So my social life is going through a dry spot as of late (pals either on french exchange or are totally skiing, dahling) , and this morning (easter hols, baby) I found myself googling whatever the hell came to mind (the history of marmite, Charles Manson, Lithuanian cinema) until finally I found lingering in the back of my mind the truly dire hit channel 4 show, 10 years younger.
10 years younger is a program shown at 8 o'clock each thursday on Channel 4. I hadn't seen it in about 2 years, so I was interested to see what was going down in Nicky Hambleton-Jones Town. But, to my horror, the presenter had been replaced with the nauseating Myleene Klass. At least NHJ had sass (even if she was a middle england headteacher in disguise). From what I know of her, MK's all afternoon tea and group breastfeeding sessions.
After having a bit of fun exploring the website, curiosity got the better of me, and before I knew it I was on 4od watching an episode from a few weeks ago.
In a nutshell, this was the contents of the program:
- Two women are humiliated by being placed in the town centre of some dead end town and are then scrutinised by chavvy passers by. Their average predicted age is calculated, usually something completley absurd like 95, even though they are in fact forty. They then cry.
- One chooses to undergo surgery, one doesn't.
- The surgery lady has her boobs jordanified and her face melted. The other gets her pubes waxed and her eyelashes permed.
- Syrupy MK makes the "problem cases" look freaking hawt, giving them a head to toe TU at sainsburys look after telling them that they have "such a shapely waist" and "such thin ankles".
- The plastic fantastic Lisa Eldridge attempts to make some she-man feel better by showering her with fake compliments ("You've got loveley, thick eyebrows") before caking their face with plastesine.
- Some northern geezer (who nobody's ever heard of, yet is still referred to as "britains no.1 hairdresser" at every oppurtunity) and his prostitute cut and colour the two women's hair.
- Their new looks are revealed to family and friends. Everyone cries, leading to some poor sod who's just started watching to ask "who's died?"
- The three women (MK and the losers) hit the town and do Sex and the City big time, by sipping rose-tinted champagne at some department store discount cafe. The winner of who looks younger is revealed, with the one who didn't go for surgery almost always winning (some policy to try and stop teenage girls from slitting their wrists, methinks)
- The credits roll along with the shexy ladies modelling their groovy new wardrobes. Et Voila. Beauty Personified. The End.
So, effectively, the aim of the prog is to make nice, harmless old women look like sex vixens for the incontenent blind. Brill.
But whatever. If that's what they want, fine. They look **great**.
And so, gals, lets get together and take our citreons to Matalan and shamelessly use our hubbies botched Northern Rock cards to buy purple blouses, calf-length skirts and espedrilles (Because they really accentuate that "hourglass" shape that all fat girls are told they have). And then we'll go to nandos and eat salads and drink diet pepsi to show we're well classy. And then we'll engage in some old-fashioned arse licking.
Too far? I think so.
Good day.
10 years younger is a program shown at 8 o'clock each thursday on Channel 4. I hadn't seen it in about 2 years, so I was interested to see what was going down in Nicky Hambleton-Jones Town. But, to my horror, the presenter had been replaced with the nauseating Myleene Klass. At least NHJ had sass (even if she was a middle england headteacher in disguise). From what I know of her, MK's all afternoon tea and group breastfeeding sessions.
After having a bit of fun exploring the website, curiosity got the better of me, and before I knew it I was on 4od watching an episode from a few weeks ago.
In a nutshell, this was the contents of the program:
- Two women are humiliated by being placed in the town centre of some dead end town and are then scrutinised by chavvy passers by. Their average predicted age is calculated, usually something completley absurd like 95, even though they are in fact forty. They then cry.
- One chooses to undergo surgery, one doesn't.
- The surgery lady has her boobs jordanified and her face melted. The other gets her pubes waxed and her eyelashes permed.
- Syrupy MK makes the "problem cases" look freaking hawt, giving them a head to toe TU at sainsburys look after telling them that they have "such a shapely waist" and "such thin ankles".
- The plastic fantastic Lisa Eldridge attempts to make some she-man feel better by showering her with fake compliments ("You've got loveley, thick eyebrows") before caking their face with plastesine.
- Some northern geezer (who nobody's ever heard of, yet is still referred to as "britains no.1 hairdresser" at every oppurtunity) and his prostitute cut and colour the two women's hair.
- Their new looks are revealed to family and friends. Everyone cries, leading to some poor sod who's just started watching to ask "who's died?"
- The three women (MK and the losers) hit the town and do Sex and the City big time, by sipping rose-tinted champagne at some department store discount cafe. The winner of who looks younger is revealed, with the one who didn't go for surgery almost always winning (some policy to try and stop teenage girls from slitting their wrists, methinks)
- The credits roll along with the shexy ladies modelling their groovy new wardrobes. Et Voila. Beauty Personified. The End.
So, effectively, the aim of the prog is to make nice, harmless old women look like sex vixens for the incontenent blind. Brill.
But whatever. If that's what they want, fine. They look **great**.
And so, gals, lets get together and take our citreons to Matalan and shamelessly use our hubbies botched Northern Rock cards to buy purple blouses, calf-length skirts and espedrilles (Because they really accentuate that "hourglass" shape that all fat girls are told they have). And then we'll go to nandos and eat salads and drink diet pepsi to show we're well classy. And then we'll engage in some old-fashioned arse licking.
Too far? I think so.
Good day.
The credits roll along with the shexy ladies modelling their groovy new wardrobes. Et Voila. Beauty Personified.
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