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HGTV is one of my background noise channels. It blocks out the ambient noise of the neighborhood and building, but doesn't scream at my brain to pay attention to it, like music and movies often do. It also offers an occasional bit of admittedly snarky amusement in seeing people with beer budgets list their champagne demands.
That's the evil of HGTV. Not just the snark--the homogenized expectations of what a home should be, many of which sit at a relatively high price point and are impractical for many families. For instance, granite and butcher block counters have advantages, but they're also expensive and require regular maintenance if they're to be kept good-looking and in decent 'investment towards resale' condition.
Meanwhile, how is a busy working family better served by granite or butcher block than it is by inexpensive, durable, maintenance-free formica? Most aren't in need of a cold slab on which to roll out bread dough. Most aren't going to clear the counters for up to two days each month so they can be re-oiled and re-sealed. Most aren't even going to sand out the nicks and dents and pen marks their kids leave on the butcher block.
And don't forget stainless steel appliances nearly twice the size of the fridge and stove you grew up with, even as studies report that up to 40% of our groceries end up in the garbage. Or the newlyweds who want an old home 'with character' but expect six McMansion-sized bedrooms, each with its own en-suite bathroom, along with an open floorplan and 'room to entertain', and are disappointed to find that old homes have bedrooms big enough only for a bed and dresser--which before HGTV was considered a perfectly fine size for a bedroom.
There's a point to this digression.
HGTV's overambitious expectations always had two competing rationales, one stated and one unstated. Unstated was the promotion to the good life: buying a house was a promotion in the social ladder, finally an adult and no longer just a renter; buying a house with stainless steel appliances and granite counters, on the other hand, was a promotion to the VIP section, to middle class magazine cover life. Stated, however, was the issue of resale value--partially the housing bubble obsession with houses as investments, as profits waiting to happen, and partially (especially after 2008) the back-of-the-head thought, "When we can no longer afford this." And in that sense, stainless steel appliances and granite counters were just big metaphorical beanie babies and baseball cards, hoarded against the future when it would pay off somehow, even as they quickly lose their relevance and value.
At least twice last week, though, I heard participants talk about buying a fancy home that showed 'how hard I've worked' or 'how much I've accomplished'. Both were young schmucks who'd started a business and already owned a home, but were looking to 'upgrade'. They didn't care how well the house met their needs, or about individual high-end markers like fancy appliances, but how expensive the house overall looked, and how well it showed off their newfound affluence.
Part of the amusement in HGTV is also that it's a nice marketing POV of the housing situation. While the network seems to have an uneasy balance between appealing to the DIYers and selling pretty pictures to the Pinterest-types, the type of show offered to each is illuminating. In the early-to-mid '00s, most of its DIY shows focused on flipping houses for a profit, and its pretty picture shows were fancy designers showing viewers how they worked, turning basements into rec rooms and home bars. In the late '00s, the DIY shows told you how to decorate when you were broke and pretty-up a house that wasn't selling, while fancy designers were joined by contractors fixing the errors of flippers and conmen, and turning basements into apartments to be rented out. And popping up occasionally, like a '50s "Kitchen of the future!" daydream, was the occasional "Ogle the 50 swankiest kitchens you'll never be able to afford!" show, "Incredibly fancy home products!" expo tours, and "Fancy house we're obviously building for a specific rich family, but you'll have the chance to win it (and sell it)!" giveaways.
Essentially, while HGTV regularly waffles between its broke hipsters, its working class daydreamers, and its middle class moms, its affluent participants are rarely so unsubtle that they openly say, "I'm rich! Gimme a rich house!"
That's the evil of HGTV. Not just the snark--the homogenized expectations of what a home should be, many of which sit at a relatively high price point and are impractical for many families. For instance, granite and butcher block counters have advantages, but they're also expensive and require regular maintenance if they're to be kept good-looking and in decent 'investment towards resale' condition.
Meanwhile, how is a busy working family better served by granite or butcher block than it is by inexpensive, durable, maintenance-free formica? Most aren't in need of a cold slab on which to roll out bread dough. Most aren't going to clear the counters for up to two days each month so they can be re-oiled and re-sealed. Most aren't even going to sand out the nicks and dents and pen marks their kids leave on the butcher block.
And don't forget stainless steel appliances nearly twice the size of the fridge and stove you grew up with, even as studies report that up to 40% of our groceries end up in the garbage. Or the newlyweds who want an old home 'with character' but expect six McMansion-sized bedrooms, each with its own en-suite bathroom, along with an open floorplan and 'room to entertain', and are disappointed to find that old homes have bedrooms big enough only for a bed and dresser--which before HGTV was considered a perfectly fine size for a bedroom.
There's a point to this digression.
HGTV's overambitious expectations always had two competing rationales, one stated and one unstated. Unstated was the promotion to the good life: buying a house was a promotion in the social ladder, finally an adult and no longer just a renter; buying a house with stainless steel appliances and granite counters, on the other hand, was a promotion to the VIP section, to middle class magazine cover life. Stated, however, was the issue of resale value--partially the housing bubble obsession with houses as investments, as profits waiting to happen, and partially (especially after 2008) the back-of-the-head thought, "When we can no longer afford this." And in that sense, stainless steel appliances and granite counters were just big metaphorical beanie babies and baseball cards, hoarded against the future when it would pay off somehow, even as they quickly lose their relevance and value.
At least twice last week, though, I heard participants talk about buying a fancy home that showed 'how hard I've worked' or 'how much I've accomplished'. Both were young schmucks who'd started a business and already owned a home, but were looking to 'upgrade'. They didn't care how well the house met their needs, or about individual high-end markers like fancy appliances, but how expensive the house overall looked, and how well it showed off their newfound affluence.
Part of the amusement in HGTV is also that it's a nice marketing POV of the housing situation. While the network seems to have an uneasy balance between appealing to the DIYers and selling pretty pictures to the Pinterest-types, the type of show offered to each is illuminating. In the early-to-mid '00s, most of its DIY shows focused on flipping houses for a profit, and its pretty picture shows were fancy designers showing viewers how they worked, turning basements into rec rooms and home bars. In the late '00s, the DIY shows told you how to decorate when you were broke and pretty-up a house that wasn't selling, while fancy designers were joined by contractors fixing the errors of flippers and conmen, and turning basements into apartments to be rented out. And popping up occasionally, like a '50s "Kitchen of the future!" daydream, was the occasional "Ogle the 50 swankiest kitchens you'll never be able to afford!" show, "Incredibly fancy home products!" expo tours, and "Fancy house we're obviously building for a specific rich family, but you'll have the chance to win it (and sell it)!" giveaways.
Essentially, while HGTV regularly waffles between its broke hipsters, its working class daydreamers, and its middle class moms, its affluent participants are rarely so unsubtle that they openly say, "I'm rich! Gimme a rich house!"
