Luke Newton as Colin and Nicola Coughlan as Penelope in Bridgerton Season 3 (Image Courtesy of Yahoo!)
Alexia: Hi! I’m Alexia Bailey, a sophomore here at CU Boulder. While I may just be in my second year, I’m here to share everything I’ve picked up so far, which is a surprising amount of information. “What’s Eating at Alexia” is my unofficial and unfiltered guide to some of the things that being a CU Boulder Buff brings. Think of it as your guide to navigating everything that makes CU Boulder, well, CU Boulder. Whether you’re a freshman finding your footing or a senior with “no body, no crime” level grievances about finals week, I’m here to share my takes, tips and honest observations on everything from the sometimes-unpredictable Buff Bus system to navigating campus protests (or dodging them entirely). College is a wild, unforgettable ride, and “What’s eating at Alexia” is here to make sense of some of it, one opinion at a time.
American television has come a long way since 1973, when PBS shocked viewers with “Steambath,” widely credited as the first show to feature female nudity. Valerie Perrine appeared topless, leaving audiences unsure whether to gasp, faint or change the channel. Today, nudity is no longer purely scandalous; it’s become a storytelling tool. With the stardom and success that have come with shows like”Bridgerton,” “Euphoria” and “Heated Rivalry,” it’s easy to see how far the medium has evolved. All three series feature breathtaking visuals, diverse casts and a reliance on intimacy as a narrative shortcut, using moments of nudity to accelerate character development and deepen emotional stakes.
Clutch your pearls, grandma. What’s eating at me isn’t the nudity itself, but its growing presence in popular media, particularly in streaming, and the way it’s so often reduced to spectacle rather than understood as storytelling. “Euphoria” leads the charge as the oldest of the three series and it faced immense online backlash with the raw depiction of a struggling drug addict, Rue, and her volatile, emotionally immense relationship with her friend Jules. The show’s nudity, involving teenage characters, has sparked controversy, particularly around depictions of violent intimacy and vulnerability among minors. Critics and viewers alike questioned whether the show crossed the line between portrayal and excess and whether its graphic moments were necessary to tell its story. Yet much of that controversy overshadowed what “Euphoria” was ultimately attempting to do: depict adolescence as chaotic, uncomfortable and often unsafe, without softening the consequences. The series uses intimacy and nudity not to glamorize youth, but to underscore vulnerability, power imbalances, and the lack of protection afforded to its characters, especially its young women. And despite its criticism, the drama garnered 5.6 million viewers per episode across all platforms shortly after its release and is expected to release its anticipated third season in April.
More recently, “Heated Rivalry” averaged nine million viewers per episode in the United States, according to The Hollywood Reporter, and many, including myself, suspect that audience numbers aren’t coming solely from casual or closeted hockey fans. And “Bridgerton” faces the same success with its third season, gaining large-scale media attention along with 45.1 million views in total opening weekend, and with the fourth season released on Jan 29, it’s sure to garner the same amount, if not more, viewers.
However, I’m not going to lie, I struggled to see the appeal of all three series at first. But after meticulously watching them, I’ll admit that I was wrong. Although my high school experience was a walk in the park compared to many of the characters’ experiences in “Euphoria,” the show’s dynamic use of color and makeup, unapologetic queer storylines, and drug addiction plot drew me in long before the promise of seeing Eric Dane’s prosthetic appendage. “Heated Rivalry,” too, isn’t the gratuitous parade of nakedness its reputation suggests. There’s something genuinely special about watching audiences root for two characters to finally name their love for one another. Remarkably, those characters are queer and exceptional that they’re allowed a happy ending. To reduce the show to nudity alone would be an unfair generalization, one that undersells the writers, directors, and actors who made it. Similarly, Bridgerton, the current “it” romantic period drama, distinguishes itself from comparable series through its recurring and deliberate use of nakedness to further the plot. The show exposes the Regency era’s profound lack of sex education and illustrates how that absence shapes young women both before and after marriage. Nudity also functions as a form of character development. It’s a visual signal to viewers that these characters are shedding innocence and stepping into adulthood. It’s hard not to wonder whether the drama would be as compelling without it.
The way that viewers consume this type of “vulgar” media is wholly lacking shame. “Euphoria,” “Heated Rivalry” and “Bridgerton” all have dedicated fanbases, and the popularity of including nudity and intimate moments only seems to fuel their appeal. Rather than turning audiences away, these shows draw viewers in, proving that vulnerability, emotional honesty, and yes, occasionally nakedness, can be powerful tools for storytelling and also signal a cultural shift in what audiences accept both on and off the screen. Beauty standards themselves are moving away from modesty, as evidenced by moments like Chappell Roan’s nipple clamp dress at the 2026 Grammys, a look that, not long ago, would have caused widespread scandal. Today, however, it sparked conversation rather than outrage, signaling that being naked, or at least daringly exposed, is increasingly normalized. Shows like “Euphoria,” “Heated Rivalry” and “Bridgerton” have played a role in this shift, portraying nudity and vulnerability as integral to storytelling rather than purely titillating. In both music and television, what was once shocking is now a form of self-expression, and audiences are learning to see it without flinching.
Contact CU Independent Opinion Editor Alexia Bailey at alexia.bailey@colorado.edu
