Turn off the TV and go outside. Look at the stars. Look at the trees. Dig a ditch. Stare directly into the sun, and it'll be better than what they're doing on MTV now.
This tragic end to the art of television has finally been signaled by MTV's latest schlockfest, "Styl'd," a show that focuses on the junior stylists at the Margaret Maldonado Agency (MMA), one of the largest styling agencies in the world.
A stylist, as evidenced by "Styl'd," is basically a glorified mommy. These professional fashionistas find clothing for celebrity types to be seen in so the stars can continue to look good and not have to worry about anything at all, except maybe the temperature of the champagne in their champagne-filled pools.
Celebrities may be a different species than everyday people, but most learn how to put clothes on themselves at the age of four or five. These stylists are paid money — a whole lot of it — to dress celebrities. It's embarrassing for them that their job is completely unnecessary for 99 percent of their clients. There are certainly situations for which a stylist is needed — for photo shoot or a film set or meeting the President — but picking out clothes for a party just seems ridiculous. And it isn't clear from "Styl'd" if these professionals have any skills besides the ability to see colors, use a telephone and act catty.
Oh, and how catty they are. Watching "Styl'd" is like getting a lobotomy, but the ridiculousness of its drama may be the show's one and only saving grace. Viewers get to watch everyday situations explode, like when one stylist tattles on a coworker who used their boss' name to get clothing at a men's boutique while preparing for a side job that he was told not to take. It's sort of fantastic but, like all of life's little joys, it's fleeting.
No one on "Styl'd" has any defining characteristics. They're shallow individuals and their voices — men and women alike — sound eerily similar to Alvin and his chipmunk brethren. If the squeaking, chirping, cloying voices don't ruin the fun, everything else about "Styl'd" will.
It's clear that every stylist involved is just trying to get a bit of limelight, taking every chance possible to name-drop. One of the senior stylists brags that she's styled everyone from Britney Spears to Kid Rock to Mandy Moore — she thinks this is a diverse list of clients.
The junior stylists (glorified interns) are intense about fashion and worship materialism. As terrible as they are, compared to their bosses (especially MMA senior stylist Jennifer Rade) they're saints. Whether it's true or not, everyone on the show comes off as stupid and incompetent.
Watching "Styl'd" is like watching an over-extended comedy sketch. The joke is funny for the first five minutes, but beyond that it's almost insulting. One of the junior stylists, Brett, begins his work with MMA by helping to style a photo shoot for V Factory, an up-and-coming boy band. This show was filmed within the past few months, but the boy band resembles MTVs fake one from the 2000 mockumentary, "2ge+her" (pronounced "Together). It's funny until the audience is reminded that it's real.
While it might be a struggle to stay on top of fashion trends and be so cool that it hurts, there isn't enough meat here for a full TV series. When Kim Kardashian, the first episode's featured celebrity, abbreviates the word "gorgeous," it's quite obvious that the show has hit rock bottom and it's time to pull the plug. Later, when Rade drops the compound word "setiquette" — short for set etiquette — into a sentence, English speakers everywhere will no doubt begin to bleed from the ears. Even the way the title is spelled is upsetting and infuriating. This isn't "Wheel of Fortune!" — the vowel won't cost a thing!
While some celebrity-obsessed reality shows are fun to watch, there is nothing enjoyable or entertaining about "Styl'd." The show threatens to become a parody of itself, but it's questionable whether those featured on the show would know what a parody is. Unfortunately, the show is completely irony-free, leaving viewers no choice but to tune out and head back to the champagne-filled pool.
