High Trash

Not as in high brow trash. As in trash of the trashiest order.

I feel a little bit dirty when I think about how much I love Gossip Girl. It is hideously predictable. Heinously overacted. Hilariously unlikely. I mean the chances of such hot hot HOT humans actually being on 16 years old is laughable. And them being served cocktails in New York bars (legal age = 21 there, right?) until their spines turn to tequila is hysterical.

But, like all my other TVDVD addictions, I am well and truly hooked. It could be the traditional tale of fish out of water, the divinely-jawed Daniel Humphries from Brooklyn with a scholarship to the Upper East Side. It could be the inherent bitchiness of high school that is portrayed with accurate hyperbole. It could be the lavish party scenes or nonchanlant way these children talk about jumping a private jet to Europe, filling me with such envy that I need to vicariously live through them. It could be the incredibly and impossibly gorgeous Blake Lively with her stunning blonde tresses and her healthy and voluptuous butt that are both just hypnotising. It could possibly the the angles of Chuck, with his sculpted eyebrows and lineated eyes, and the muscle that he flexes in his jaw.

But it is probably just because I have a penchant for the melodramatic. Gossip Girl is almost a bonnet drama - unrealistically tight dresses, overly embellished curls of hair, inexplicable social mores. It is very Dangerous Liasons. Like a TV version of Cruel Intentions.

And now I have churned my way through season 2, what's a girl to do?
You know you love me. XOXO