Andi Dorfman Passes Bachelorette Torch to Kaitlyn Bristowe and Britt Nilsson …

20 May 2015 | Author: | No comments yet »

Hot tub car, an exotic dancer and Chris Harrison riding a triceratops and, it was only the first episode.

“I love that some people are upset about [there being two Bachelorettes],” declared Chris Harrison on HuffPost Live Monday afternoon.”[If you’re upset], it’s probably an issue you have with yourself or with other women.” As two of the women who’d had a problem with it, we’re not perfect, so we’re always willing to consider that it’s a problem with us. We decided to go into that night’s premiere of “The Bachelorette” with open minds, ready to see the female empowerment Harrison promised. “The Bachelor” and “Bachelorette” franchise isn’t exactly known for its progressive depiction of modern love.

This is a man who has personally invited dozens of men and women into the “Fantasy Suite” (to sleep with each other, sure, but he writes the date cards) so clearly he must have a pretty good idea about what goes on what happens when two people come together to consummate their love in a Balinese villa paid for by ABC producers on their tenth televised date when the time feels right. This season, the producers, in their infinite wisdom, decided to shake things up and have both Britt Nilsson and Kaitlyn Bristowe, who were winnowed from the herd of women looking for love with Chris Soules on the most recent season of The Bachelor, vie for the chance to pre-mate (in a hot tub!) on live television. Well, the dirty workings of Harrison’s mind are finally revealed in his new novel, “The Perfect Letter,” a Nicholas Sparksian romance about a beautiful, Texas-born, NYC-based publisher named Leigh Merrill who is forced to choose between her picture-perfect New York beau Joseph and her tumultuous first love Jake (who also happens to be an ex-con, for convoluted reasons that are explained in the book). If you’ve seen “The Notebook,” you’ll know this isn’t a difficult choice (she obviously picks Jake), but we’re much more concerned with the sex scenes, which fall somewhere between online “Bachelor” fan-fiction, erotica written by aliens pretending not to be horrified by sex, and ”Fifty Shades of Grey” minus the BDSM elements or any genuine erotic momentum. Then, instead of letting Britt and Kaitlyn fight over the men in a Thunderdome of Love, which would be uncivilized and one of them might break a nail or something, the men will choose who they will woo.

Twenty-five lackluster men have to declare their desires for families, marriage and true love, wooing one woman who could at any time send them packing in tears. Chris Harrison’s explanation of getting such a mixed reaction from the guys that the producers decided to let them decide just didn’t sit right with us, mostly because we were still operating under the illusion that the suitors were picked for the star, not the other way around. Leigh reached down and touched him through the fabric of his jeans, and felt him recoil. “Don’t,” he said, his voice low and ragged. “Let me take it slow, or this will be over in under a minute. Last night, though, The Bachelorette went too far, allowing misogynistic comments, threats of rape and wholly inappropriate behavior to slide in the name of a game and supposedly “good” television. Watching the men actually get out of the car and meet the ladies just solidified how uncomfortable we feel about this whole thing, like it was just a way to make Kaitlyn and Britt jealous of each other while the men couldn’t stop drooling.

Britt shocked the girls with her intensity,” explained Chris Harrison, introducing each of them. “One of them shed a lot of tears, the other shed something else…” (Yes, Chris, we know that the “something else” is Kaitlyn’s bathing suit bottom. I’ve waited ten years to touch you again, and I have no intention of rushing things.” “She raised her hips higher to admit him, and grabbed his buttocks and pulled him into her, deep, deeper. The premiere began with a cavalcade of handsome suitors heading into a cocktail party after staking their claim on either Britt or Kaitlyn. (You can read a full recap here.) These parties are usually where contestants tend to overindulge and last night was no exception.

Nothing more scandalous than not-even-fully-nude skinny dipping.) The two women were essentially presented as one-dimensional caricatures of themselves, defined by very specific (and traditionally undesirable) character traits: Kaitlyn by her overtly-sexy humor, and Britt by her overtly-expressed emotion. Chris Harrison may as well have framed the season as a battle to the reality TV exile between the slutty slut and the crying trainwreck — two things that women, especially women who are trying to impress men, are never supposed to be. (And two things that men, no matter how naked or teary they get, never can be.) Defenders of the gambit have pointed to the two-Bachelor season — season 6 — as evidence that the device is neither sexist nor degrading.

At last they both cried out and shattered against each other, first Jake, then Leigh a second later.” It’s vaguely disturbing to think about Harrison writing this scene where a teenage Leigh loses her virginity to Jake in a barn, but hey, whatever serves the narrative: “A quick burst of pain and then it was done, more smoothly than she had imagined. He moved over her, hips pushing into her softness, into the ache, her body so lit with desire she no longer had any sense of where she stopped and he began. Then there’s Josh, a 27-year-old law student who is putting himself through school as an exotic dancer (basically a “real” life version of Danny Castellano from The Mindy Project). He then drunkenly escorted Britt outside for some one-on-one time, proceeding to hug her and touch her face until one of the other suitors distracted him with the promise of another drink. Then Ryan slapped Kaitlyn’s rear as she walked by and she scowled at him, but presumably because of the show’s set-up, she couldn’t just take the power into her own hands and kick him off.

