The sound a person makes when confronted with a life-size, three-dimensional, microscopically accurate digital reconstruction of their own naked body is: “Oh my God.”
You may be wondering how much insight I have gathered into the human experience? Don’t watch Send nude photossuch a brilliant performance that it made me rethink some of my most fundamental beliefs.
I doubted that I would hate Send nude photosChannel 4 series invites a group of 50 people to vote on whether a complete stranger should get plastic surgery – and it turns out I do.
I hate that it praises plastic surgery as a shortcut to self-acceptance.
I hate that it encourages people to appreciate their capable bodies. I hate that talking heads zoom in and out of the contestants’ nudity, before giving their own opinion on what a human (who they’ve never met) should do with the bike. their only mundane cover.
This is the most basic form of reality TV, the cheap-looking kind. Yes, I hate everything about Send nude photos… Except, it seems, watching it. I enjoyed watching it a lot.
The show is pure chaos and absolutely hilarious. Before the contestants show up on it – like 48-year-old carpenter Steven, who stands out like a porn star – they pose in a 160-camera chamber that creates full-blown CGI images of their naked bodies. .
Then, on air, Vogue hostess Williams and each contestant stared at the avatar, eventually zooming in on the problem area. Steven, for example, hates the decisive average length of his flaccid penis.
They go home with a more accurate idea of what their bodies look like and some polls about a rushed exit.
The plastic surgeons then perform virtual consultations, which include unforgettable graphical manipulations of the contestant’s avatar to match recommended procedures. We watched Steven’s penis grow, inching closer to the ground; we watch it fold close to his balls due to the suspensory ligament severing hypothesis. We ask ourselves: why would a nice man like Steven be on this silly show? We try to ignore the more difficult question: why are we watching it?
And then – and I swear I (theoretically) hate the part the most – the contestants submit their “before” and “after” nudity to the right group of comedians, queens, and comedians. scissors, an influencer, a model, a former Miss England. , a woman named Chanelle, and also Chanelle’s grandmother. Before the big vote, they pored over the photos as if trying to find Wally.
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These talking heads – at least the ones that appeared in the first episode – were specially chosen. They are warm and playful. They are very assertive about the “before” photos and avoid making too many comparisons.
When a YouTube personality shows up a new pair of beautiful breasts for 31-year-old mother Stephanie, he doesn’t simply say they’re better; he shouted triumphantly into his iPhone that “THIS IS THIS TIME”. His anti-surgery counterpart declared: “Sexy breasts.”
Williams is unusually sunny due to her show’s dark premise, and it helps keep things clear that the contestants aren’t actually offered plastic surgery on the show. They go home with a more accurate idea of what their bodies look like and some polls about a rushed exit.
I won’t spoil Steven choosing the penis he knows or he calls “dad” when the plastic surgeon presents it. But I think what I hate the most Send nude photosFinally, the part where I’d love to have more “after” photos.
I wanted to know which contestants opted for the cutlery and how it changed them. And I wanted to know if any of them found self-acceptance through a path more perilous than plastic surgery: appearing on reality TV.
https://www.independent.ie/entertainment/television/tv-reviews/vogue-williams-new-show-send-nudes-is-chaos-ive-never-hated-or-enjoyed-a-programme-as-much-41954066.html Vogue Williams’ new Send Nudes show is chaotic – I’ve never hated or liked a show so much