Williamsburg has a new “reality show” called The Bedford Stop, and watching it will literally ruin your life. The “show,” which is really just a 16.5 minute car crash (in which there are no survivors) follows four super basic white girls (obvi) who moved to New York to “pursue their dreams.” Those dreams apparently involve lots of brunching, fake laughing and tinder dating, mostly for the purpose of getting free food and white wine spritzers.
But the worst thing about The Bedford Stop is that people like this actually exist and if you go for an eggs benny and a mimosa at Cafe Colette at 11AM on a Saturday (I can’t remember the last time I was even awake at 11AM on a Saturday) the place will be teeming with them. Then they’ll go back to their overpriced “authentic lofts” that there is no way they can afford with their fashion PR gigs (thanks daddy) and cruise tinder or work out or talk about working out or make references to the fact that they ate too many french fries at brunch to work out.
Who are these Brooklynites with the time, energy and resources to cast themselves in this “reality show” and subsequently shoot, edit and upload said reality show? The brutal backlash must had been anticipated (these truly are the world’s most insufferable humans, and I lived through Laguna Beach, The Hills and The City – the three shows this nightmare clearly draws from), yet here they are, giggling, wearing cardigans, and wondering whether they should ask their old crush to shoot their tinder headshot (do people do that?).
And here I am, unable to look away.