Low stakes chaos is my favorite
My guiltiest reality TV obsession, explained
To quote the wise words of Chappell Roan, “I love a little drama!”
I wouldn’t say this about my personal life, but it totally applies to my television watching habits. How else could I have made it through twenty-one seasons of Grey’s Anatomy or survived ABC Family/Freeform 2010s programming (RIP Pretty Little Liars and The Secret Life of the American Teenager)? I embrace the mayhem, at least for sixty minutes or so.
This is most true when I binge watch reality TV, which admittedly is often. I have repeatedly been late to things because I needed to finish an episode of Catfish. My preferred flavor of reality show involves portrayals of everyday life peppered with some strange commotion. Head cheerleader turned pregnant teenager trying to navigate high school with a baby and her immature boyfriend? Yes, please. Wedding-obsessed women picking out overpriced dresses with their meanest acquaintances? Love it. But one program in particular holds a special place in my heart and my DVR, and has for almost a decade.
90 Day Fiancé.
For the uninitiated, 90 Day Fiancé is a TLC series featuring Americans who have fallen in love with foreigners. The show charts couples’ experiences applying/receiving the K-1 visa, which allows US citizens to bring their beloved stateside and gives them 90 days to wed. If the couple complete the paperwork and ceremony on time, the foreign partner can stay in the country. But if they don’t, the nonnative partner must return home. Throw in some language barriers, culture shocks, and judgements from family and friends and we have a party!
The series premiered in January 2014 with four featured couples, and has since grown into a full-blown franchise with more than twenty spin-offs alongside endless memes. Fans don’t have a fun name like “Bachelor Nation,” but they’re obviously engaged; no pun intended.
I first discovered 90 Day Fiancé in Season 3 when I was a freshman in college. The NYU dorms provided students with free cable and I took full advantage. As my peers blew off steam in downtown nightclubs on fake IDs or attending warehouse parties in Bushwick, I found my peace under the covers of my twin-sized bed, seeing whether Rebecca from Georgia and Zied from Tunisia would ever get past their cultural differences (spoiler alert: no) or how quickly Darcey from Connecticut can beautify herself in a Heathrow Airport bathroom before meeting her British boyfriend Tom (spoiler alert: a little over ninety minutes).
I introduced my mom to the show during winter break and she, too, was fascinated. We recorded the episodes and watched together, offering commentary on who we thought should break up and who we hoped might make it. We also tuned in to 90 Day Fiancé: Happily Ever After?, which follows the post-wedding story of fan favorite couples, to see if our predictions were correct. Then we met new folks on 90 Day Fiancé: Before the 90 Days (people not quite ready to propose), 90 Day Fiancé: The Single Life (people for whom it doesn’t work out finding new romance), and 90 Day Fiancé: The Other Way (Americans moving to other countries to be with their partners).
The entire franchise became my favorite distraction as I worked my way through undergrad. At the risk of sounding like a jerk, seeing the cast’s problems made me feel better concerning my own. Sure, I was unwillingly single, but that was better than being married to someone who you could only communicate with through an iPhone translator. Yes, I was overworked, but I wasn’t broke from visa filing fees. Above all, my drama wasn’t playing out in front of a camera; just in the confines of my anxious head.
My relationship to 90 Day Fiancé changed during the pandemic, the same point at which everything in my life changed.
I still watched episodes alongside its various sister shows, but it wasn’t about comparing myself to the cast members anymore. I wanted to feel normal in a world where nothing was. I couldn’t do most of the things I used to do such as going to class or events or really outside. Yet I could still indulge in my favorite comfort TV, wrapping myself in their havoc instead of that around me.
The showrunners behind 90 Day totally understood that people everywhere were doing this. They produced pandemic-era-specific content showing members of the cast navigating the crisis all over the world: grocery shopping under France’s strict lockdown, desperate to catch flights out of Ecuador, virtual learning struggles throughout the US. They also started recording cast members watching old episodes at home in a spin-off called 90 Day Fiancé: Pillow Talk, where they made snacks and snarky comments. Truly, for that time period, the couples were exactly like the rest of us.
Another four years have passed and I’m still watching with yet another purpose: it feeds my need for what I call “low stakes chaos.” This is a sort of controllable madness that leaves you with a bit of a thrill but no serious impact. Drunk-liking an ex’s Instagram post. Ordering so much Chinese takeout they give you six sets of chopsticks. Any social event that begins after 9 PM. All examples of what I’m talking about.
I used to live for this stuff in my early twenties, but nowadays I mostly want to experience it second-hand; to gawk at someone making the kooky decision without doing anything myself. I’m tired, I’m more sensible, but I’m not boring! 90 Day Fiancé is filled with endless cases of exactly what I need. While I’ve learned my lesson in this department, I’m glad many other people haven’t, and I’ll support them in their journeys to maybe eventually growing out of it, too, one Sunday episode at a time.
Rachel’s Weekly Recs:
It’s Restaurant Week in New York City (well… 3.5 weeks; they really need better branding). It’s a great opportunity to try out places you might not otherwise go for their 2-course lunch and 3-course dinner deals. Among my favorites is ABC Kitchen in Union Square, which features a tasty menu and chic decor.
Between the excessively hot weather and my over-packed calendar of outdoor activities, it’s more important than ever to hydrate. I’m not quite cool enough to be a part of the Stanley cup trend—read here, if confused—however I am a fan of their IceFlow Insulated bottle. Can confirm it keeps drinks cold for an entire weekend.
Shopping for pants is a nightmare, but I’ve been wanting to try barrel-cut jeans for some time. They have wide, curved legs with a fitted waist. I gave these from American Eagle a try and not only did I adore the fit, the price point is also super reasonable for the quality.