I think people are watching rather too many programmes on the E! Entertainment channel.

Stretch limos for birthday parties, a boob job as a ‘present’ for a 19-year-old girl to reward her for overcoming her drug addiction (featured recently on Arani Issa) and beauty pageants for toddlers in order to help them develop their ‘personality’.

Every time I hear of a new over-the-top trend, it always sounds like something that Hollywood celebrities in LA are doing, as chronicled with gossipy relish by E! This artificial life that is churned out on the various reality shows is harmless enough if it is viewed for what it is: meaningless froth. Judging from what I see around me, however, my suspicion is that Maltese girls (especially) have actually convinced themselves that they should, they must, live like celebrities because that is how ‘everyone’ aspires to live.

You can detect the gleam in their eye as they embrace the latest craze and attempt to mimic it – the red carpet ‘premieres’ of home grown dramas such as Gizelle spring to mind, with their evening dresses and swept-up hair and fans queuing for autographs. There’s nothing wrong with it, of course; it provides a frisson of excitement on a small island where television popularity is easily achieved. But there is something almost poignant about how desperate we are to create our own celebrity culture, even though it can only ever be a very pale imitation of the real thing. Suffice it to say that most of our actors, singers, TV presenters and other ‘personalities’ quickly lose their glamour when you see them toiling away behind a desk at their day job just like everyone else. That’s when they’re not spotted selling panties at the monti.

We’re living in a parallel universe where part of the island is stuck in a Dante-like circle of Hell, forever doomed to squabble about the past. As for the other part, it’s not so much that they’ve moved on, but that they’ve catapulted themselves into another stratosphere altogether.

While politicians and their respective entourages claw, bite and scratch each other’s eyes out on every medium available, bickering over the meaning of ‘apology’ and picking at scab wounds of hurts which will never be allowed to heal – there are at least two generations out there who would prefer to keep up with the Kardashians instead.

Plastic fantastic

The three rich, beautiful Kardashian sisters are famous for being famous and only seem to have one concern – how to look as good as possible in order to land a ‘cover’ (i.e. to be asked to pose for the front cover of a magazine, preferably naked). Egged on by their equally superficial mother, who is their manager, they compete unabashedly with each other, much to the bemusement of their stepfather who is trying (unsuccessfully) to prevent this lifestyle from influencing the two younger half-sisters.

I’m not going to lie to you – I watch this so-called reality show precisely because I can switch off. It’s bliss to find myself escaping mindlessly into this other world, and even though I shake my head at their banality as they live out their lives for the cameras and for our benefit, I keep watching.

In terms of looks, many 20-something Maltese girls could give the Kardashians a run for their money, but it’s not just in the beauty stakes that we seem to be emulating celebrities. The bimbo factor has definitely quadrupled too. Between the pouting collagen lips, the silicone breasts, fluttering eyelashes and childlike voice, it’s like Barbie and the Stepford Wives have been rolled into one. It’s also like feminism never happened.

I have a concrete example to support this theory: every time I pass through Naxxar I am confronted by a billboard of a woman’s ample cleavage advertising an internet radio station. Her head is cut off. I had a friendly conversation with the marketing person who created the billboard, who sees nothing in it that is offensive to women. He tried to convince me that he is an equal opportunity advertiser because there is a billboard with a man’s naked torso in Marsa – which, as I pointed out, is not quite the same thing. I also spoke to the National Commission for the Promotion of Equality who confirmed that no one has complained. Apparently, it’s OK to objectify a woman’s body to sell a product and render her inhuman by not showing her face. So you see it’s official, feminism is dead.

I’ve noticed that even intelligent girls seem to feel the need to turn themselves into sex kittens – a phenomenon which always makes me wonder if they are afraid that their brains will turn men off, so they feel a need to flaunt their sexuality? I’m afraid my only answer to this is an inarticulate expression: “boqq”.

Start them young

I am gripped by similar feelings when I watch something like Little Miss Perfect, or Tantrums and Tiaras – both dedicated to children’s beauty pageants in the United States. Now if there is anything that makes me see red it’s these pageants, and yet I am morbidly fascinated by the pushy (often obese) mothers who seem to be living through their little daughters in order to capture the dream of becoming a princess which has always eluded them. You just know that, as they watch their little girl twirling up there in her miniature ball gown, with her grotesquely made up face and big 1980s hair, you just know that the mother wants to be up there on the stage herself and would probably trample all the little four-year-olds in a minute, given half the chance.

I think I almost threw up when one mother gazed at her daughter and cried: “I could never be as pretty as you”.

We have the equivalent here of course – as witnessed by the recent television footage of Ivan Gaffiero’s events for children of all ages. The ambitious mothers had similar grandiose aspirations for their offspring, and had convinced themselves that strutting on a stage to waves of applause is what every two-year-old really, really wants. There were lots of references to “self-confidence” and “personality” and “to help her overcome her shyness”, but from what I see around me, shyness in children is the least of our problems. I think we have the opposite problem: too many obnoxious kids with no manners, who mouth off and speak cheekily back to adults. But as long as they have mastered the catwalk, then I guess they have it made.

Blame TV?

It’s easy to blame “the media” (for which read, TV) for all this, but I think that’s just too facile an explanation. After all if kids today are being influenced by American cable shows, in the past, Italian TV also left its heavy mark on people’s psyche, so much so that the 30-something generation is more comfortable with Italian popular culture because that’s what they grew up with.

You can hear it in the language – 35-year-olds pepper their language with Italian expressions, whereas today’s kids go around saying “awesome” and even their accents sound more American than British (much to the hand-wringing of the God Save the Queen brigade).

What has changed is that the Hollywood celebrity culture has been translated into the way people actually live. Everything – from birthday parties to weddings – has to be bigger, better, flashier. Splash your cash (or, more precisely, your Visa) around so that you can be seen to be living this make-believe life and be the envy of your neighbours (a new commercial for a furniture company actually uses this as a slogan).

And if one day it all collapses because everything was bought on credit and your income just cannot cover your expensive lifestyle, no worries. There’s always time for one last party to make sure you go out in style – just don’t forget to book the stretch limo.

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