Welcome to the Binge-Watch Chronicles, where we dive off the deep end of what’s streaming. Or if it should be on your watch list or not, this week’s pick? Netflix’s Emily in Paris.
Netflix’s new series is taking over social media while simultaneously dividing viewers; after all, there’s something about living vicariously through someone’s fabulous frivolity. Especially now more than ever.
Emily in Paris follows Chicago millennial Emily Cooper (Lily Collins) to a new and exciting career move to Paris, France. It’s a similar stylistic formula that draws viewers into the world of upper east side icons, Blair Waldorf and Serena Van Der Woodsen. Beautiful rich young white women with incredible clothes and men desiring to be with them.
Equal parts camp and inadvertent satire, making for an intoxicating combination that’s cheesier than a Croque monsieur. That’s exactly what makes Emily in Paris so enchantingly ludicrous.
Emily’s world changes after her marketing supervisor’s unexpected pregnancy strand her in Chicago. Thus Emily is now the social media marketing conduit to the new Parisian marketing agency (Savoir) that her job recently purchased. Leaving behind her uncaring boyfriend, Doug, for the city of lights.
Insufferable people with a penchant for the dramatics and intrigue surrounded by expensive designer clothes. What’s not to love?
Additionally, the show’s absurd premise of a supposed American expatriate and savvy social media marketeer arriving in Paris with a mere 48 followers, how is that even possible? Emily then becomes an accidental influencer, navigating her life while raising her follower count to an astounding 20k+.
Considering Emily’s customer service job, it’s wild to think she’s so optimistic. In reality, working such a job is gruesome and soul-crushing (perhaps that was just my experience). Emily’s a quintessential American, loud and overly friendly, while the French are viewed as snobby or mean and viewed as lazy because of the capitalized American rise and grind mentality.
Emily learns the hard way, American culture mistakes abundance for affluence; thus, American culture is based on material possessions instead of living life to enjoy it. Emily’s ensembles perfectly encapsulate American exceptionalism at its finest; her infectious, overly sunny disposition seemingly matches her garish clothing.
No disrespect to the iconic Pat Field, but it seems like there are a deliberate tackiness and uncouthness to Emily’s wardrobe. Despite wearing lush looks from Dior and even Chanel, Emily Cooper looks like she won a shopping spree at some fast-fashion company cosplaying as Carrie Bradshaw during season three of Sex and the City.
It’s no coincidence that Emily in Paris is constantly compared to Sex and the City. Also created by Darren Star, the Netflix series is fanciful and charming. Reminiscent of The Hills’ Lauren Conrad when she finally goes to Paris.
The whimsy continues as Emily lives in a paid-for apartment, complete with a hot downstairs neighbor, which she keeps “mistaking” her for her own.
Her entitled confidence leads Emily into thinking she can save Savoir from their archaic social media (lack of online presence). This obtuse mindset inserts herself into the arrogant know-it-all American stereotype. Yet it’s her blind confidence and cheery optimism of instant gratification that makes her think she’s qualified for a position she isn’t.
Although Emily is eager to soak as much of Paris as she can, her French culture’s ignorance is a constant reminder to viewers. As is her refusal to learn or even say, “I don’t know how to speak French.”
Completely littered with stereotypes of berets, baguettes, buttered croissants, rude and/or lazy French ways of life, and countless flirtation. It’s romanticism at its best despite claiming that there’s more to Paris than meets the eye. We don’t ever see that, only the glossy whitewash ex-pat experience. Which begs the question, why are people of color labeled as immigrants instead of expatriates like Emily?
This idealism extends itself to the leading lady herself. Emily may be the heroine, but her move to Paris also seems like a possible villain origin story.
In Paris, Emily encapsulates the #GirlBoss mentality and the selfish American millennial mindset, as written by baby boomers. Showing no real depth outside of marketing ploys with basic hashtags and aesthetics that pop culture media eats up. Despite Emily’s lack of knowledge of her career or how business acquisitions work, she’s determined to change everyone else’s mindset because she’s a plucky American.
The American dream trope of hard work equals goal insight doesn’t actually work for real people in real life, especially with our current crumbling government. Still, for film/tv purposes, it indulges our wildest fantasy scenario of escapism.
