I have to say that I’m not a fan of the myriad, silly reality shows that we have been blessed (cursed?) with. I have already had a good gripe about the Italian-produced Il Mammone some weeks ago, but truly that one’s pretty harmless when compared to some of the freakshows that are currently polluting the airwaves.

These people are so unsure of their identity that they want to turn themselves into celebrity clones- Ramona Depares

Plastik (the Italian version currently showing on Italia 1) is one such example. The show follows the formula that was kicked off by The Swan some eight years ago in the US, where the ‘ugliest’ participants were offered a range of cosmetic surgery procedures.

So far, so mundane. It’s not that I’m judging anyone who’d like a straighter nose or smoother skin. We all have our vanity foibles after all, and while I don’t really get the concept of watching these procedures happening live as being ‘entertaining’, good luck to those who do.

Plastik, however, is a different matter entirely. It doesn’t simply go about setting to rights the lives of those who have been burdened by some perceived physical ‘defect’ – although there are those too. The show goes a step further and actually glorifies cosmetic surgery for its own sake.

Take two of last week’s protagonists (ah, the sacrifices I go through for you folks!) – there was the guy who wanted to get rid of his ‘moobs’ (that’s male boobs, if you really want to know) and the 39-year-old who wanted to give her face a good lift. So what’s new, yawn.

What’s new, apparently, is a generation of people who are ‘serial’ cosmetic surgery patients. So much so that the Guinness Book of Records now has a category dedicated to these disturbed individuals.

Am I being too harsh? You tell me. Take Cindy Jackson, who clinched the Guinness title after she underwent dozens of procedures in order to become the split image (well, not quite, but that’s the idea) of actress Brigitte Bardot.

Or the other interviewee (I missed her name, sorry – I wasn’t paying attention that closely), whose life-long dream is to look like Penelope Cruz. Judging by the amount of surgery she’s submitting her body to, her dream might just come true very soon.

If this is what is being considered standard behaviour nowadays, then we’re well and truly up the creek without the proverbial paddle. I’m not usually one for throwing about words like ‘normal’, but seriously, is this the sort of thing we want to see celebrated on telly? That we want to encourage tomorrow’s generation to aspire to?

These people are so unsure of their identity that they want to turn themselves into celebrity clones – in my book, not something to be encouraged and glamourised. What these two women need is some serious therapy.

Instead, they get invited to shows like Plastik to titillate the curiosity of the adoring masses, who happily applaud them for their stolen looks. Because, you know, it’s not disturbing at all that you want to essentially ‘steal’ someone else’s visual identity.

And yet, this is exactly what is happening thanks to shows like Plastik and also thanks to unscrupulous surgeons who offer them these procedures on the house in exchange for the publicity.

Because this is what is most worrying about the whole thing. When one of the surgeons was asked what she thought about the wannabe-Cruz, the only reaction was a mild shrug. Followed by an assertion that, hey, if you live somewhere like Los Angeles you stand a very good chance of “becoming famous for nothing, but being pretty certainly helps”.

That’s it. No cautioning. No explanations about why it might not be such a cool idea to make your body jump through hoops so you can achieve a rather sick fantasy. You want to pretend you’re Penelope Cruz? The medical community sees nothing wrong with that – on the contrary, they’ll happily plonk you on a number of television networks and make you a star.

And if the doctor says it, then it must be right. Like we need more image-obsessed crazies around.

rdepares@timesofmalta.com