Amazon Prime Video’s “The Summer I Turned Pretty” has taken the world by storm, and for good reason. Taylor Swift needle drops, picturesque visuals of idyllic East Coast beaches and a juicy love triangle: the show has all the makings of a hit teenage dramedy — and yet many of the characters are highly unlikable. 

Adapted from Jenny Han’s book trilogy of the same name, “The Summer I Turned Pretty” follows Isabel “Belly” Conklin (Lola Tung) as she navigates love and loss at her family’s summer home in Cousins Beach. The main conflict centers on Belly’s love triangle with brothers Conrad (Christopher Briney) and Jeremiah Fisher (Gavin Casalegno), who share the beach house with Belly’s family. 

Although I initially read the books in high school, I hadn’t seen a single episode of the show until my first week back in Los Angeles. I knew the third and final season was coming to a close, and admittedly, I wanted to be able to keep up with “Team Jeremiah versus. Team Conrad” in real time. So, like any normal person would, I binge-watched over 19 hours of “The Summer I Turned Pretty” in less than a week. 

The first season was somewhat painful to sit through. Since the show follows Belly as she grows up, the first season begins with her — and everyone else — at their most emotionally immature (I was and am still confused why anyone would willingly go by “Belly”). 

Season two has been my favorite so far, despite Belly choosing the wrong brother in its finale. I won’t spoil the ending for anyone currently catching up, but it’s ironic that she picks the “easy” brother to avoid getting hurt when he’s the one who ends up cheating on her. As for season three … the good episodes are enjoyable, and the bad ones are total filler. 

A lot of the show’s characters are difficult to root for, and I don’t think that’s on purpose. Jeremiah is a complete brat. Belly is ignorant to others’ emotions, and Conrad’s avoidant attachment style gets old within the first season. 

Nearly everyone —except maybe Laurel, played by Jackie Chung — has motivated me to press pause, scream into a pillow and thrash around uncontrollably. So why am I and 25 million other viewers captivated by the beachy, chaotic wonderland of Cousins? 

“The Summer I Turned Pretty” is good, old lighthearted viewing. The plot and characters are so simple that you don’t even have to give the show your full attention to follow along — although I will admit, I was pretty invested for most of those 19 hours. For me, the show is akin to reality TV. I can’t always tell if I’m enjoying what I’m watching, but I am physically unable to tear my eyes away from the screen. 

Not every popular TV show has to be particularly insightful. And maybe the experience of watching a show can be more worthwhile than the show itself. 

More than any recent TV release, “The Summer I Turned Pretty” is a near-universal celebration of girlhood, one fostering a scarce moment of digital unity. Without fail, every Wednesday, virtual discourse abounds about the week’s latest episode. 

“Love Island” is the only show that comes to mind as sparking a similar level of online discussion, but it doesn’t center personal growth in the way “The Summer I Turned Pretty” does. Belly, like everyone else in the show, makes stupid decisions, but they’re hers to make and clean up. She’s no different from any teenager figuring out who they are, and Lola Tung makes her character’s bad choices fun to watch. 

Even though the show revolves around the Belly-Jeremiah-Conrad love triangle, the focus always reverts to what Belly wants. “The Summer I Turned Pretty” may have its flaws (and it has plenty), but the show’s centering of Belly’s everyday experiences is a breath of fresh air. 

For a fictional character, Belly is almost abnormally normal. Sure, her love life and beach house aren’t relatable for most viewers, but her character in and of itself isn’t anything particularly exceptional; she gets average grades, fights with her family, plays volleyball and loves the beach. That normality resonates with viewers. 

It’s rare for teenage girls to have access to content that is unabashedly made for them. The reason that “The Summer I Turned Pretty” has done so well is precisely because it is filling that content gap.

This is in large part due to Han’s positioning as the showrunner and executive producer. According to The Hollywood Reporter, only 32.5% of showrunners in 2023 were women. This gender disparity is reflected in the kinds of stories we see getting told. 

I’m not saying that “The Summer I Turned Pretty” makes for groundbreaking or even great television, but the community the show has created is special regardless. Clearly, many young women enjoy seeing a version of themselves on screen — albeit in a highly romanticized way involving a multimillion-dollar beach house and two good-looking guys. 

Such vehement celebrations of being an annoying teenage girl are few and far between. And if that celebration comes in the form of an insufferable 21-year-old (with a horrible nickname!) torn up over which attractive brother she wants to date, so be it. 

Fiona Feingold is a junior writing about women in the entertainment industry in her column, “Femininomenon,” which runs every other Friday.