lisa levy discovers what not to wear

one of the most brilliant moments in amy heckerling's genius jane austen­meets­john hughes romantic comedy clueless (1995) comes when cher (alicia silverstone, who desperately needs a better agent), our intrepid fashion-forward heroine, looks at her new friend tai (brittany murphy, who desperately needs a better stylist, unless the whole skanky ho thing was her idea, in which case she needs a self-esteem workshop) and says, "project!" cher's friend dionne editorializes, "cher loves a makeover. it gives her a feeling of control in a world gone mad."

I'm with cher: I love a makeover too. e!'s fashion emergency, tlc's a makeover story, hell, I've even gotten sucked into the adrien arpel segment on home shopping, I think it's something about her long island accent and the no-nonsense way she uses her hands to apply the makeup even though they have sponges right there. makeover shows are like dating shows without the possible trauma of the date--all anticipation, preparation, strategy--the female equivalent of war readiness. they encourage us to dream of better skin, hair, clothes, and how our lives could dramatically improve given these accessible achievements. or a more apt analogy might be to another new addiction of mine, home improvement shows, which are full of vicarious shopping, unsparing attention to detail, and professional, if impractical, advice. and home makeovers à la bbc america's changing rooms don't ever require a session in front of a mirror in cruel fluorescent lighting. but that's another column.

the genius makeover show of the moment is bbc america's what not to wear, where two "cruel-to-be-kind fashion journalists give hard advice to unsuspecting fashion victims." I'm not sure the website writers know what "fashion victim" means in america, because the women who are made over on wntw are anything but: they are wholly inattentive to what is touted as fashionable. they wear "ribbed bloody jumpers" and "mismatched, ill-fitting casualwear." they dress "too downmarket" and use the gap as a "fashion haven." in short, they walk around blissfully ignorant of trends and woefully ignorant of the mandates of style, until they meet their makeover-ers.

so who are these cruel-to-be-kind women, and why are they my new tv best friends even though, as they note, part of their charm is that they can say things your best friends can't? trinny woodall, the skinny one, wails against the "pleated taper trouser." she hates her thick ankles and laments her lack of a bosom. susannah constantine says, "I've got a flaccid stomach, massive breasts and chins that are breeding. my god, the pitted cottage cheese around my legs is truly disgusting." there's a way suz pinches her flabby arms that is achingly familiar, and the face trinny makes when she talks about her "tits" (there is much talk of tits and other euphemisms on the show, which features our two fearless fashionistas coyly covering their breasts on the still card between commercials) is heartbreaking. so we love them for their brutal honesty, their advice that takes into account each woman's strengths and personality, and their willingness to use themselves as instructive examples.

this is how an episode goes. the wntw crew secretly videotapes someone who has been nominated for the program by her family, friends, and/or coworkers‹in other words, the people who see her most and can assess her lack of fashion acuity. suz and trinny watch the footage, have a preliminary discussion, then go surprise the lucky woman. she's always shocked, and often a bit upset‹who wants to hear that her friends and loved ones think she looks like shit, even if she secretly knows it's the truth? "we are here to salvage your style!" they say, and the object of their lavish attention inevitably comes to believe it.

the subject then watches herself in the secret films, inevitably a moment of painful self-consciousness that translates into, "do I really look like that?" she then brings her wardrobe to the wntw office, outfitted with a truly terrifying and ingenious device: a fully mirrored room. repeat previous question even louder. trinny and suz give her specific instructions on color ("mix colors, stop wearing black with everything. it's so '80s."), fabrics ("leather on the bottom is a disaster"), fit (including a primal scene of one woman finding out she is not a 38b but a 40c, leading her to proclaim after the right bra is procured, "I've got boobs!") and what not to wear. when she takes her check for 2000 pounds and goes shopping, trinny and suz watch from cameras nearby, and intervene early and often. she gets her hair and makeup done offstage, then my favorite part: a little music video style wardrobe parade with the end credits over it, with the subject of the show as poised as any fashion model. "sagging boobs and drooping bum" be damned: with a little color and self-confidence infusion, everyone looks great.

what not to wear may sound like a women's magazine article brought to life, full of catty asides and worthless free advice. but it's more than that: because suz and trinny judge without malice, wntw becomes a sensible and vastly entertaining template that every woman can follow. in the eight episodes--more, now, please--everyone can find someone a bit like her: top heavy, pear shaped, short waisted, etc. and the women are not all thin, or young, or conventionally pretty, and their work (a denim-clad cabdriver, a outrageous salon owner who looks a lot like dee snider and loves to flash people, a perky preschool teacher mired in pastels) and social lives come across in interesting ways: often, the more status a woman has at the office the more afraid she is of color and proper fit, as if looking good would, sadly, occlude her from being taken seriously.

an american version, which has only aired once on tlc, has no soul. the style experts feign perfection and refer to her "bust" only once; we see the haircut and the painstaking makeup job; the subject was too pouty and then too grateful. it did not nurture my spirit, to use an oprah word. it made me feel bad for her. wntw gives me the feeling of control in a world gone mad, that thinks self-transformation should be more kind than cruel. what's not to like about that?