Does fashion ever work on TV? The first episode of Styled to Rock, which premiered earlier this week on Sky Living, suggests not.
The strangely familiar format saw 12 well-heeled, trainee fashion designers attempting to create a stage outfit for Kanye West (subsequent weeks will see similar tasks for Cheryl Cole, Katy Perry and Rihanna, who also serves as executive producer).
But despite a heavy dose of glamour (Rihanna makes regular appearances, and the judging panel includes Henry Holland and Nicola Roberts), MTV-style jump cuts and some potentially interesting personality "types" in the trainee designers (Madame Jacqueline is "obsessed with murder" – which means she gets to wear a series of funny hats throughout the show), Styled to Rock can't seem to make up its mind what it wants to be. A reality-talent show about fashion with a celebrity element, or a show about celebrities and fashion with a reality-talent show element? It's unclear.
Part of the problem is the lack of dramatic tension. As we count down to the denouement of the showcase, it's hard to get worked up over the designers' indecision over fabrics or their arguments over terminology. It's as if the programme-makers thought that being in the reflected glow of "fashion being created" was enough to hold your attention. But it's not. Ultimately, what should result in an explosive mix of fashion, music and drama ends up being less Devil Wears Prada and more Devil Wears George by Asda.
The show falls foul of the classic mistake programmes about fashion make. Attempt to crowbar the dark eccentricity of the industry into a traditional TV format and you can say goodbye to the multifarious elements that make it exciting in the first place.
Styled to Rock follows in the wake of Channel 4's Frock Me and Sky1's Project Catwalk, fashion programmes that were unable to translate the shine of the industry onto the small screen. Even the hands-down most enjoyable fashion show, America's Next Top Model, feels a bit too much like a standard reality show at times. As another wannabe model gets shouted at by Tyra Banks
after failing to do adequate "pouty face" on a freezing, 16-hour shoot with only a bikini shaped like a hand, some rotting flesh and a mute photographer named Alex (they're always called Alex) for company, you can't help thinking that this hysterical, high drama tone isn't quite an accurate portrait either. ANTM can feel like the fashion equivalent of an extended torture forfeit from I'm a Celebrity ... Get Me Out of Here!.
But why can't these shows get it right? Well, arguably, it's just difficult to translate the vagaries of an industry that can be joyous but also stomach churning (as the controversies of American Apparel and John Galliano illustrate) into a 30-minute show.
So what are we left with? Watching re-runs of the ultra-satire of Absolutely Fabulous? Waiting for HBO's supermodel documentary About Face? For something as involving and multi-layered as its subject matter, I think we deserve better.
