How I applied for The Bachelor Canada and lived to tell about it
By Brianne Hogan
This is what it looks like when roses cry (Image: brilliant_onion)
When it was announced that The Bachelor’s train wreck of final roses and hot tub dates was rolling into Canada this year, I was asked to write a story about the reality TV show’s arrival. It wasn’t until after I perused its ridiculously chipper application form and its sign-your-life-away fine print that I realized there was more than just a story here, there was a journey. My journey of attempting to
marry meet Canada’s most eligible bachelor.
If the thought of being single for another Valentine’s Day/birthday/Saturday night hasn’t gotten the best of you yet, let me walk you through what it’s like to tell a group of strangers (a.k.a. picky casting directors, big wig producers, and bratty interns) “why you deserve true love.”
First thing’s first: you’re going to have to put up with stigma. Despite the thousands of women who’ve auditioned for this show over the last 16 seasons, it’s still somehow embarrassing to disclose to people that you’re auditioning for The Bachelor. Even with my urgent disclaimer of “I’m only doing this for work, guys!” I’m met with a variety of impassioned reactions. My family is excited for me to “finally meet a nice guy” (even though this “nice guy” has yet to be cast). My friends just want me to be on the show so they can tell people they know that really wasted dorky chick on The Bachelor Canada. Then there are those high horse-riders who are convinced I’m doing this because it’s my last shot at love before my inevitable demise into spinsterhood.
But, I press on, because I’m only doing this for work, guys! Next up is reading the dense eligibility requirements. Apparently, as long as you’re not planning to run for political office any time soon, only engage in “friends with benefits” relations with people who aren’t your roommate for less than two months at a time and don’t mind the odd skydiving date (at your own risk, of course), then you may proceed. Fortunately, not only am I not politically motivated whatsoever, but I also swear to a two-month-relationship policy when I’m not contemplating how to fulfill my death wish. I can now move on to the online application form.
Initially, it looks just like any other form one fills out in the hopes of landing a man: name, phone number, email, citizenship. But it’s at the height and weight requirements when I begin to get a little testy.
Apparently, BMI is pretty important to those Bachelor folks. Of course, this makes sense when you consider all those wine-induced hot tub scenes of seasons past and present — those women all had bangin’ bodies — but it’s sad to think that The Bachelor’s producers don’t believe fat people deserve their shot at a bikini-clad catfight, too. And let’s not forget the super tall women, either. When was the last time you saw a statuesque, Geena Davis-type woman go for a helicopter ride with a Bachelor? Just as many times as you’ve seen a Melissa McCarthy-shaped woman have a fancy dinner in the middle of Vegas casino fountain with our man of the hour. Is it really too much to ask for a little equal heartbreak opportunity? Looks like we’ve got to face reality, people:
the show the network men everyone true love only likes skinny shorties.
Despite the thousands of women who’ve auditioned for this show over the last 16 seasons, it’s still somehow embarrassing to disclose to people that you’re auditioning for The Bachelor.
Apparently, I’m at the lower end of a normal BMI weight, so I’ll make sure to get it down to ribs-poking-out-of-my-body-skinny by the first day of shooting. I promise!
Then there’s the “how many times have you been married” question. It’s a fair inquiry, but I still get the sneaking suspicion that those with a marital track record like Elizabeth Taylor’s need not apply. My answer is a big fat zero, which, in my real life, at my age, makes me a pariah of society. But in this case, it bodes well for me. Score! (I also think this same number works well in my favour when it comes to the “do you have children” question because, as we all know, children = baggage in Bachelorland.)
Now it’s time for the written portion of the test. My friends and coworkers tell me to “just be myself” and “speak from the heart,” but those suggestions are stupid for two reasons. One, I’m applying to the show in order to write a story about it, so I’m pretty sure the producers won’t be too keen about that. And two, “just being myself” obviously hasn’t worked for my marital status thus far, so why beat a dead horse?
So, instead, my answers are perky and to the point.
Why would you want to be on the show? I live with my parents.
What are your guilty pleasures? Photobombing and Michael McDonald.
How would your friends describe you? “She’s great. Too bad she’s naked all the time.”
What is your most important possession and why? My rocket-firing Boba Fett figurine from 1980. What, you don’t have one?
Next comes the pièce de résistance: the all-important video segment. This section is so vital to your romantic future that the application basically tells you to go steal a video camera, if need be, because if you don’t have video submission, YOU WON’T BE SEEN BY THE CASTING TEAM and then you’ll be GIVING UP YOUR CHANCE for TRUE LOVE! If you found my usage of cap letters irritating, then please don’t check out the application form. There, you’ll find an emphasis on BIG SMILES! High energy! And, of course, lookin’ gooood! So, in addition to overweight and exceptionally tall women, wallflowers need not apply, either. The Bachelor Canada just doesn’t have the time to scratch your self-protective surface to get to know the real you, Debbie Downer, so do us all a favour and take your observant and rational mind elsewhere.
For the video, the producers want to know everything about you. What you do in your daily life (take improv class? Show them!), your dating history (did an ex-boyfriend get his finger tip chopped off during a date? Tell them!), what you eat for breakfast (enjoy bananas? Eat one!), your ovulation cycle (I’m kidding about this last one, but I’m sure it could be helpful). Just pretend the camera is a good friend and spill your guts, sister. We’re all good friends here.
Oh, and stand in the light, for goodness sakes! They want to make sure you’re not ugly! Lastly, according to the guidelines, the parting shot should be a full-length one. Apparently “this is very important!” (Remember, they want to make sure you’re not fat!)
If this application process seems daunting to you, don’t worry. The Bachelor Canada casting tour arrives here February 25 and 26 at the Intercontinental Hotel. Just remember to bring your passport and big smile and you’ll be on your way to
finding your fifteen minutes of fame true love.
Disclaimer: due to a confidentiality agreement, the answers and video provided above are similar to but not actually a part of my application to The Bachelor Canada. I'm still waiting for my call back.