The proliferation of mundane retail experiences, symbolized by ubiquitous cafes and discount stores, is now mirrored in the television landscape with the arrival of “Girls of Sthlm,” a reality show patterned after the Norwegian series “Girls of Oslo.” This new iteration, airing on Prime Video, follows the lives of four Swedish influencers, promising a glimpse into their ostensibly glamorous world. However, even before its April premiere, the show has become embroiled in controversy, raising questions about representation, privilege, and the ethical implications of influencer culture. The show, focusing on the lives of Alice Stenlöf, Hanna Friberg, Klara Elvgren, and Lovisa Worge, is immediately drawing comparisons to its Norwegian predecessor, which garnered attention not only for its portrayal of the luxurious lifestyles of its influencer cast, but also for the real-life drama surrounding one participant’s relationship with a member of the Norwegian royal family. This controversy, involving allegations of domestic abuse, momentarily overshadowed the typical reality show fare of lavish dinners, shopping sprees, and manufactured interpersonal conflict.
The Swedish version, however, has ignited a different kind of firestorm. The preemptive criticism centers on the homogeneity of the cast, all four women being white and blonde. This has sparked accusations of exclusion and a failure to accurately represent the diversity of Stockholm. This criticism highlights a broader discussion about representation in media and the potential for such portrayals to reinforce narrow and potentially harmful stereotypes. The debate escalated when journalist Quetzala Blanco, on the podcast ”Sanning & konsekvens,” compared the group to a far-right political party and questioned the casting choices. The criticism spread to other media platforms like the Aftonbladet podcast ”Ett rent nöje,” where the show was labeled a ”caricature of Stockholm.”
The ensuing back-and-forth between the show’s participants and their critics further fueled the controversy. Hanna Friberg, one of the ”Girls of Sthlm,” responded to the criticism, questioning whether casting should be based on race or origin, arguing that they were chosen for their established influence. This defense was met with counterarguments from TV personality Amie Bramme Sey, who suggested the influencers might have benefited from their own racial privilege, highlighting the complexities of the conversation around representation and the potential blindness to one’s own privilege. Beyond the racial homogeneity, the influencers’ origins outside of Stockholm – hailing from cities like Norrköping, Gothenburg, Söderköping, and Motala – also drew criticism, although this point seemed less contentious and perhaps even a mitigating factor in the eyes of some observers.
Adding another layer to the pre-premiere controversy is the influencers’ documented history of promoting potentially harmful beauty standards, particularly concerning body image. While Klara Elvgren appears to be an exception, the other participants have been criticized for promoting thinness and endorsing cosmetic procedures, contributing to a culture of body shaming and unrealistic ideals. Lovisa Worge, for example, previously apologized for pro-anorexia selfies showcasing her ribs and spine, acknowledging the harmful message such images convey. However, this apology seems to have been short-lived, as similar images have resurfaced on her social media, raising concerns about the sincerity of the apology and the pervasiveness of these harmful ideals within influencer culture.
The ”Girls of Sthlm” controversy underscores a broader reckoning with the influencer industry, questioning its ethics, its impact on societal values, and its potential to perpetuate harmful stereotypes and behaviors. The show’s pre-release backlash suggests a growing awareness of the power dynamics at play and a demand for more responsible and representative media portrayals. While the content of the show itself remains to be seen, the pre-show discussions raise important questions about the future of reality television and the influencer industry. Will the show address these criticisms, or will it simply perpetuate the problematic tropes that have sparked such controversy?
Furthermore, the controversy surrounding ”Girls of Sthlm” extends beyond the immediate issues of representation and body image. It touches upon the deeper question of authenticity within influencer culture. The participants’ curated online personas, often heavily reliant on filters and editing, raise questions about the gap between the presented image and reality. The show’s focus on a group of influencers, already accustomed to shaping their narratives online, adds another layer of constructed reality. This raises concerns about the potential for further blurring the lines between genuine self-expression and manufactured drama, contributing to a culture where authenticity is increasingly difficult to discern. The show’s reception and its handling of these complex issues will likely determine its impact and its contribution to the ongoing conversation surrounding the influence and responsibility of online personalities.
