Why Queer Eye Beats Every Other Makeover Show (and Why You'll Binge A Whole Series in One Sitting)

And why it's star is Karamo Brown

The Star of Queer Eye - Karamo Brown

Let’s be honest: the makeover genre has always walked a tightrope between feel-good transformation and voyeuristic schadenfreude. From home makeovers to wardrobe overhauls, we’ve all tuned in to see the before-and-after drama—sometimes uplifted, sometimes just entertained. But in 2018, Netflix’s reboot of Queer Eye didn’t just raise the bar. It lovingly smashed it into rainbow confetti and handed it back to us with a hug, a therapist, a new self-care routine, and a reminder that transformation starts inside.

If you’ve never seen Queer Eye—or if you vaguely remember the early 2000s original—it’s time. This isn’t just a makeover show. It’s a soul show. And no one, no one, does it better.

The Premise (And the Difference)

Each episode of Queer Eye follows the Fab Five—five queer experts in their fields—as they help a “hero” level up their life. Sounds simple, right? It isn’t. Because while traditional makeover shows often slap on a coat of paint, buy some new clothes, and call it growth, Queer Eye digs deep. Yes, there’s fashion, food, home design, and grooming. But the secret ingredient? Culture, led by Karamo Brown.

Karamo is the show’s beating heart. Where other experts might change your haircut, Karamo helps you reframe your entire narrative. He gets under your skin—in the most compassionate, confronting way. If the Fab Five are a band, Karamo is the bassline. You don’t always notice it at first, but it’s what holds the whole sound together.

But before we go full soul-deep with Karamo, let’s meet the crew.

Why The Fab Five Just Work

Each of the five brings something distinct to the table, but their chemistry is what makes the show magic.

• Tan France (Fashion): British-Pakistani, always tailored, and gently savage in the best way. He makes you feel like looking sharp isn’t about trends—it’s about self-respect.

• Antoni Porowski (Food & Wine): The emotionally tender Canadian who will cry over guacamole with you and make your heart melt while teaching you to roast a chicken. Somehow both rugged and boy-next-door.

• Jonathan Van Ness (Grooming): A gender-nonconforming whirlwind of positivity, curls, and affirmations. Jonathan doesn’t just give you a haircut—they give you permission to be fabulous.

• Bobby Berk (Design): The powerhouse introvert who remodels your entire house in a week while carrying the emotional weight of your family’s trauma. Often overlooked, always essential.

• Karamo Brown (Culture): The emotional architect. The therapist, motivator, coach, mirror. He doesn’t just see you. He gets you to see yourself.

Individually, they’re brilliant. But together? They are a chosen family, a healing unit, and a comedic quintet rolled into one. And crucially—they genuinely love their heroes. They don’t pity them. They honour them.

Why Queer Eye Hooked Us All

Let’s get psychological. We didn’t binge-watch Queer Eye just to see people get new throw pillows and better skin. We watched because we’re starving for something deeper.

We’re lonely. We’re unsure. We’re exhausted from perfection culture. And suddenly—here comes a show where five queer men wrap their arms (and eyes, and attention) around someone ordinary and say:

“You’re worthy. Right now. Not when you lose 10 pounds. Not when you get promoted. Today.”

It’s intimacy on screen—but in a world where vulnerability is rare and realness is currency.

And then… there’s Karamo.

Karamo Brown: The Soul Surgeon

Karamo isn’t your usual “culture expert.” He’s not there to take you to a museum or tell you what books to read. He’s there to hold your emotional mirror. His role is to help people excavate the beliefs, traumas, and shame that are keeping them stuck.

He does it gently, but directly. With eye contact, groundedness, and a voice that feels like your big brother and your therapist had a baby who majored in wisdom.

Some of his most unforgettable moments?

• The Cop and the Black Man (Season 1): Karamo rides with a white Georgia police officer, and they end up having a raw, vulnerable conversation about police brutality, racial identity, and empathy. The scene could’ve been TV landmine. Instead, it became a masterclass in grace, dialogue, and emotional courage.

• Wesley the Amputee Hero: After losing his leg in a car accident, Wesley stopped seeing himself as attractive or capable. Karamo didn’t try to “fix” that with toxic positivity. He just sat with him. Asked questions. Reframed. And reminded Wesley that worthiness isn’t about limbs.

• The Dad Who Didn’t Feel Loved: Karamo sat with a man who’d been rejected by his father and was now struggling to connect with his own son. Watching Karamo dismantle generational shame—not by lecturing but by listening—was one of the rawest, most healing moments of the series.

Time and again, Karamo asks the questions we’re all too scared to ask ourselves:

“Who told you that lie about yourself?”

“What are you afraid would happen if you showed up fully?”

“What would it mean if you forgave yourself?”

A Makeover for the Soul

What Queer Eye teaches—through Karamo’s coaching, Tan’s confidence boosts, Jonathan’s permission-giving, Bobby’s sense of sanctuary, and Antoni’s invitation to nourish—is that we’re not broken. We’re just hiding.

It’s less about becoming someone new and more about coming home to yourself.

And let’s be clear: these men are not swooping in to be saviors. They’re not saying, “You need us to be fixed.” They’re saying, “You’ve been worthy all along. We’re just here to remind you.”

That message lands especially powerfully when it comes from five queer men—people who have had to do their own journey of self-acceptance in a world that often rejected them. Their presence is a reclamation of space. Their kindness is revolutionary.

Why You’ll Binge It (and Probably Cry)

You’ll watch the first episode out of curiosity. You’ll stay for the healing. And soon you’ll be crying over a middle-aged trucker who’s learning how to moisturise and finally say “I love you” to his grown daughter.

You’ll feel your own shame loosen. You’ll hear echoes of your own inner critic in these strangers. And you’ll watch those voices get softer.

Karamo will probably say something to a hero that will hit you so hard you pause the episode, open your Notes app, and write it down. His wisdom sneaks up on you—not flashy, not showy. But deep. Unflinching. Transformative.

Final Word: This Isn’t About Makeovers. It’s About Permission.

Queer Eye beats other makeover shows because it doesn’t try to fix people—it frees them. It doesn’t just give them better jeans and countertops. It gives them back their reflection.

And Karamo Brown? He’s the one who gently turns their face toward the mirror and says, “Look. Really look. You’re already enough.”

So whether you’re new to the show or returning for a rewatch, here’s your permission: binge it. Cry. Laugh. Text your best friend. Book therapy. Reorganise your wardrobe. Have a cheese moment with Antoni.

But most of all?

Start listening to your own Karamo voice. It’s already inside you.It's why I called my Trauma Therapy and Training business CaramoCare.