If you happened to be watching Seven late-ish on Tuesday night this week then you will have been privileged to view one of the best pieces of televisual magic I have seen in recent memory. It was an episode of
10 Years Younger In 10 Days and it featured motorcycle-riding cabinetmakers and sweethearts Wayne and Andrea, who've been together 17 years and are looking weathered for it.
For those unaware of the show or format, 10 Years Younger's point of difference is getting the public to estimate a couple's age by looking at them, then repeating the process at the end - by which point the style teams will hopefully have made them look, you guessed it, 10 years younger - to snare OMG-style results.
The early conceit of the show - placing the makeoverees into perspex boxes and getting the public to guess their ages - is quite shocking. But there's a part of me that thinks we're shocked because, in its own clumsy way, it's an extreme demonstration of what we do every day. We look at that "ugly bogan" or "derro" or "prawn" and let first impressions push aside the fine attributes a person might be hiding (or, in the case of Wayne and Andrea, simply presenting in a package that doesn't best showcase them).
And this couple are legends. Andrea is like Cate Blanchett peering out from behind a cloak of flannel and black biker t-shirts and Wayne is... well, Wayne is possibly the best thing I've ever seen on television, ever. When being administered IPL treatment for sun damage, Wayne jerks about like Goofy, exclaiming, "Jeez! I dunno about that! Nah, I'm not into that!" and stands in expensive Diesel jeans barechested, thumbs locked into belt loops, looking like a concave fairground mirror with chest hair:
He is basically a genius.
Here's Wayne visiting dentist Dr Fadi Yassmin (incidentally one of reality/infotainment's greatest names of all time):
And here's Andrea at the unnervingly suave Dr David Carr's clinic:
And yes, cosmetic surgery is used, though in a relatively discrete way (some crowns here, some temporary filler injections there, a minor eyelift here, some IPL there - nothing that "normal" people haven't either had themselves or considered, admit it) that makes other makeover shows look like the gaudy freak parades they are. It is okay, remember, that human beings like to look nice, and want to look nice for their partner, too - not every lipstick application is a kowtowing to the patriarchy and not every male facial is a capitulation to emasculation.
But the thing that strikes me as most impressive about
10 Years is the way in which - makeover show advertorial aside - the stylists/teams seem genuinely keen to work with the contestants within their own contexts. Witness grooming expert Will Fennell enthusiastically showing Andrea how to make beauty products from kitchen ingredients (sympathetically smearing wheatgerm and yoghurt on his face, too, a bit like if E.T. was set at Voula's Elegance and Eliott was into exfoliation) because he knows she has neither the time nor inclination to buy speccy cosmetics or go to a salon.
Most makeover shows give no consideration to the contestants' real lives; they think that everyone wants to look like they're off to the Oscars, even though you can't get Creme De La Mer at the Piggly Wiggly in Duluth. The
10 Years team continue to remind us what Wayne and Andrea are like off-duty; hence, Wayne gets jeans and a stylised biker jacket from his fashion dude (the affable Ken Thompson) and Andrea is given a quick workout she can do while the kids are playing. No one is expected to drop their life and hit the yogalates circuit for five hours every day.
It reminds me of the glory days of
Queer Eye For The Straight Guy in which Carson & Co. madeover less for visual effect and more in order to allow the clueless dudes to finally emerge from a shell of their own creation. In particular I remember the visual artist with long hair and longer beard, whose do-over revealed piercing blue eyes and a face his wife had never seen cleanly; I recall everyone in the studio including the gaffer and tea lady were sobbing at its denouement.
And on that topic, LOOK AT WAYNE NOW:
Getcha motor running indeed (see, Sonia? Two can play at that game)!
Ultimately, the desired end result for "big reveal" makeover shows is shock and awe; perhaps you might be moved to finally book that Restylane injection or full-body Dead See mud immersion facial boot camp. But
10 Years Younger In 10 Days just left me moved, full stop.
And if you're still not convinced, pull out the Kleenex and drench yourself in the final reveal and Bonus Super Happy Moment Of Joy:
Look at the way Andrea reaches for Wayne's hand as Sonia is reading out the results! Look at Andrea's face when Sonia announces that Wayne has something he wants to say to her! They are exactly the same, on the inside, and that's what separates 10 Years from its life-coaching peers: they makeover to celebrate the person, not the idea of the person.
And in the end, that makes these the most compelling and convincing makeovers currently on television.
It's enough to make me want to get my teeth done.