Why not lose yourself to the lush shores of Love Island?
The reality TV show is the perfect way to forget about Britain’s political strife, says Judith Woods
Love Island. Don’t pretend you’ve not heard of it. Or that you don’t absolutely hate it. Even though you’ve never seen it. Up until now, an involuntary shudder has been just about the only acceptable response in polite society. That, and the doddery high court admission that you didn’t even know there was an ITV2.
But we are living in extraordinarily stressful times; irreconcilable Brexit division is ripping the country apart, the internecine Tory leadership contest is tearing the party asunder and now we must do battle with Donald Trump’s faux naif rudeness, as he cunningly tests not just the stiffest of our upper lips but the strength of our resolve.
Frankly, Love Island is the nearest the nation has to panem et circenses. So why not take a ringside seat and for an hour every day allow a reality show to help you to forget?
Last night saw the launch of the fifth series and with it a long-overdue middle-class amnesty, giving all National Trust members carte blanche to tune in without risk of being kicked out of the WI. Probably. By way of reassurance; there’s always an awful lot more conversation than there is action.
Controversy has surrounded the show after it emerged two contestants – from different series – were later found dead in separate incidents. This year, producers have pledged to provide increased psychological support. Whether a promise to increase diversity turns out to be more than a load of Mallorcan hot air remains to be seen. But as with every reality show, it’s all about the casting of the characters.
In a nutshell, Love Island is fascinating because it’s about people. Young, beautiful and
unburdened by self-awareness, the contestants are looking to find The One. Could it be they are actually trying to find themselves? As if. Who’s got the bandwidth for psychoanalytical insight when there’s warm rosé to be necked from plastic goblets? As for those of us who watch it (for anthropological reasons, obviously) we become so engrossed, it’s like the Game of Thrones finale – every single night.
So come, join us. It’s a 21st century treatment of the age-old clash between Mars and Venus and the complicated, frustrating and sometimes duplicitous truth behind the boy-meets-girl myth of happily ever after.
Of course, if you’re more turned on by war and the pity of war and would genuinely prefer to watch Andrea Leadsom and Dominic Raab running
It’s a 21st century treatment of the ageold clash between Mars and Venus
each other through with ideological Valyrian steel, go right ahead.
But my advice to the rest of you would be this; give yourself a break, make a nice cup of tea and for a precious hour each evening lose yourself in the sun-kissed, palm-fringed parallel world of Love Island. In the meantime, here’s a guide to Love Island lingo: Grafting: working hard to win over someone by admiring their Sanskrit tattoos. Compliments such as “I love your implants” also do the trick. Muggy: untrustworthy behaviour, such as cracking on with another person’s partner.
Melt: either a soppy bloke getting sentimental or anyone who lacks backbone or character.
Pied off: the emotional equivalent of a custard pie in the face; rejection and generally being made to look even more ridiculous than tourniquet-tight white jeans or swimwear and stilettos. Salty: it can mean sexy or its polar opposite, highly attractive or horribly aggressive. Use with caution. Sticking it on: a phrase used by the blokes to describe getting it on à la Barry White. Not to be confused with gaining entry to the Do Bits Society. The ick: getting the ick means suddenly feeling physically repelled by your partner.
Eggs in one basket: a high-risk strategy that involves coupling up with one partner to the exclusion of others, even alluring new arrivals who may have tinier bikinis. Anyone not coupled up faces reluctant eviction from the villa; it’s essentially an accelerated version of marriage. Cracking on: coming to terms with a break-up by immediately sticking it on the next nearest housemate. With a £50,000 prize for the winners, there’s no time for wallowing. Got a text: contestants have no access to social media so getting a text is a big deal. Huge. It means that something – anything – is going to happen to alleviate the boredom of paradise. Doing Bits: sex. Essential for entry to the Do Bits Society. Breadcrumbing: leading someone on little by little, and allowing plenty of scope to bail if someone better comes along.
My type on paper: used to describe someone who is the sort of person you would be attracted to in theory. In practice, it’s a different story and thank the Lord for that or the series wouldn’t last anything like the next eight glorious weeks.