Footballers Wives is the New Melrose Place

I confess. I am a Trash TV Hoor. The trashier the better.

I think it started maybe with Gilligan's Island (who can resist sweet, innocent Gilligan's futile "You can't make me dress like a girl! You can't make me! You can't make me!") or The Brady Bunch ("Oh! My nose!".) Or maybe it was Saturday nights home with the Love Boat? (I've always described my career as the perfect mix of book publishing and "Julie McCoy, your cruise director")

Regardless of where and how it started, I have a problem. I love bad TV. Curiously enough, I don't like vapid books or boring music. Go figure. My tastes range from bad to worse. This was a little-known secret of mine until now.

Dynasty was a guilty college pleasure. I figured I'd outgrow it; it was part of the social fabric of living in a college dorm. Then there was Beverly Hills 90210. I think this was when I first realized I had a problem. I watched it in secret and then found out that my brother watched it. And then I found out my best friend watched it. And then, one of my artist friends who rode a Harley and didn't shower often sheepishly asked one Wednesday night if he could come over and watch 90210 since his TV was broken....

Then there was Melrose Place--one of Nigel's (that's my husband) first introductions to the pleasures of bad American TV. Monday nights were big TV nights in our house. Would someone end up in the swimming pool this week? Can you believe Amanda said THAT? And look at that skirt! And don't even get us started about Sidney and Kimberly.... We still mourn that loss.

Melrose Place ended and there was a void on Monday nights. Thankfully, that was about the time reality TV started. My brother and I greet each other in our Thursday morning emails with "Happy Survivor Thursday!" as though it were a holiday and we'd be meeting for a family dinner later. The best ones were "Supprentice Thursdays" when we'd get both Survivor and the Apprentice. Um, maybe I'm saying too much?

The latest guilty pleasure is Footballers Wives. Oh wait, that's Footballers Wive$. And no punctuation in "Footballers" which drives me mad though it is further testament to the trashiness of this program. This is a British import and it's the first such program that we're aware of from England. The Brits are great at soaps, from EastEnders to Coronation Street and Brookside but this show takes it to a whole new level. This makes Melrose look like high art.

The premise is this: it is the story of several of the key players from the Earls Park football club (that's soccer to you and me). Oh, fear not. There isn't actually any football being played, just lots of talk of how poorly the Sparks are doing. Usually this is happening inside the locker room with all the team wrapped in towels. Curiously enough, all of the production/writing/directing credits are women. Go figure. The other major plot points involve everyone sleeping with everyone else and Hazel, the owner of the Sparks, trying to get money out of everyone else. It's beautiful.

Anyway. Check it out if you have a secret or not-so-secret attraction to Trash TV. Gotta jet... need to watch my Flavor of Love tape before I leave for work.