Dubai Bling. Let’s just say it. There is something irresistibly indulgent about sinking into reality TV in all its chaos. It’s a guilty pleasure—one that we pretend to critique but secretly revel in. It’s like sneaking in an extra dessert when nobody is watching. I know it’s contrived. It’s overproduced, and dripping with melodrama. But, there I am, wide-eyed and shamelessly invested. Because reality TV taps into something primal. It’s about voyeurism, escapism, and a longing to witness lives so far removed from our own – that they almost border on fiction. We’re all drawn to that well-timed mic drop or a perfectly cut side-eye.
When reality TV found its way into our region, as it did with Dubai Bling (Instagram), it felt like something more than just entertainment. It is an import with real cultural implications. We’re seeing global formulas being played out with local textures. Over the years, I have consumed some Western reality TV with mild fascination but there’s always that tinge of incredulity. But now, I find myself here now, watching an iteration of this genre reimagined for the Middle East—a world of glittering skyscrapers, extravagant lifestyles, and social dynamics that, are familiar, yet come wrapped in a uniquely Gulf sheen.
This concept is not native to us. The Middle East didn’t have Kardashians or housewives to gawk at. The last few decades were filled with dramas far removed from the glossy, high-octane spectacles that define reality TV today. This idea of airing private lives for public consumption is a recent development. It is one we’ve borrowed from cultures that often blur the line between authenticity and performance.
When I first started watching Dubai Bling, it was equal parts curiosity and scepticism. Was this going to be a cringe-fest of superficial excess? Or would it surprise me with something more substantial? It was both. Dubai Bling delivered exactly what it promised us. A front-row seat to opulence, drama, and a set of characters so larger-than-life that they almost feel like caricatures.
But beneath these layers of designer labels and contoured faces, you find an interesting subtext about identity and ambition. Remember that this show is set in the hyper-capitalist hub of a region currently straddling the line between tradition and hyper-modernity, still trying to find its footing in a globalized world.
Dubai. It is a city that’s become shorthand for luxury and ambition. A character in its own right – gleaming and ostentatious. Dubai Bling not only showcases the wealth. It amplifies it to absurd proportions. It is hard not to notice how the show, in its portrayal of success—flaunting it, accessorizing it, Instagramming it—mirrors our universal obsession with validation in the age of social media.
The cast itself is a motley crew of influencers, entrepreneurs, and socialites whose lives oscillate between the aspirational and the absurd. Their conflicts, while entertaining, often speak to real struggles we all experience like the pressure to fit in, the chase for status, the sacrifices made in the name of ambition. As I watched them make their way through their gilded worlds, I found myself moving between feelings of bemusement and empathy. Because I knew that beneath the bling, there are moments— brief, but real—that feel genuine.
It’s still a show built on spectacle, and that’s precisely why we’re drawn to it. It offers a brief escape, a glimpse into a world that most of us will probably never inhabit. But it holds up a mirror for us that, given our indulgence and investment, reflects back our own preoccupations with image, success, and the stories we tell about ourselves.
As much as I rolled my eyes at the over-the-top antics, I couldn’t stop watching. Because, you know deep down, we all love a good story—even if it’s wrapped in bling and served with a side of drama. So, let’s take it for what it is. Rather than overanalyse and dissect, let’s view it as a snapshot of a broader cultural movement. The show is an embodiment of the influence of the West and the impact of globalization on our region. It urges us to engage critically with these forces. While fusions and global influences are inevitable, it’s up to us to decide how to weave them into our identity. By holding fast to our roots and traditions, we can navigate these shifts with awareness and intention—ensuring we evolve without losing what makes us us.
Read more takes on contemporary culture, and a little art, here.
