New Jersey gets real as darling of reality TV

"You are as fake as the hair on your head!"

"My hair is real!"

New Jersey is a ready-made reality show character all by itself.

Suddenly, the Garden State is big time on TV, if a little prone to spending too much time on hair and makeup, from the über Jersey Shore of MTV to the fondant artistry of Carlo's Bake Shop in Cake Boss, to the wannabe Jerseylicious-ness of Gatsby Salon in Green Brook, where, the tagline goes, big hair meets even bigger personalities.

Everybody in Jersey - and beyond - seems to have an opinion as to why the state (or at least its northern, Italian side) has become the darling of reality television. And about how many minutes longer Jersey's moment will last.

"I can't think of any time in television's history that there's been a run on a state like this," said Tim Brooks, coauthor of The Complete Directory to Prime Time Network and Cable TV Shows.

Is it the state's history as a stepchild to its big brother, New York City - all that pent-up need for attention finally finding the perfect outlet?

Is it the paradoxical authenticity of the fake-nail-hair-tan-loving denizens of the Turnpike State? Their keeping-it-real, don't-care-what-people-think dedication to preening and, redemptively, family?

Or it is something more basic? Is it because everyone in this state has an opinion?

" 'Cause we're awesome," responded one 13-year-old in a group of real-life Jersey Shore girls on their way to the beach for a little tanning last week in Ventnor.

" 'Cause we're hot," agreed a friend.

" 'Cause," summed up the first, "we're bitches."

No argument there.

If nothing else, Jersey on television has given a possibly dubious boost to the self-esteem of these post-Springsteen, pro-Snooki Jersey girls who previously thought their state - their Situation, if you will - to be somewhat obscure.

Did we mention the hardworking and funny Scali sisters and mom of Jersey Couture, an Oxygen show set in a family dress shop in Freehold ("We're looking for classy Vegas, not hooker Vegas") and the catty-beyond-belief (unless you've been to Margate recently) Real Housewives of New Jersey of Bravo?

"Jersey already has a well-established, ready-made cartoonish identity in popular culture," said Mark Andrejevic, an associate professor at the University of Iowa and author of Reality TV: The Work of Being Watched.

"We get a flash of recognition right away when these shows come on. We recognize the type," he said. "It is a character type well-suited for the needs of reality TV - outspoken, brash, and somewhat cartoonish in its self-conscious performance of itself."

Jersey fascination has spread all the way to a prison cell in Iran. Newsweek journalist Maziar Bahari told NPR's Terry Gross on Fresh Air this month that his captor "had this fascination with the state of New Jersey."

"So, to him, New Jersey was that paradise. I'm not sure why he had that fascination with New Jersey. Maybe he was a big fan of Jersey Shore or something. I never found out, really."

Bahari said his captor had accused him of wanting to create "a New Jersey Islam in Iran, an Islam with Michael Jackson music and people having sex with each other."

So, globally and locally, for better or for worse, the Jersey moment has arrived.

And naturally, with Jersey shows spinning off like some kind of wacky CSI franchise, people are ready to show Jersey our exit.

"I'm over it already," said Alycia Kaback, chief executive officer of VIP Talent Connect, a talent representative on South Street. "It was a shock factor, after the blond-hair, blue-eyes Hills kind of a show. With the recession, not everybody wants to buy Prada and Dior. It's a phase."

Of course, Jersey has spent plenty of time on the pop-culture stage before. Certainly, nothing going on in Snooki's hot tub would make Philip Roth blush. And Bruce made the Jersey Shore an iconic, angsty, and aspirational landscape of blue-collar heartbreak long before the Situation pumped his fists and Snooki got punched in the face and walked alone on the promenade.

Robert Galinsky, who runs the New York Reality TV School, may be getting only a little carried away when he says that in terms of boosting Jersey pride among its masses, first there was Springsteen, then The Sopranos, and, finally, Buddy Valastro from Cake Boss, the TLC show set in Hoboken. (The Boss, the boss, and the Cake Boss.)

"You can't deny his artistry," Galinsky said of Valastro.

Brooks, coauthor of the TV directory, said people on reality shows were often from blue-collar backgrounds, from the proverbial Jersey, but usually left that behind as they sought to become, say, Paris Hilton's bff.

"Stocking an entire show full of these characters is surprising," he said. "You didn't expect to go back to their backyard."

Although the women on Real Housewives of New Jersey seem a real-life parody of Carmela Soprano, Brooks said their wealth and fast life (though not their vague ties to the family) defied middle America's view of Jersey as a wasteland of parkways, buried bodies, and chemical plants.

"This is a part of America that the rest of America hasn't seen this way on television," he said.

Galinsky said about 40 percent of the clients at his reality-TV school are now wannabes from New Jersey. (While they tease out their hair, he tries to tease out a credible underlying narrative, he said, the key to getting cast.)

"When the stepsister is trying to step out of pretty girl's shadow, she does things that are so much more ostentatious or noticeable," Galinsky said. "That's the key thing with Jersey: It's always got a little chip on the shoulder to compete with New York. There's a lot of demonstrative people willing to show that with anyone. Reality TV has allowed anybody to become a pop-culture figure. This is a great podium for the people of Jersey to finally step up and be heard."

At least, the people of North Jersey (eastern North Jersey to be precise, and predominantly Italian). Or, in the case of the Jersey Shore bunch, out-of-staters who fit the "Guido" bill. (Sammi "Sweetheart" Giancola, from Hazlet, is the only true New Jerseyan on the show.)

Nobody interviewed seemed to think South Jersey was headed for its 15 minutes any time soon. "South Jersey and Philly, they have to see if they can dig Rocky back up," Galinsky said.

Michael Rockland, who teaches a class in Jersey culture at Rutgers University that he said had never been more popular, also sees these Jersey shows as part of a chain linking Springsteen to Soprano to Snooki.

Rockland said the days of the "Jersey joke" as a comedy staple - the proverbial armpit of New York on Saturday Night Live - had faded (even though, for many, Snooki is a walking Jersey joke).

"Jersey has gotten so incredibly fashionable, for better or worse," he said. "There's a sense that there is a vital culture here that we should no longer apologize for."

Still, Rockland worries. "I think it can backfire," he said. "Eventually people will get sick of it. If they're not getting sick of it already."

Until then, our authentically, unapologetically fake heroes with their loud mouths and devotion to craft and family will continue to dominate reality TV.

"They stand by the fake tan," noted Galinsky. "They stand by their frosted hair and fake fingernails, the buffed-up workout. They're true to that."

"Jersey Shore" (MTV), set in Seaside Heights. Too-tan "Guidos" and "Guidettes" engage in dubious drunken antics. Season Two will start July 29.

"Jerseylicious" (Style Network), set in Green Brook. Bodacious beauticians vie to tease hair to sky with one hand, while grabbing for men with the other. Season Two will start Sept. 5.

"Cake Boss" (TLC), set in Hoboken. Buddy Valastro, the da Vinci, Michelangelo, and Giacometti of baked goods rolled into one, seeks fame, dough, and a semblance of order among the layers of relatives who work in his shop. Season Three is running now.

"Jersey Couture" (Oxygen), set in Freehold. The inner workings of Diane & Co., a dress shop, and a semi- functional family named Scali. The premiere was June 1.

"Real Housewives of New Jersey" (Bravo), set in Franklin Lakes. Which stupefying spouse can spend the most money and effort staving off Father Time? Season Two is running now. - Jonathan Storm

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