‘Wear Whatever the F You Want’: Clinton Kelly and Stacy London return with new approach

Clinton Kelly and Stacy London are back together, and if that statement does not excite you, it can only be because you have never seen “What Not to Wear,” the series they co-hosted from 2003 to 2013 on TLC. (There is no other possible explanation.)

Premiering just six months before “Queer Eye for the Straight Guy,” as “Queer Eye” was known then, it made over its ill-dressed “contributors” with the sort of sensitive brutality one associates with the great Zen masters, a process from which they emerged stylishly clad and spiritually free. Clothes made the woman (and once in a while a man), but the point was that everyone’s already beautiful, if only we know how to show it. (I doubt we watched all 345 episodes in this house, but a couple hundred, quite possibly; I made it a point to interview the hosts in 2010, at the beginning of their eighth season, because I wanted to.)

London and Kelly’s new series, “Wear Whatever the F You Want,” premiering Tuesday on Prime Video, is a different sort of journey to a similar end. “We finally get to do it right this time,” says Kelly, meaning that they are in “the business not of judging so much,” but of letting the guest lead the way.

In the former series, participants — generally happy, or at least not unhappy, with how they dressed but unable to see themselves as others saw them — were elected by friends and families to receive a makeover; it was a sort of an intervention. The “What Not To Wear” system involved secret footage, ambushes, a “360 degree mirror” in which the subject was required to explain her old wardrobe, soon to be discarded forever. Emotions could run high; there was resistance; there were arguments. There were “rules.”

Here, the participants have put themselves forward, or have been recruited through whatever means shows like this are populated. They’re actively seeking change; they know what they want but don’t know how to get it.

Stacy London and Clinton Kelly with a makeover guest on “Wear Whatever the F You Want.”

(Prime Video)

Each has a fantasy ideal. (“Age appropriate” is not a phrase you will hear here, but “comfort zone,” as in leaving it, comes up repeatedly.) We meet Selena, a goth “content creator” with green streaks in her hair, a razor blade earring and a spiked choker, who would like to look more approachable, like Alicia Silverstone in “Clueless.” Naomi, an Amish runaway turned exotic dancer turned mom, has returned to dressing in sacks and bonnets since gaining some weight after pregnancy (more a case of dysmorphia, one would say, than an objective assessment) and is aiming for “country glitz and glam,” à la Dolly Parton. Alan, transitioning male to female, wants something “ambiguous” to express elements of both genders. Patrick, a long-haired “brewery dad” in overalls, a Green Day T-shirt and Crocs, hopes to unleash his inner “punk rock god.” Cancer survivor Freedom looks to be a “powerhouse diva.” And so on, over eight, differently flavored, entertaining episodes.

London and Kelly have been briefed in advance — there are dossiers — so that when the subject arrives at the “Wardrobe Warehouse,” a room filled with promising togs and accessories awaits them. The idea is to work together, with the guest leading the way: “We can be supportive, we can be cheerleaders, we can be guardrails so you don’t go off the cliff but get what you want,” says Kelly, unless it was London; they are a sort of two-headed creature. The hosts express opinions — they will explain what doesn’t work only after the client expresses their own doubts — and will show their delight when they love an outfit (“Awesome!” “Adorable.”), but don’t argue. (“If you’re not feeling it, that’s a no for us.”)

Where “What Not to Wear” was a five-day process, “Wear Whatever the F” has been streamlined and compacted into an eventful, efficient 48 hours, including an opening conversation; a go-wild “style session”; a segment in which they’re sent out to “pressure test” a fantasy outfit in a social setting; and a second style session in which a more refined, but still expressive, hopefully sustainable look is created. In the course of all this, we get a good picture of each client, their family background, formative traumas, hopes and dreams. Halfway through each episode, a friend visits to give the stylists additional perspective. Hair and makeup complete the picture. As in “What Not To Wear,” the episode ends with the transformed subject returning home, to the amazement of their loved ones. It’s a joyous moment.

While the makeovers are engaging, moving and fun — who doesn’t love a Cinderella story? — the main draw of the series are the fairy godparents. Happily together again after a dozen years, London and Kelly are the shadow subjects of the show, like detectives in a procedural. Each episode begins with them walking arm in arm on a New York street, talking about this or that — what kind of dog they’d be, their first big fashion purchase, what they would eat if they could only choose one thing forever, how London is so cold she can’t feel her face.

“They’re like our reality TV parents,” says “visionary artist” Akemi, who would like to look as psychedelic as her paintings, says to visiting friend, Taj, and they do indeed look upon the younger subjects with a kind of parental fondness. At the “pressure test” events, they lurk nearby, observing, but sometimes participating — Kelly will pole and line dance; London will get a tattoo. In their mid-fifties now, they will have a few things to say about kids these days, their slang and such; they snort at Burning Man, to which they’ve never been and will never go. (“I don’t like dust,” says London. “I don’t like porta-potties,” says Kelly.)

They are either having a very good time — with much laughter and banter, and perhaps a tear or two when a butterfly emerges from the cocoon — or else they are excellent actors. I choose to believe the former.