After losing some regulars last season—Abby Elliott, Kristen Wiig, Andy Samberg, and Jason Sudeikis (maybe)—Saturday Night Liveannounced the three new cast members who'll be joining the show's 38th season. One of the three is Aidy Bryant, a Second City alum who just happens to be fat. Though SNL has long showcased the work of funny fat men like Chris Farley, Horatio Sanz, and Kenan Thompson, Bryant is the show's first-ever fat female hire. Hooray!
As a 30-year-old, pop culture-loving, unmarried, short, dark-haired, bookish woman who loves to drink champagne and wear sequins, I'd have to change my name to Mindy if I wanted to fit any more squarely into The Mindy Project's target demographic. The show, which premieres September 25th but whose pilot is currently streaming on Hulu, stars creator Mindy Kaling as Mindy Lahiri, an OB/GYN who loves rom coms and fancies herself in the self-improvement montage part of life. Like its charming-yet-flawed protagonist, there are many things to love about this show (and a few things to just tolerate because, hey, it's generally likable and it's trying hard and everyone deserves a little slack now and then, right?).
I know I wasn't the only one who cheered when Sigourney Weaver's Elaine Barrish told a handsy Russian diplomat that she'd "fuck his shit up" on last night's premiere of Political Animals on USA. A star-studded "limited series" event (I think that is TVspeak for miniseries), the show is based not-so-loosely on the Clinton marriage if Hillary had told Bill to get lost after her failed presidential bid. So far, it's being hailed by some as a step forward for strong women on television and derided by others for being sucky. Both sides have a point.
Sure, it's summer and that means you're more likely to find me streaming old episodes of Pretty Little Liars on my laptop than watching a season premiere (no, YOU stayed up until 2:00 last night to find out what happened at the dance-a-thon!), but the fall shows are only two short months away, with them comes the Mindy Project.
Check out this new promo for the show, where Mindy talks work/life balance while walking through the hospital where she is a doctor:
I love illustrator Kyle Hilton. Based on the paper dolls he makes, the two of us should be best friends who watch every television show and movie together always. Case in point: His new set, a collaboration with Vulture, is of the cast of GIRLS!
Hannah Horvath, complete with union suit, laptop, and tub cupcake.
There are plenty of shows on television right whose characters sport highly realistic wardrobes, and there are just as many that definitely don't. I crowdsourced (read: asked people on Facebook and Twitter) some examples of both recently and have ranked 10 shows based on a completely unscientific wardrobe believability index. My only criteria were that the show in question: A. is currently on the air, and B. takes place in 2012 (sorry Mad Men and Game of Thrones, I love your clothes but I don't know how believable it is for Jon Snow to be wearing a yak fur). Check out the rankings after the jump, and be sure to add your own in the comments!
It has been a privilege and pleasure to write for Bitch for the last eight weeks. Thanks to Kelsey and Kjerstin for all of their support, and thank you to everyone who read, commented on, and shared my posts. As a long-time Bitch fan, I've felt honored to share this space with you and participate in much-needed conversations about the state of bisexual visibility in the media.
In the comments of Wednesday's post, Anita pointed out that Queer As Folk is not the only Showtime program that struggles in its depiction of bisexuality. When discussing depictions of biphobia in the gay community, one can't avoid The L Word. The difference between the shows as I see it, however, is that if Queer As Folk suffers from bi invisibility, The L Word suffers from straight-up bi loathing. Rather than giving you a play-by-play of every epic bi fail (if you're interested in that, After Ellen has a comprehensive list), I want to focus on one particular episode—one that deals with bisexuality and straight privilege.