Hulu’s new dating show “Are You My First?” features a cast that the streaming platform bills as “the largest, hottest group of virgins ever assembled.” Set at a sun-kissed resort, the series follows 21 conventionally attractive, self-identified virgins in their 20s and 30s who are looking for an opposite-sex partner to swipe their V-card — the “Love Island USA” of the chaste.
Several “Are You My First?” contestants say their conservative religious beliefs — Christian and Mormon, mostly — are the reason they’ve waited on “that good stuff,” to use one cast member’s memorable phrase. Not that they agree on what that means: One woman had never been on a date, while a male contestant admitted being sexually active — save for a “home run.”
The show doesn’t so much champion or condemn virginity as it does treat it as a reality-TV twist — like, say, a gay “Bachelor.” Colton Underwood, one of the show’s two host-chaperones, with Kaitlyn Bristowe, holds the Bachelor Nation distinction of being the first virgin bachelor and the only male lead to come out as gay, which he did after his season.
Karen Plumb, an executive producer on “Are You My First?,” said the show was a “zeitgeisty” attempt to shine a light on adult virginity without judgment.
“I’m not surprised people are virgins,” she said in a recent interview. “They’re scared of sex, they’re scared of intimacy, and they’re scared of talking to people.”
Many “Are You My First?” contestants talk about how fearful they are to be vulnerable or embarrass themselves with potential partners. Framed differently, this is sex delay as Gen Z stare — that blank look from a cashier, for example, where a “hello” would normally be, rooted in anxiety over human interaction. The big difference here is that a fulfilling sex life, not a latte, is at stake.
Carter Sherman, the author of “The Second Coming: Sex and the Next Generation’s Fight Over Its Future,” said such apprehensions are markers of the so-called sex recession that has “seized the American imagination.” And it’s not because young people aren’t horny.
“They’re just profoundly anxious,” Sherman said. “They put so much weight on sex and laden it with all these meanings that it’s not fun to pursue.”
According to Planned Parenthood, the average age that Americans lose their virginity is 17. And while a first sexual encounter can be intimidating for anyone, those fears hit differently when you’re 30.
Kesia Constantine, a licensed psychologist in New York, said that for adult virgins, sex can “feel very performative, and performance has a way of making people feel anxious.”
A virgin dating show would probably raise the intended eyebrows no matter when it debuted. So why isthis show happening now? One answer is that virginity tracks with America’s current conservative wave, with its Christian influencers and its tradwives and its pro-natalists who see sex foremost as a means to make a family.
Hollis Griffin, a professor at the University of Michigan who studies sexuality and media culture, said that years of growing political and cultural divisions over pronouns and gender identity and sexual variety created a backlash — “and I see this program as part of that.”
“We’re in a moment — and I hope it’s brief — that it’s not cool to be different,” said Griffin, the author of “Feeling Normal: Sexuality and Media Criticism in the Digital Age.” On “Are You My First?” virginity is treated as “something competitive and conniving and transactional, and that’s opposed to an expansive take on sexuality,” he added.
Delayed sex also aligns with the decline in sexual activity among Americans overall, and among members of Gen Z especially. (Gen X women may be the exception.) According to preliminary results of a survey conducted by the Kinsey Institute and DatingAdvice.com, about 1 in 5 single American adults identifies as a virgin, defined as never having engaged in partnered sex acts.
Men are slightly more likely than women to report being virgins, and nearly half of Gen Z and one-quarter of millennials report virgin status.
Spoiler alert: By the end of the 10 episodes of “Are You My First?” all of the contestants remain virgins, at least when it comes to intercourse.
From “Bonjour Tristesse” to the Jonas Brothers’ purity rings, American popular culture has long regarded sexual inexperience and sex debuts with a mix of shame and curiosity.
Starting in the 1950s, movies started to explore but punish teenage desire, saving most of the wrath for young women. In “Splendor in the Grass” (1961), Natalie Wood’s poor Deanie is put through hell just for wanting sex.
Mores loosened after the sexual revolution of the 1960s, ushering in the heyday of virginity-losing films in the ’70s and ’80s — just as the religious right was cozying up to Ronald Reagan. In “Little Darlings” (1980), from a female quest perspective, and “Losin’ It” (1982), from a male one, the rite of passage came with pleasure as much as regret.
On television, virginity plot lines have fueled shows as different as “The Facts of Life” and “Sex Education,” and many “Beverly Hills, 90210” fans will always remember where they were when Donna lost her virginity to David. Pop music has long danced around, and with, virginity. Decades after the Shirelles wondered “Will You Love Me Tomorrow,” artists like Madonna (“Like a Virgin,” 1984) and Lorde (whose latest album is simply called “Virgin”) continue to return to the subject — whether literally, figuratively or somewhere in between.
In 2011, TLC debuted what might be the clearest forerunner to “Are You My First?”: “Virgin Diaries,” which spotlighted couples who were waiting for marriage. And just this spring, TLC’s “Virgins” followed adults who put off sex into their 30s and 40s.
These movies and TV shows were often reflections of their times. The “True Love Waits” pro-virginity movement, which was born in Christian churches and found its highest expression at purity balls, gained mainstream attention in the 1990s. Five years ago, “Virginity Rocks” T-shirts captured the fancy of Gen Z-ers, some of whom wore them sincerely and others with a smirk.
“Club celibacy,” as Bristowe calls it on “Are You My First?,” is continually being rebranded.
Critics weren’t exactly on board with “Are You My First?”: “As chaotic as you’d expect,” wrote The Daily Beast, echoing other reviews that questioned the show’s low stakes and reason for being.
There’s no word on whether “Are You My First?” will get a second season. Plumb, the producer, said that if it does, the show might consider including queer contestants — although good luck defining their sexual debuts.
Like many reality TV shows, “Are You My First?” may find that a disproportionate share of its viewership is of the hate-watch variety. (Hulu declined to share audience data from the show’s first month of streaming.) Still, among the American TV-watching public, there’s unquestionably an audience for hot people with conservative views on sex and sexuality.
And whether or not the show reflects a virginity-obsessed cultural moment, it might be a harbinger just the same.
“I don’t care if young people are having less sex,” Sherman said. “But it’s worth paying attention to if sex is a proxy measure for people being vulnerable or building empathy for people who are different from themselves. Being willing to be intimate with people is key for an individual to have a full life and key for a society to function.”
This article originally appeared in The New York Times.
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