kanoafeature

Pop CultureAugust 12, 2016

Here’s a forecast for you: Kanoa Lloyd can wear whatever she wants

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Kanoa Lloyd’s job is to present the weather for us every night on TV3, so why do people care so much about her clothes? Anny Ma tells armchair fashion critics everywhere to sit down and shut up. 

I can safely say that my life is made more spectacular from seeing Kanoa Lloyd’s face light up the tellybox every night. If you haven’t experienced her radiating sunshine already, Kanoa is the fantastic presenter who delivers the weather on Newshub at 6 with grace and aplomb every evening.

See, I’m a fan of seeing women present current affairs. I’m also a fan of women excelling in their fields. This makes me a huge fan of women who excel at presenting current affairs. However, I’m not a huge fan of people who find themselves more concerned with what the presenter is wearing.

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Land of the Long White Moan, am I right?

A while ago I watched Kanoa speak at a Pantograph Punch story-telling evening, where she was scheduled to deliver an impassioned tale about her integration of Te Reo into her weather reports, and the nation’s consequential reaction.

However, events did not proceed as planned, after an agitated viewer emailed her at the last minute. The email featured a breakdown of exactly what was wrong with how Kanoa dresses to present the weather, and how imperative it is that she dress more to her figure.

Let me reiterate, this email was not from Trinny nor Susannah, but from a viewer. Of the news. Despite having an early career in retail, I don’t think I’ve ever felt it’s my place to go out of my way to tell a stranger that their clothing looks terrible. So why do they do it?

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The reality is that this one example in a constant flood of ‘feedback’ that people think they’re entitled to dump on women, despite us having to deal with other apocalyptic matters like ageing and weight gain. It’s this perception that a woman’s appearance is always up for public debate, that what she is wearing has consequential links to her potential for respectability, success, acceptance, and ‘standing’ in society.

I stopped doing maths in high school when it was no longer compulsory, but I’ve dug out my NCEA Level One Math skills and created a venn diagram to look for the correlative point between Kanoa’s dresses/shoes/hairstyle and her (superb) ability to do her job:

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During her chat, Kanoa reiterated that she is not the only woman in the history of the news to ever receive this thoughtful and well-intentioned viewer feedback. Kanoa offered us heart-warming anecdotes from her fellow women presenters of ridiculous misogyny, such as advice on one woman’s bone structure. Her male colleagues had no such stories.

Let us cast our minds back to when a male Australian TV host sent waves across the world for wearing the same suit for an entire year to see if anybody would notice. Karl was sick of the unsolicited, unwarranted, and unfair feedback co-host Lisa was receiving. His subsequent experiment conclusively found that: [Breaking News Alert] The World is Actually Very Sexist!

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In addition to having to work much harder to prove ourselves as capable and functioning members of society who don’t just laugh at salad all the time, women also have to deal with their appearance being used as a yardstick for success. Maybe sometimes women don’t want to wear heels to work. Maybe we need sturdier shoes to traverse the shards of the broken glass ceiling. 

Perhaps there will come a time when we don’t spark outrage over the amount of skin we have exposed whilst reporting on The Olympics, despite the backdrop being an arena full of men in speedos. Maybe one day, when we attend a red carpet ceremony, we won’t get called ‘fat and ugly’

For now, all we can do is fight back.

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This content, like all television coverage we do at The Spinoff, is brought to you thanks to the excellent folk at Lightbox. Do us and yourself a favour by clicking here to start a FREE 30 day trial of this truly wonderful service.

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theblockfeat

Pop CultureAugust 11, 2016

Jane Yee on The Block: An emotional final farewell to Meadowbank

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With The Block NZ all but wrapped up for another season, Jane Yee discovers that absence does indeed make the heart grow fonder.

I thought this was going to be the best day of my life. I imagined feeling a huge weight lift off my shoulders, a sense of liberation like I’d never known. Eleven weeks I’ve spent riding the Block rollercoaster, desperate to alight. Today, the safety bar lifted. Today, I should be rejoicing.

Yet here I am, cold and alone. Hollow and directionless. The thought of houses 1-4/95 St Johns Rd sitting empty (but still warm thanks to their top notch Homestar rating) pains me in a way I never anticipated. This is the reality of addiction, and as I lie fetal in this pit of despair there can by no denying, I am a Blockaholic.

I can barely believe that in Week One I didn’t think I’d ever know my Dyls from my Dylz. I had no idea who Glyn the Council Inspector was, and I had nay heard the phrase “life’s a garden.” Now I’m clinging desperately to the memories. Niki’s dancing, Big Bad Bobby, the chux cloth, the solar shower, the goddamn schist wall. All I have left to hold on to is auction night – where my BFFs will rendezvous at the Rendezvous, dressed up in fancy clothes with their hair and makeup done all swish, and I’ll feel like I don’t even know them anymore.

Nobody said it was easy
Nobody said it was easy

It’s a kind of Stockholm Syndrome, really. I was taken captive by this seemingly innocent little franchise, then pummelled night after night with torturous drone shots of cars driving about, absurd challenges, flimsy storylines and far more costumery than is acceptable for a factual show featuring actual adults.

It was all so monotonous, repetitive and other words that mean the same thing, but somewhere in the madness I fell in love with that ragtag bunch of rascals. I didn’t realise it had happened until Wednesday night when they were driving away from site for the final time with tears streaming down their cheeks, and I could feel my own eyes welling up. What the hell was that about? I was supposed to be happy to be rid of this giant townhouse in my side! Why did I have feelings about it all?

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No one ever said it would be this hard

I guess over the last eleven weeks there’s been a certain comfort in flopping on the sofa four nights a week to watch Big Dyls lose his shit at The Wolf. I loved witnessing Tiff robotically fulfilling her duty to the sponsors by mentioning Freedom when she actually did all her shopping at Indie Home Collective. I lol’d at Sam and Emmett’s casual approach and witty repartee. I’m sure Emma and Courtney did stuff that I enjoyed too.

But now, like ceiling gib installed without insulation, it’s all been ripped away from me. The Block NZ 2016 chewed me up and spat me out without me even realising it and if I didn’t have The Real Housewives of Auckland to look forward to, I doubt I’d be getting out of bed tomorrow.

It’s safe to say a piece of my heart will forever reside in Meadowbank. The rest will be on the road doing moisture tests with Glyn.


This content, like all television coverage we do at The Spinoff, is brought to you thanks to the excellent folk at Lightbox. Do us and yourself a favour by clicking here to start a FREE 30 day trial of this truly wonderful service.