The cult of 'The Summer I Turned Pretty', explained
Breanna Quigley thought of everything.
For her watch party last week for the debut of "The Summer I Turned Pretty" Season 3, the 24-year-old in Charlotte, North Carolina, had custom cookies, matching pool floats, a popcorn machine, a custom painted banner, a big speaker, seashell place mats, a fish net table runner, blue hydrangeas ... the list goes on.
Each item was a reference to the show about a love triangle between Belly Conklin (Lola Tung) and brothers Conrad Fisher (Christopher Briney) and Jeremiah Fisher (Gavin Casalegno) as they navigate life, growing pains and one immeasurable loss.
Blue water appeared on Quigley's blow-up TV screen as she and her friends watched from her pool, chimes sounding as the opening credits played like a call to worship for the devout fans of Jenny Han's fan-favorite novels-turned-Amazon Prime Video series.
Quigley, who dropped $350 on her event, is among many fans gathering at one another's homes and public venues weekly to enjoy the guilty pleasure of watching Belly navigate her love for two boys she's known her whole life – and that each present a different future for her.
The watch parties are pure sun-soaked indulgence for viewers who know deep in their souls whether they're Team Jeremiah or Team Conrad – and are ready to present a thesis as to why. Series creators even issued a foreboding warning imploring fans to refrain from online harassment as the angst of the season plays out.
"I think the show has such a following because of how it makes you feel," Quigley said. "Everyone loves summer romance and I feel a lot of people can relate and love to see Belly choose between brothers. It’s funny because the show can be pretty cringey but it’s cute."
Emphasis on the cringe. Some viewers are really embarrassed about the degree of investment they have in Season 3, despite watching these young lovers through their fingers.
"I'm one episode in and already cringing and very uncomfy," posted one audience member.
When Belly and Jeremiah middle-school-style slow dance to "Dilemma" by Kelly Rowland and Nelly at a college frat party, one viewer physically twinged with second-hand shudders. Fans' significant others are watching from the other room, stunned and bewildered by the dynamics of a girl who loves two siblings. Bearing witness to the "icks" on screen are a test of endurance.
But why do we watch anyway, and get so invested? It reminds us so much of our own loves, the ones we lost or never had, according to Alicia M. Walker, professor of sociology at Missouri State University.
"Maybe we're cringing, but we might be a bit jealous, too," Walker said.
Who wouldn't want to experience love for the first time against the lustful backdrop of fictional Cousins Beach, an idyllic East Coast town, Walker said. The raw unabashed relationships on screen, while we recoil, may remind viewers of any age of the significant impact of being chosen for simply being yourself, Walker said.
"The show doesn't just depict first love, it restores its emotional weight," Walker said. "The show almost doesn't feel like fiction, it feels like memory."
The cult of "TSITP" is especially powerful because its ethos juxtaposes our cultural zeitgeist, one deprived of connection and defined by division, she said. We want something we can all gather around right now and root for, awkwardness included, she said.
"It ends up being emotional comfort food during this time," Walker said. "The cult following around the show really shows how starved we are for something that we can feel, not just watch. The characters become avatars for our own longing, heartbreak, hopefulness and grief ... Whether you're 17 or 57, that hunger for connection, clarity and care is real and this show feeds that."