Wednesday, June 10, 2009

NYC Prep: A lesson in life's little ironies

Last weekend was dull. The only matter of note was the television show called “NYC Prep” that I came across on Bravo. As the title suggests, the show follows around ridiculously rich children attending the finest and most expensive schools in New York. They don’t work, they don’t worry about how they will pay for college, and they can get into any bar or club they like because they have the finest fake IDs on this side of the Atlantic. Never before have I witnessed such retched children wallowing so openly in their retchary.

Some characters of note are P.C. who at 17 has decided that his favorite pastime is going to fashion shows and commenting on the art that is overpriced couture; Jessie, who’s bizarre cross-eyes can’t seem to focus on one solid point and who likes to throw dinner parties; Camille, who’s bizarre boggle eyes suggest her mother may have drink too much champagne while with child; and Sebastian who considers himself a lady’s man and has feathered long blond hair and a baby face and whom I want to send a picture of today’s Leif Garrett with the inscription “Hey, kid, take a look at your grim future.”

Yes, they are magnificent specimens of privilege, which it wholly undeserved and wholly unappreciated by Fifth Avenue brats. And I hate them. I hate them because they have everything I did not and are too stupid to realize it. I hate them because they wear scarves in August and designer jewelry to the supermarket. I hate them because they have ironic acronyms for names. But mostly, I hate them because they are living under the delusion that they are somehow mature because they can drink and smoke and screw lots of strange people that they barely know. “I’ve grown up fast,” each one of them said in their micro-duction. As if they have some deeply intimate knowledge about the world that most people don’t understand until they are *gasp* 25.

Really, the children I would like to see on Bravo are the children who in this recession are working before and after school 20, 30 or 40 hours a week so they can attend college or, hell, even help their parents out with the rent check. Who’ve learned at 16 that no one takes care of you but yourself and that tough times don’t last but tough people do. I’d like to see those kids. Because they are inspiring and tough and wise in a way Fifth Avenue can’t touch. But, mostly, I’d like to see those kids kick Fifth Avenue’s ass.

1 comment:

  1. I would buy cable if there was a show that fit that last description!!!!!!!!!