Why are we still keeping up with
They’re happy to admit they don’t have to sing, dance or act to keep hold of their reality TV crown, so what does the continued success of Kris, Kim, Kourtney, Khloe, Kylie and Kendall tell us about the world right now? Kelly Dennett reports.
Fifteen years ago Variety journalist Brian Lowry sat down having watched the very first episode of Keeping up with the Kardashians, and wrote, ‘‘Once you get past Kim’s prominently displayed assets, there’s not much of a show here, and no discernible premise.’’
Lowry reported what most critics chorused in 2007, after the debut of the reality series. ‘‘It is purely about some desperate women climbing to the margins of fame,’’ the New York Times chirped. And as the show, unbelievably it seems, gained popularity, one particularly cruel Washington Times piece asked, ‘‘How can a glorified porn star rise from bed to national esteem in such a few short years?’’
This week the Kardashians’ new series with American streamer Hulu, The Kardashians, returns the tight-knit power family to screens. With the deal reportedly worth $100 million, you could say the clan are laughing all the way to the bank. ‘‘We don’t have to sing or dance or act,’’ Kim Kardashian unapologetically told Variety in March. ‘‘We get to live our lives – and hey, we made it. I don’t know what to tell you.’’
Despite those loudest critics, Keeping Up with the Kardashians, starring momager Kris Jenner, eldest daughters Kim, Kourtney and Khloe, and younger beauty and modelling moguls Kylie and Kendall Jenner, held onto audiences of millions for 15 years, 20 seasons, and several spinoffs. The women, former virtual nobodies, are now a veritable delight of billionaires, businesswomen, influencers, and occasional social issue advocates. While they launched off the back of the likes of Paris Hilton’s The Simple Life and Hugh Hefner’s Girls of the Playboy Mansion, which focused on looks, wealth and ‘‘making it’’, the Kardashians heralded the arrival of a new Hollywood: less limousines-chandeliers-butlers-withsilver-spoons, and more customised
Range Rovers, high-spec architectural homes and personal trainers.
Their profile had already been woven into the tapestry of celebrity infamy by their late patriarch Robert Kardashian, who helped defend OJ Simpson, while matriarch Kris Jenner was married to an All Black equivalent, beloved Olympian Bruce Jenner. And yes, Kim Kardashian had a sex tape. (It’s worth noting the tape was released without her consent.)
Although the Kardashian-Jenners have prevailed despite repeated allegations of cultural appropriation, unattainable beauty standards, and tone-deaf privilege, the irony is that they’re at the height of their fame. Kim Kardashian, that lowly ‘‘porn star’’, has 280 million followers on Instagram alone, and her shapewear company Skims has been valued at $US3 billion.
Despite the proliferation of rich people on reality TV, more so than ever audiences both cannot seem to stand the not-doing-it-tough crowd, nor get enough of them. The Kardashians are both #girlboss goals, and infuriatingly oblivious to the connections and ready-made wealth that brought them there.
And so while the world continues to grapple with the Covid-19 pandemic, the climate crises, and the Ukraine war – to name a few – it will also sit down this week to watch the cashedup Kardashians continue to live their best lives.
‘‘I think [in the future] academics will write books on, ‘wow, what we were thinking’,’’ says social anthropologist Dr Kirsten Zemke from the University of Auckland. ‘‘We’ll analyse ourselves as society – what was going on with us that made us so fascinated with this family? What is it telling us about how things are going with humans in the world, that this is what we’re taking pleasure from?’’
Zemke, who grew up in the same Los Angeles area the Kardashians made famous, Calabasas, admits she knows the Kardashians’ names, their babies’ names, and their partners’ names, but twice repeats: ‘‘I wouldn’t call myself a fan.’’ She laughs – ‘‘There’s obviously a lot of people who must not be admitting it.’’
Indeed – I ask around, anyone want to talk about the Kardashians? Nobody wants to admit to watching, not even hate watching, and a colleague asks, genuinely, why I would want to write about them. Of all the people I contact, model and mum Juniper Moon is the only one who’ll chat – and in true fan style, for a week after she continues to send me all the latest Kardashian gossip.
Like many others, Moon was mesmerised by the family’s ‘‘completely stunning’’ wealth. ‘‘Like, how someone can have that kind of wealth, let alone multiple members of a family. It wasn’t until they all became seriously rich, rich, that I was like, OK, clearly they’re doing something right, maybe not moral or ethical or logical, but they’re doing something.’’
Viewers have witnessed marriages, divorces, cheating scandals, substance abuse, health scares, the birth of children, and the depiction of Caitlin Jenner’s transition journey – but alongside the selfie sticks and photo shoots is a family that sticks together. Critics drew comparisons with The Brady Bunch.
Zemke compares the family to the royals, in terms of their commercial appeal. They’re also funny, and trendy – they keep viewers in the zeitgeist. Despite their glittering lifestyles, Keeping Up didn’t stray too far from the original premise of reality TV: In 1948 Candid Camera pranked members of the public on film (when not capturing their personal lives falling apart, the Kardashians routinely played practical jokes on each other); in 1973 An American Family was the first fly-on-thewall-style filming of a suburban family called the Louds; in 1992 that formula was repeated by The Real World’s young flatmates; and in Australia in the 2000s, Big Brother drew huge audiences to strangers thrown together in a purpose-built filmstudio-home.
