Little Mix’s The Search: Did The Girls Practice What They Preach?
I’m sure I speak for many other twenty-somethings when I say that Little Mix are undeniably one of my guilty pleasures. I listen to their music while running, can recite most of words to Black Magic and once drunkenly ordered a dress from their Pretty Little Thing collection (it didn’t fit). So when Perrie, Jade, Leigh Anne and Jesy announced that they would be launching their very own BBC television show, The Search, to find the next big pop group, I eagerly awaited its launch. With their first-hand experience of reality music television and success in the industry, it seemed like a recipe for good TV.
When being interviewed about The Search, the girls emphasised that it would take a kinder approach than “others out there.” Translation: it would be nothing like The X Factor, the show on which they found their own fame. After a public split from Simon Cowell’s record label, where Little Mix had been signed after winning The X Factor back in 2010, the girls have been outspoken about “double standards” in the music business. It seemed that The Search might offer a refreshing new take on the pop industry – one where difference and individuality would be embraced, not ridiculed.
The premise of the show was for Little Mix to put together six bands, with each representing a different “genre”. In theory, this would produce six groups who all brought something unique to the table. In the first episode, Little Mix are looking for members of a boyband and from one glance at the line-up of auditionees, it wasn’t difficult to see who the “obvious” choices would be. Boys who strutted around while performing and didn’t mind engaging in bit of flirty banter became clear favourites for Little Mix, while others, even if vocally able, faded into the background.
One of the boys to make it past the audition stages, called Mitchell, was noticeably less “masc” presenting than his fellow contestants and the Little Mix girls repeatedly cooed over how “cute” he was. But when it came to crunch time and deciding whether he would make it through to the next stage, Jesy dismisses him on the basis that “he doesn’t look right” with the other boys.
Something about this comment just didn’t sit right with me. Based on Jesy’s personal experience of the music business, I had anticipated that she might take a more forgiving approach to those who were “different” and wanting to break into the industry. Last year, Odd One Out was released, a documentary where Jesy speaks candidly about how her horrifying experiences of online bullying led to an attempt to take her own life. The abuse that she received came mostly from trolls who were fixated with how she looked and tried to claim she did not fit in with her bandmates.
While I am in no way suggesting that Jesy isn’t allowed to remain objective on professional matters in spite of her own lived experience, I felt like her assessment of why Mitchell wasn’t right for the group seemed disappointingly shallow. Jesy’s remarks seemed to be code for the fact that Mitchell couldn’t perform masculinity in the same way his fellow hopefuls could. It also made me wonder: how helpful is a “gentler” approach to judging if it just masks the same harmful biases seen elsewhere in the industry?
When it came to the mixed boy and girl group in the next episode, a similar theme emerged.
Again, Little Mix decided to take a risk averse approach to the vision for the group, by putting two young blonde women front and centre. For those who could not comfortably flirt and create “chemistry” with these girls, it seemed to be game over. As soon as the girls were paired with two seemingly heterosexual, self-assured male contestants, the four of them were happily bopping up and down and making suggestive comments about one another, with Little Mix praising one of the boys for his “energy”.
In contrast, Janethan, another of the hopefuls, who was more reserved and softer in his demeanour, was described as having something “missing” despite a strong vocal performance. It is true that his performance was less self-assured than of the other two boys, but was this really any reflection on his abilities as a musical performer? Or was it symptomatic of the way he responded to a performance that was set up to make typically attractive, heterosexual men and women look good?
Similarly, Leigh Anne comments that another contestant, Arun, didn’t ‘gel’ properly in the group, yet another contestant who was more feminine in his gender expression. I found the whole set up awkward because it felt like these men weren’t supposed to be there. They couldn’t make us believe that they felt sexually attracted to the women they were performing with, so they couldn’t be in the band. I can’t help but feel that Arun, Janethan and others like them were set up to fail. This for me was poor form from a band who have been such fierce advocates of those who are LGBTQI+. As a group who have become such firm favourites in the gay community, it raises questions for me around the difference between tokenism and allyship. Little Mix might speak about inclusivity, but do they know how this should look in reality?
Even though The Search did make a nod towards what a more progressive pop industry could look like, on the whole it was indistinguishable from any other talent show. Maybe I expected too much from a show that was designed to entertain viewers instead of challenging them – but I think that Little Mix have poised themselves as a group who want to shatter industry stereotypes, rather than reinforce them. As a girl band who have used their platform to speak out about issues such as fat-shaming and racism in the music business, it doesn’t feel unreasonable to wish they would practice what they preach.
Undoubtedly, Little Mix have internalised the same industry standards they themselves were subject to and sadly this is clear even in a “kinder” approach to judging. I also know, however, that this might be as much as we can hope for from a mainstream pop talent competition. If we want to see pop groups who offer a more realistic representation of 21st century identity, maybe it is time we start creating spaces where these individuals can genuinely succeed.
Written by Vanessa O'Driscoll
Vanessa is a local government worker and activist living in north west London. When she isn't procrastinating, she can be found reading gothic literature, getting involved with local community work and watching old episodes of The Story of Tracy Beaker.