Love Island for the over-50s? Starring our columnist Ulrika Jonsson
This month… ULRIKA JONSSON explores the cultural phenomenon that is LoveIsland, and explains why a series for the older generation could seriously teach the young ones a thing or two…
Ilove LoveIsland – almost as much as I hate the whole concept. There’s something tribal, sexist and misogynistic about the whole thing which, weirdly, contributes to my excitement! I wouldn’t call it a ‘guilty pleasure’ – I just feel utterly indulgent and foolish, luxurious and very flaming nosy, all rolled into one, when I watch it.
I dipped my toe in the Love Island water for the first time two series ago, when I thought it would be a bonding experience with my two teenage daughters, aged 15 and 19. Turns out, the oldest one walked out of the room after four minutes because I ‘talked too much’. Oh, Lord!
But there is so much to talk about! I mean, who would have thought that all those girls with fake boobs, replica hair, false eyelashes and over-inflated lips could generate so many conversations? But they do.
I would have killed for a show like Love Island when I was a teenager. Perhaps that’s why
I’m so intrigued. I was a late developer, both physically and in the boy/girl stakes.
I was a nervous, anxious girl who, despite having been brought up a tomboy – messing around with cars and building things with my dad – felt utterly floored in the presence of boys.
My teenage years were one long, self-conscious anxiety attack. And there was NO manual about boys – no references, apart from my mum’s occasional mention of ‘how things had been’ in the Fifties.
So, my initial thought on watching Love Island for the first time – and as a single, 52-year-old female was, ‘ Why don’t we have Love Island 50-Plus?’
I’m very serious. It would be utterly brilliant watching men and women of a ‘certain age’, walking around in, presumably, less-skimpy bikinis. In my case, it would probably be a binliner and some flip-flops; no make-up and my HRT to hand.
Every woman would display her individual
symptoms of the menopause – we’re each of us so different, after all. Just imagine the banter – trying to crack on with a right ‘sort’ and then walking away, immediately forgetting what the bloke’s name was.
There would be women who refuse to age gracefully and who have had every cosmetic procedure available – but others who will have chosen the ‘natural’ route.
Most of us would be emotional, tearful and seem
– to the rest of the world – completely unreasonable. Others would betray signs of chronic anxiety, and the night cameras would pick up on all the women getting up for wees 20 times a night.
There would be no sign of a six-pack with the guys – just a whole load of dad bods and some inevitable bragging about cars/ houses/women from those going through their mid-life crises.
I know this might sound like a horror movie to some, but imagine the atmosphere when a bunch of 50-pluses start getting ‘muggy’?! I actually think it would serve two very important purposes: firstly, comedy. Despite the nightmare that is the menopause for many women, we also know that we are the best at taking the mick out of ourselves. Most of us would be laughing like drains, and that would create some amazing bonding.
But perhaps, most crucially, because everyone is interested in relationships – whatever age – our youngsters would watch this, and they would inadvertently be learning something.
They would learn what they’ve got coming to them because, unbelievably, they’re not untouchable. But I firmly believe they would understand and respect the ageing process a bit more. I can’t think of many shows about the 50-pluses, and I think this is a missed opportunity.
I don’t want to feel like my life’s over at 52-and-a-half – I still want to ‘catch feelings’ and feel that people are interested in my generation. We have so much experience, humour and insight to offer – we’re not ‘melts’ like the majority of those on Love Island now.
So, let’s say ‘Bye, Felicia’ to the 20-somethings and hello to the 50-somethings, because this idea is nothing short of ‘ lit’. It’s ‘peng’ – and you know it…