Hardly a model show, sweetie

So, Britain's Next Top Model is back and there's so much to talk about, dahling.

Not least the annoyingly uncatchy new name, Britain and Ireland's Next Top Model, leading to the unwieldy acronym BAINTM.

I wondered whether I'd be able to sit through the whole show without being sick. Not at the sight of poor awkward teenagers stripped down to their bikinis (though only in Scotland - why were the London auditionees allowed to keep their clothes on?), but at the nauseatingly swirly, zooming camerawork that made it impossible to focus.

Then there was the annoying Fearne Cotton voiceover, although she is at least better than Elle Macpherson, whose narrative style was very odd last year.

There are other changes too, particularly having the judges travel the country for X Factor-style auditions. Why must every reality show now include these bits? MasterChef did it but this is far more contrived, with the cruel judges pushing the girls until they broke down in tears, then making them 'reach down inside yourself' to come up with a sob story before they would put them through to the strains of Greatest Day or Rule the World. So cliched.

Going out on the street to scout for potential models seems unnecessary too. Charley Speed stopped girls in the street only to tell them they were too old or too short. Gee, thanks for that.

I'm sure I saw Millie from Made in Chelsea among the London audtionees, proving how desperate she is to get on telly.

Perhaps this is just the start of more reality TV crossovers, and next we'll see The Only Way Is Essex lot entering Britain's Got Talent. And their talent? Making millions of people watch a load of rubbish. That's some achievement.