AND FINALLY
Party girls break their bad habits
SOME of you may have seen the Channel 5 series Bad Habits, Holy Orders, on Thursday nights. Next week is the last, but it’s easy to catch up.
The series has made a big impression on me — reinforcing my conviction that within so many people there’s a vacuum. Since nature abhors a vacuum, it’s easy for bad things to fill the space — in this case, mindless partying, drinking and sex.
It’s a fascinating experiment. Five young self-confessed ‘party animals’ head to an unknown place for a reality TV show. But Paige, Tyla, Rebecca, Gabbi and Sarah aren’t told it’s the Sacred Heart convent, in Swaffham, Norfolk. The challenge was to see how they got on without their phones, make-up, booze, clubbing — a whole lifestyle.
How would a lingerie model, dancer, nightclub hostess cope? Not to mention the tattooed wild child Rebecca who’s lost count of the number of men she’s slept with, and whose father detests her habits.
These women have turned themselves into brainless sex objects. Will they be able to see there is much more to life? At first the answer is no. They’re shocked, bored and try to rebel. But since then we have seen touching conversations, confusion — and change.
When the girls are temporarily allowed the confiscated phones, the lingerie model shows a sweet nun her sexy selfies. She looks so ashamed — but the nun tells her gently that she has seen the real Gabbi, so those pictures are meaningless. Near to tears, the pretty girl says how much that means to her.
I recently wrote a big piece in the Mail about the boozy, promiscuous world of reality TV shows such as Geordie Shore — the very world of these girls. Yet the calm atmosphere of the convent and the kindness of the nuns infiltrates their hearts.
Yes, real transformation is possible — even for the sinner. The space within the human spirit represents a great yearning for something more. For love, for honesty, for kindness, for respect, for meaning.
Bel answers readers’ questions on emotional and relationship problems each week. Write to Bel Mooney, Daily Mail, 2 Derry Street, london W8 5TT, or email bel.mooney@dailymail.co.uk. A pseudonym will be used if you wish. Bel reads all letters but regrets she cannot enter into personal correspondence.