Selling Sunset: big hair, bandage dresses – and feminist inspo?
WORDS 6
going to love a reality TV show about house porn in Beverley Hills. I binge-watched Selling Sunset, lapping up this blingy combination of Through The Keyhole and Cribs. What I didn’t predict, though, was how much respect I’d have for the show’s shiny cast of female estate agents.
As Jason Oppenheim, co-owner of the brokerage where the show is filmed, says, ‘It’s our name on the door but it’s these kick-ass women who make the agency what it is.’
We all know how most women in reality TV shows are portrayed. The lives of MIC and TOWIE girls revolve around dating dramas and gossip about men. Sometimes, women are so reduced to their relationships that even the title of the show insists on it – see The Real Housewives Of… franchise.
I often wonder if such shows even know the Bechdel test exists. A method for establishing a show’s feminist credentials, it involves asking how often a scene features two women talking about something other than men. Interestingly, it is a standard Selling Sunset passes in spades.
At the heart of this show is a glossy posse
I WAS ALWAYS
of ballsy, professional women focused not on boys but on making their fortunes. They barely have time to think about dating between hustling, pinning down listings, snagging clients, doing viewings and closing multimillion-dollar property deals.
These women prioritise professionalism above all else, which is why Heather and Maya refuse to leave their jobs when their partners move town, why Christine doesn’t bother dating for the first series and Chrishell’s husband is merely a footnote. Why, Mary is so committed to selling houses she even closes a sale at her wedding.
I love watching these girls kick ass in their jobs: seeing Chrishell create a whole new market for the agency selling homes in The Valley, and Davina pull in an $75m listing – the biggest the office has ever had.
Watching them work gives me strength. I admire their tenacity; the candid way they talk about cash; how decisive and direct they are – qualities British businesswomen could emulate. I like that they are grownups in their thirties and forties, surrounded by other professional women: architects, designers, art gallery owners, entrepreneurs.
At a time when reality TV can feel questionable, after the tragic deaths of Love Island cast members and concerns about exploitation, it’s reassuring to see strong female characters confidently getting what they want.
I don’t want to argue about whether it’s feminist to wear stilettos and a bandage dress (although I’d say it is). To me, Selling Sunset does something really interesting – it offers a feminist critique of what life is really like for women in business. It shows women’s successes but also highlights the problematic compromises we make: doing pregnancy tests in the office, wearing uncomfortable heels and clothes to look slick, juggling work with motherhood and – most frustrating – going to meetings with men we think want to work with us who it turns out just want to get us into bed. I admire Selling Sunset’s women’s tenacity in tackling the frustrations we all face.
Now people are suggesting the show is fake. Have they never seen reality TV before? Have they never been to LA? Of course some of what we’re watching is set up, but is it so far-fetched to watch professional woman killing it?
‘Selling Sunset’ is on Netflix now