Burn the Makeover Movie
There’s a lot of things I don’t miss about the noughties; low rise jeans and Juicy Couture velour rank amongst them. but the trend I most despise is the Makeover Movie. Also, here’s a disclaimer for the guys in the back; yes, being a feminist and an “ugly” teenager who had to wait till she was eighteen until her first kiss influences my opinion on this. It’s not that I “wouldn’t have a problem” if I was hot, it’s a case of I wouldn’t be the target audience. These movies are a goldmine of daydreams for nerdy teenage girls who harbour unobtainable popular crushes (*raises hand in admittance). They feed the mentality that “it’s not me, it’s my face/body/fashion/anything that makes up my identity and if I change it he’ll fall hopelessly in love with me and I can design the interior of our castle.” The makeover movie is a sub genre of teen films that follow a basic formula: Girl is unattractive, she likes boy who is attractive, witty sidekick persuades her to undergo a makeover, she is suddenly attractive because she now has make-up, contact lenses, and clothes that fit, boy likes her back, happily ever after. The thing is this template sells us fantasy dressed up in a high school guise; in the real world, a lovely, yet slightly plain looking girl who gets a "makeover" will look pretty much the same and odds are, the guy she likes will probably not glance her way regardless of what she wears. The problem is the makeover plot relies on and improbable event happening, but frames it in a realistic setting. The movies should be labelled fantasy as their plot lines are akin to Cinderella landing the cover of Sport Illustrated because the Prince found a girl who the glass bikini fits. But we bask in these films of the fantastical without any care for their source. Like the Miller's daughter in Rumplestiltskin, the director appears to turn the straw of everyday life into gold and we choose not to question his methods. This impossible feat is a trick of the eye; deep down we know this, yet we hold the counterfeit gold to our chests and wish we could afford the real deal.