REALITY TV has become an overwhelming phenomenon . Whether its dancing, ice skating, cooking or music, reality show fever has well and truly taken hold. Huddersfield New College student Samantha Hayes examines our obsession with the genre....

YOU know you’re famous when you have a spoof made about you.

If that’s the case, reality TV has confirmed its place in the big time, following the success of Channel 4’s satire on the genre, Dead Set.

Running to celebrate Halloween, Dead Set lampooned Big Brother, the very show which kicked off the reality TV era.

The housemates found the show’s house was the only safe haven in a country overtaken by zombies.

Was this Channel 4 being clever – are the zombies supposed to represent the public who mindlessly lap up all this reality show fodder?

Maybe not. But it’s true that the success of shows like X Factor, Strictly Come Dancing and Big Brother illustrate we are a nation obsessed with ‘reality’ TV.

The funny thing is, these shows are not at all real. They are edited, contrived and designed to give us an escape from everyday life – to make us believe anyone can ‘live the dream’ of being famous.

That really sucks us in, seeing everyday people turned into celebrities by their appearance on reality TV – whether or not they have talent.

It’s our interest which feeds the phenomenon. If nobody bought Heat magazine or OK to read all about Jade Goody’s latest boyfriend or Jordan’s next boob job, these semi-celebrities would fade back into mediocrity.

Why are we so obsessed? Do we really want to be like the Big Brother contestants who are desperate for fame?

Every Tuesday I got to Tesco to buy three magazines – two celebrity based glossies like ‘Closer’, ‘New’ or ‘Reveal’ then one true life magazine. I like to see the latest pictures of celebs falling out of clubs, actresses without any make up or the latest A-lister to fall victim to the size 0 craze.

Those people in the magazines like Jade Goody, Chantelle, Danielle Lloyd make their money by desperately selling their stories about anything and everything. My friends and I hate the people for who they are and what they stand for, but find flicking through the articles irresistible.

Do we yearn for the same lifestyle or is it simply that the ups and downs of wannabe celebrities’ lives appeal to the voyeur in us?

We love to watch people build up to their five minutes of fame – but we enjoy it even more when we can watch them fall from grace in the public eye when it’s all over.

Otherwise why would the woes of Amy Winehouse or Kerry Katona warrant so many column inches?

There was a whole programme on ITV dedicated to the rise and fall of Celebrity Big Brother winner Chantelle Houghton. Piers Morgan grilled her on her Celebrity Big Brother win and marriage and divorce to pop singer Preston, every bit played out in glossy magazine articles.

She admitted the happy couple image had been a front, but she had loved every second of the fame. She is hooked – and it seems so are we.

We like to think we live in a civilised age. But some might consider our love of watching the car crash TV of Z-list celebrity lives no less distasteful than Victorians poking fun at ‘freaks’ in circus shows.

The real question is, what is this obsession with celebrity and fake ‘reality’ doing to us?

The other day in my classroom I counted about six girls still sporting the Victoria Beckham “Pob” haircut. The word clone sprang to mind. Half our population walks around with the same hairstyles, clothes and looks, inspired by WAGs or pop stars.

So what if people are shown in the media – do we have to follow them like sheep? Have we lost the power to decide what we really think?

Amy Winehouse’s battle with drugs or Nicole Richie’s anorexic episode could be seen as a salutary lesson to youngsters. But many accuse the media of glamorising their decline, encouraging young girls to be skinny or drug addicted. But is it really the fault of the press? They are just serving the public’s demand for scandal.

You can either blame the media for things that happen or blame yourself for idolising celebrities to the point where you lose your true identity.

If we keep buying the magazines or watching the shows, we are as much to blame for the content as the TV companies and publishers who make them.