In this week’s (well, practically last week’s at this point but bear with me. It’s been a rough one, kids) issue of The New Yorker, critic Nancy Franklin searches for meaning in The Hills. (Above is the New Yorker-fied LC as depicted by illustrator QuickHoney.) Nancy is clearly a Hills newbie—she’s still incredulous that Lauren didn’t go to Paris two seasons ago! Anyway, she makes a few keen observations (“Lauren looks like Marcia Brady, and the three others have dead eyes, although at least Whitney, alone of the girls, appears to understand what having a career means.”) But the piece mostly reads like a summary of the show from the perspective of an…er... older person who is bored/perplexed by it. “I have yet to hear any character on the show say something interesting or funny,” she writes “or see anything that expands my sense of what it’s like to be a young person in Los Angeles.” (The Hills has definitely given me a sense of what it’s like to be young in LA: You have to drive everywhere.) But Nancy does get off one truly great zinger—describing LC’s clothing line as “sub-Old Navy in design.” That’s harsh. True, yet harsh.
Deconstructing The Hills: New Yorker Edition