In terms of risky but overall successful moves, JJ stood out with his “I’d like to puck you” joke to Kaitlyn, while plant-kisser Tony made the mistake of saying the exact same BS about his views on love to both women. “I’m sorry for being awesome,” said Ryan the overly drunk a–hole right before Shawn, the amateur sex coach, showed up in his hot tub car and Chris rolled up in a cupcake, and we remembered why we love these shows so dang much: They’re completely insane. There is also a healthy array of blokes with incredibly soporific-sounding jobs, like, investment bankers, former investment bankers, insurance agents, international auto shipperzzzzzz.

Britt notably slumped in the driveway after being sent packing, wracked with sobs; Kaitlyn was totally blindsided after a fantasy-worthy fantasy suite date. How quaint: “Jake turned to kiss her, body slick with water and soap, his hands and mouth gliding over the silkiness of her breasts, between her legs.

Clint drew an incredible, awe-inspiring picture of Chris Harrison holding a rose and riding a Triceratops (see above), while Shawn B./Ryan Gosling x10 (our pick for the winner) brought an adorable picture his nephew had drawn of Kaitlyn and convinced us right then and there to fall in love with him. Leigh closed her legs and felt the water spraying them both, a wetness on top of wetness, Jake’s tongue flicking over the center of desire gently at first, then more and more insistent, until she felt a gentle pop and the world was warm around her.” “With one hand he opened the lid of the ice machine and took a piece of ice. Though one could easily gather that the 25 guys all greeted both women, their approaches were sliced and diced to make each girl, in turn, look like an awkward reject. That’s my whole thing.” The other suitor looked horrified and called him out on it, causing Ryan to simply yell, “You suck!” and stumble onward. The other guys, however, did get to pick boxes for their roses and we felt like we were watching a strange version of Survivor where everyone was well-fed and wearing make-up.

As we watched bro after bro swoon over to Britt, breathing sweet nothings in her ear, and saw Kaitlyn bravely cleaning her teeth with her tongue and grimacing in the background, it was hard not to flash back to the most public romantic rejections of our lives — the boys we flirted with at parties who were just using us to get to our hot friends, or our long-time crush who walked over to us at the homecoming dance to ask the gorgeous cheerleader standing next to us to dance. Before the show begins, Chris Harrison reminds viewers that change isn’t easy and that we will all get through his awkward, painful process together.

It was a shocking moment of literal — not implied — rape culture come to life on the small screen, with one drunken loser spewing horrible things on television. Chris Harrison even pulled a full Jeff Probst when he said, “I’ll go tally the votes!” and we’ve got some new ideas for what the next season of Bachelor in Paradise (our actual new favorite show) should be like.

So pull out your favorite adult beverage, grab your Kleenex, sprinkle your couch with rose petals and get ready to walk hand in hand with either Kaitlyn or Britt on their journey to find love. She was pinned there by his body, his hands, his own pulsing desire.” Harrison seems a bit spent by the time we reach the final scene, but hey, there’s only so many ways you can say orgasm before you start to run out of synonyms: “She felt her own power surge over him, his breath fast and hot on her neck, on her breasts, as he lay helpless beneath her, pressing his hips upward into hers. When producers finally had enough of Ryan’s antics, a giant Bachelorette bouncer sent him to speak to host Chris Harrison outside of the house. “I hate to do this, but you’re clearly not here for either one of these girls or for sincere reasons,” Harrison told the disgraced contestant. “I really think it’s best if you go home. The limos pull up, and as the 25 men spill out, it’s clear that Britt is winning (or those sneaky producers want it to seem like Britt is winning) as all the men flock to her and Kaitlyn stands there like a fourth-grade nothing in gym class. Aside from Britt’s undermining comments about Kaitlyn and Kaitlyn’s overt discomfort with Britt’s presence, the two barely seemed to interact, instead flying around trying desperately to charm as many fratty, underemployed men as possible.

One thing we didn’t, perhaps naively, account for in anticipating a two-Bachelorette season: What would happen when 25 tipsy guys got together in a room to vote over which woman they wanted to go cliff-diving and eat dinner by candlelight with? It’s a gross reality to see men pick women apart like pieces of meat to their peers, debating which one is a trophy wife and implying that two pretty faces are essentially interchangeable. It makes it seem like the producers don’t care about his conduct as long as he was “there for the right reasons.” While The Bachelorette is not the most feminist of franchises — there’s an ongoing discussion about the show’s perceived slut shaming — there was something refreshing about a woman choosing a partner on her own terms (well, terms worked out in advance with the producers). Then they got to kick back and let these two women jockey for their general masculine approval, while they downed Fireball on the rocks and casually weighed the ladies’ respective value.

Ian manages to mention that he is a Princeton grad in his intro video, but balances it out with a tragic backstory about getting hit by a car and left for dead. Ben H., a software salesman from Denver, David, a real estate agent from Orlando, Kupah, an entrepreneur from Boston, and Corey and the Cory, the Bens, Shawns, and Ryans are all blending into a crowd of spray tans, white teeth and implied cologne. Then he stripped down into his skivvies to take a dip in the pool while yelling, “I’m so horned up!” Finally a security guard showed up to taken Ryan to the principal’s office. The Cocktail Party: Kaitlyn kicked things off with a knock-knock joke (“Knock knock!” “Who’s there?” “Two Bachelorettes!” “Two Bachelorettes who?” “Two Bachelorettes, that’s the joke!”) while Britt tried not to cry while telling the room that she’s looking for a best friend.

The women get slightly panicked looks in their eyes, but try to swallow it down to continue their flirting and run their own personal get-out-the-vote drive fueled by eyelash batting, sweet smiles and sultry looks.

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