Earlier this month, Netflix debuted Love Is Blind, a reality show in which women and men speak to each other for a couple of days in small, individual pods, and then determine whether to get married, all without ever having laid eyes on each other.
It’s a watch — that the viewing equivalent of ingesting a berry LaCroix. However, the series has one large problem, an issue. No, it is not the marriage assumption or the fact that each one of the couples is heterosexual and conventionally appealing.
It’s the simple fact that even though none of their dates see them everybody keeps getting dressed up. If love is blind, why not wear sweats?
Jessica, a 34-year-old
Take Jessica, a 34-year-old regional manager in Illinois, who would like to explore the prospect of connecting with someone who doesn’t meet her rigid set of standards each.
Here she is, at a pale blue gown, with a slit on strappy high heels, and the side, settling into her pod.
Here’s Cameron, a 28-year-old scientist, sitting in a suit and tie.
And Aly, 36, a nurse-client relations director, in a royal blue gown.
All of these look great. They’re all dressed like they’re on their way to a university friend’s wedding, in which, if all goes to plan, they’ll encounter an ex and make them seethe with jealousy and regret.
And while I question their styling and beauty choices, I must ask?
The individual on the other side of the pod won’t observe all. That’s the entire point of the show. Why don’t you take advantage of the banana’s assumption?
Slip into a pair of a coffee-stained sweater that is lightly and sweatpants rather, and make yourself comfortable as you try to decide whether you would like to devote the rest of your life with a voice you have spoken with five occasions?
As the week goes on, a few contestants do decide to cut loose more so than Barnett, the show fuckboy.
This guy gets it.
Likely, the remaining contestants just need to look nice and I respect that. But that.
When it’s for a TV show, or just for your entertainment, dating today is about sitting in a room on your own, spilling takeout in your middle-school camp shirt from 2004, and sending saucy messages to someone you’ll likely never end up going out with. Romance!