Every night at five to nine, I brew myself a cup of peppermint tea, tuck myself into bed, open up my laptop and head over to the ITV website, right in time for the daily live showing of my most recent guilty pleasure, Love Island.
I’ve lost count of the number of times people have mocked or chastised me for this "low-brow" habit, for my love of this seemingly frivolous show, for my investment in the romantic hopes of strangers on TV. I will admit it — there is something delightfully absurd in devoting an hour each day over the course of eight weeks to a reality TV show. But if there’s one thing I am, to quote 2018 contestant Georgia Steele, it’s loyal, babes.
But there is also a sense of familiarity and routine imparted by such a ritual, as well as an ever-growing community of fellow Love Island aficionados with whom to connect over social media and the office water cooler. It’s a pop culture phenomenon that generates endless commentary, hilarious memes, fashion statements and an entirely new lexicon (think "mugging off" and "cracking on") each summer.
But it’s not just mindless fun. Love Island also forces the realities of everyday life into the public arena — most importantly, the more pernicious and stigmatised realities of friendships and relationships, such as emotional abuse, mental instability, misogyny and other harmful behaviours.
Love Island is a conversation starter, and can be hugely educational. Adam Collard’s Machiavellian machinations in season 4 introduced the term "gaslighting" to a new generation of Twitter users, prompting conversations about emotional manipulation in relationships, and hopefully enabling viewers to recognise the warning signs in their own homes.
Love Island can be joyful too, and surprisingly relatable. I may not be a drop-dead gorgeous bronzed Instagram model, but I am nevertheless a 27-year-old single woman well-acquainted with the trials and tribulations of 21st-century dating. I see much of myself in the silly little joys and worries of the Islanders as they navigate new "situation-ships" and relationships. Over eight weeks, we watch the contestants run the gamut of romantic emotions, and we come to develop a certain fondness for these ever-hopeful singletons, willing as they are to risk public infamy in the pursuit of love.
Besides, in addition to blossoming crushes and romantic entanglements, real heartfelt friendships develop. Love, be it platonic or romantic, is a delight to witness.
That’s not to say that Love Island is without flaws. Since its revival in 2015, the show has been rightly criticised for its uncritical promotion of idealised body types (think flawless, slender, silicon-pumped and bronzed), lack of racial diversity, failure to provide adequate aftercare to contestants and fast-fashion sponsorship deals.
It undeniably contributes to unrealistic Western expectations of beauty and thinness, and propels its contestants into a hellish world of fame, brand deals and nightclub tours. Two contestants have taken their own lives in the aftermath of the show, and although the blame cannot be laid solely at the feet of Love Island producers, the show’s aftercare has historically left much to be desired.
But to its credit, Love Island is heeding such criticism.
This year’s contestants are the most diverse and relatable yet, and "pre-loved" fashion site eBay is the main sponsor.
Alcohol consumption is strictly controlled on set, and contestant wellbeing has become a priority for the producers, with the introduction of a robust mental health assessment prior to the show, ongoing psychological support, counselling sessions after the finale and training on how to handle social media abuse.
I am tentatively hopeful that Love Island will continue to improve.
This sun-drenched microcosm with all its romantic intrigues, petty squabbles, silly challenges and outright clashes forces the audience to confront certain behaviours displayed by contestants which are present in the real world.
It’s entertaining, relatable and educational, and I simply do not care if my viewing habits give you "the ick". We are all voyeurs; we are all fascinated by other people’s lives and dramas. Love Island is simply a well-lit, delightfully framed, expertly costumed version of candid life.
Now you must excuse me — tonight’s episode is about to start and I simply must find out if my favourite couple (Ekin-Su and Davide) make it through the hour without squabbling or throwing food at each other.
- Jean Balchin, a former English student at the University of Otago, is studying at Oxford University after being awarded a Rhodes Scholarship.