But sometime in the past decade a subgenre of reality TV took off, opening the doors on luxurious lives and petty problems of the privileged (Selling Sunset, Real Housewives of Beverly Hills). Keeping Up managed to blend suburban family antics with the lives of the mega rich.
‘‘Schadenfreude,’’ says Zemke. ‘‘People enjoy watching people and their perils, and rich people have problems too. Perhaps there is some pleasure in that... When life is not going well you can look over there and watch something entertaining. They’re the capitalism dream – if you work hard, you can have this, too.’’
‘‘How many billionaires do you know who invite you into their homes and let you see that billionaire lifestyle?’’ says public relations expert Deborah Pead. ‘‘It’s quite extraordinary really.’’
Pead sees the Kardashians’ influence even in New Zealand, where their relevance is arguably diluted. Nonetheless, young women in particular have embraced the ‘more is more’ look in a world that once valued a size zero. Kim Kardashian has excellently timed single-handedly bringing back the tracksuit.
‘‘I don’t even have to look at Instagram, or TikTok. I can just go down to the Viaduct on a Saturday evening and see the impact,’’ says Pead. ‘‘[Women] dress like the Kardashians, they style their hair like the Kardashians, they accentuate their curves like the Kardashians.’’
Pead says despite the common cop that the clan are famous for being famous, the Kardashians have carved out a global superbrand among the likes of Coke or Apple – and that doesn’t necessarily come easy, requiring constant evolution to stay commercially and culturally relevant. She contrasts the Kardashians to the once-glamorous Playboy brand, which failed to stay current amid a women’s empowerment movement.
‘‘I don’t even have to look at Instagram, or TikTok. I can just go down to the Viaduct on a Saturday evening and see their impact. ’’ Deborah Pead
Their bankability has led New Zealand brands to seek their influence. Collagen company Dose and Co partnered with Khloe Kardashian in 2020, and Manuka Doctor signed on Kourtney Kardashian as an ambassador in 2016. Pead says one of her clients made inquiries about getting so much as a single Instagram endorsement and the starting price was US $500,000 (NZ$719,000).
‘‘We said we’d think about it,’’ laughs Pead. With their capital appeal, Moon wonders if there is a sexism element to the critique of the Kardashians, and anyone who admits to watching. The Guardian has reported research showing female reality TV stars are more likely to labelled as evil, annoying or attention-seeking. While researchers focused on shows involving strangers, like Love Island, they discovered, having trawled through tens of thousands of social media posts, that women were shamed for their choices, including their relationships and how they looked.
Moon says owning up to being a Kardashianwatcher is ‘‘hard to admit. I’m not sure if it’s because of the heavy criticism they receive… or if it’s one of those things where women/girls are shamed by society for liking anything at all. I think for me it’s the equivalent of men watching high profile sportsmen, you’re seeing your (often) problematic hero live your dream life’’.
Zemke agrees. ‘‘There has always been a denigrating of things that women like... whereas perhaps men can like rugby or sport. Perhaps there is some gendered thing, that it’s not as important or as artistic or real.’’
While Pead doesn’t think the Kardashians deliberately set out to offend, characterising their missteps as ‘‘mistakes, silly slip ups’’, Zemke acknowledges the age-old ‘‘problematic fave’’ conundrum – separating the artist from the art.
‘‘Most egregious would be that they’re materialistic,’’ Zemke says.
‘‘I’m sure they try to use their platform for something positive, but they don’t seem to be doing something out of self-service. Which is not that problematic, who are we to judge? I don’t know if they’re toxic, but they represent some toxicity in our society. We could do better than to valorise them.’’
I asked AUT professor of film and popular culture, Lorna Piatti-Farnell, whether the Kardashians exhibit any positive role-modelling.
While pointing out we all have a different idea of what a role model is, she suspects the relatability of their storylines will be a factor, ‘‘however curated and carefully narrated that might be... For example Kylie’s recent unexpected candid posts and pictures about the difficulties of motherhood the second time around... this is very different from when she had her first child, and her posts projected a very ‘perfect’ and idealised image of being a mum.’’
That said, ‘‘the Kardshians do live a life of privilege... so it is important that we maintain an awareness about how their experiences, in many ways, cannot possibly resonate fully with many.’’
Pead believes Kim Kardashian, who is studying to be a lawyer and used her profile to help free prisoner Alice Johnson, will have an evolving sense of purpose as she ages. ‘‘I wouldn’t be surprised if she becomes some kind of human rights ambassador, or goes into politics. There is sort of a blueprint by Ronald Reagan and Donald Trump.’’ As for the rest of them: ‘‘They’ve demonstrated their staying power. In the celebrity world they’re the ultra-marathon runners. The only celebrities to have outrun them would be Keith Richards, Mick Jagger and the Queen.’’
Zemke points out that the Kardashians’ children may be the next generation to take up the mantle. Should the adults wish to get away or retire, ‘‘it would be interesting, I don’t think the media would let them go that easily.’’
The Kardashians will debut on Disney+ in New Zealand on April 14.