fingers at the impossible standards of the modeling industry, with GLP-1s just being the newest invention since cigarettes and coke that agents can throw at their wards to conform to expectations.

Now, it's easy to say from the outside-in that these women and men elect to become models, and so it could be argued that they opted into these conditions. Even if that were justification enough (which it's not), we all know the violence doesn't stop there. These beautiful men and women are viewed as the pinnacle of beauty, so normal adult consumers point fingers at these beautiful models for being the physical manifestation of those expectations -- if they can do it, why can't we? Even further down that line, children are indoctrinated from a young age. It's the same old lesson: thin is good, every other state of being is lesser than.

As a woman in her 30s,
it's impossible for me to look at thin body without a twinge of envy.

As an adult that understands the concepts of nuance and live experiences,
I hate that that is my first reaction.

This isn't a revelation, but for some reason, this episode really rattled me. And I think it was because I had naively hoped that the last decade or so of body positivity had reprogrammed the next generation of women. In my lifetime, Project Runway started featuring "plus size" models, clothing lines expanded their sizing options, the zeitgeist seemed to be accepting of "the spectrum". Anecdotally, it felt like everyone was coming around to this shared understanding that every body looks different and has different needs. Why would loving your natural body have to be a learned habit?

And yet, with this episode, my tinted glass house shattered around me: the machinations of capitalism are as strong as ever, with the promise to perpetuate this intrusive thought in women for generations to come. And now, the answer comes in the form of a legal drug that is prescribed by your healthcare provider, keeping a whole new segment of the US population under the thumb of recurring drug costs. The KFF reports that over half of the adults that use GLP-1s consider them difficult to afford, inclusive of the quarter that said they're very difficult to afford.

As much as Episode 7 does the work to start shining a light on how dangerous it can be to abuse a prescription drug, the episode still concludes with Brooks killing it at the Maxim shoot she's micro-dosing GLP-1s for, and then Episode 8 just carries on to completely different topics. It's as if this really heavy conversation about drug abuse, body dysmorphia, and sisterly concern just never happened. A reality TV bottle episode to neatly tie up the conversation about GLP-1s as done and dusted. But obviously, with the increasing amount of ways a person can access GLP-1s today, the discussion is just beginning.

I appreciate this show for taking the opportunity to take a detour from silly interpersonal drama to dive into a timely topic. I also felt weird about how the producers left it:

The extreme pressure Brooks has to perpetuate an unrealistic body image is real.

Brooks' inability to complete a Zumba class and shivering in a tub is real.

But the sisters' concern seemed contrived.

The intervention felt staged.

The therapist was hired off the internet as a one time mouthpiece, not an offer of consistent support.

Were producers just washing their hands of this incredibly alarming depiction of GLP-1 usage? And yet, they chose to spend a whole episode on it when they never even had to address it.

So in conclusion, reality TV can be more than just a mindless hour of content. It can be a meditation on the evils of capitalism and an opportunity to spend weeks bringing up a topic to anyone that will listen. And then a reason to write a blog that no one will read. Here's your sign to watch more reality TV.