Jess and Dom From ‘Love Island’ Got Married on ITV and Now I Believe in Love Again

Love Island was arguably the most vital cultural touchstone of last summer, an endless stretch of dusky hot–dry months in which there was not a single international football tournament or high-profile political assassination to bring us all together.

Instead of Ronaldo doing the samba through an airport, we had Marcel elegantly falling in love with Gabby. Instead of JFK’s head exploding into pink shards, we had Jonny blinking really fast while doing fingering. What I am saying here is Love Island 2017 was a perfect storm – a devoid summer, a perfect cast, a reality show that rolled and accelerated into something more massive that could ever be expected – elevating all who were in it onto a previously unknowable level of fame. And this year, when Love Island comes inevitably around again, it won’t be the same: the cast will know they are being watched and analysed by millions, become too knowing and self-aware, just an inch too hungry for that Missguided swimwear line deal, just slightly too thirsty for a catchy "Muggy Mike"–alike nickname. Plus, the World Cup is on. Love Island 2018 is doomed to catch fire and spiral, dying, into the sea. But 2017… man, 2017. 2017 was absolutely perfect.

Was it sustainable, though? Was that intense level of captivation and fame in any way sustainable? Or are the Love Island 2K17 alumni doomed to scatter and fall apart, breaking up and un-breaking up, each magazine shoot the smiles just a little wider, a little more empty, a little less love between them, our feelings for them just a little more dimmed?

Extremely, extremely relevant segue: here's Jess and Dom from Love Island getting married live on Good Morning Britain:

Things to note:

- Richard Arnold, England’s Rose, fucking up magnificently around ten or 15 times, but most especially right at the end where he somehow conspired to say "luzz island" instead of "love";

- That Jess's vows explicitly contained reference by name to a man she allegedly cheated on Dom with seconds after leaving the Love Island villa together (allegedly, allegedly) and if that – the ability to mention the name, laugh and move on, plow deeper into your relationship in spite of it – isn’t an expression of true love and forgiveness, then I don’t know what is;

- Jeremy Kyle, chuntering in the background, whose guest half-term turn on GMB can essentially be described as "single dad being ignored for 45 minutes at a garden centre";

- A two-piece calypso band playing them out, somehow more depressing that cheerful despite the notes being played;

- The immediate post-wedding interview, in which Richard Arnold England’s Rose ask what they’re doing for their "real wedding", and Jess Shears just says the word "Mykonos";

- The fact that both bride and groom are wearing immaculate white, matching and almost certainly sponsor-provided swimwear.

It is clattering, shonky, corny, unforgiveable chaos, possibly the most lo-fi and British moment in TV history. I obviously think it’s great. The two kiss, for just a split second, and invisible fireworks explode. You believe once again that love can be real.

It must be weird, being Jess Shears or Dom Lever, locked in the prison of their love. In the immediate aftermath of this year’s series, I – the closest thing this country has to a Love Island scholar – confidently asserted that Jess had, out of all of the contestants, the raw potential to become this country’s Kim Kardashian, and to a degree I do still stand by that: early era Kim was essentially a Juicy Couture tracksuit come to life, a Paris Hilton side-accessory, who would pose with any possible branded drinks bottle or appear on any reality show or go to any LA party to garner enough early fame to roll up into a ball and increase to the mega-size she has done now, plus she has glowed up like nobody in history has ever glowed up before.

Early signs seem to show Jess is on the right track: she’s remodelled her lips I’d say two or three times since the show aired; she’s got 1.1 million Instagram followers and posts them 25 percent off codes every day without fail; she’s already been laughed at for blocking herself in her house forever in the name of sponsored content. To truly ascend, she needs to lose Dom – they need to now have a two-season ITVBe reality show where Dom variously walks into a perfect marble kitchen, squinting and topless, saying "you what?" while Jess argues at him, then they adopt a £6k pedigree dog together, then she buys a silver BMW and has an affair with her blonde-ly anonymous personal trainer – and then she can become her destiny. But for now she’s getting married on Good Morning Britain in a brief segment to support Valentine’s Day. Sample dialogue, pre-wedding:

In many ways this is the true, actual spirit of Valentine’s Day: it’s just a laugh, isn’t it? It’s just a bit of fun. Love, in your twenties especially, is something that’s seen as very holy and sacred, but is essentially just something you say when you’ve seen someone naked 45 times and you still fancy them, a sort of level up from fucking. Valentine’s Day is seen as this sort of trashy it’s-just-to-sell-cards-and-book-up-dinner-tables performative kind of love – in many ways the same as a wedding, a sort of tongues-out acknowledgement of how deeply uncool earnestly loving someone can be. So, actually, marrying someone in swimwear on ITV morning TV is possibly the most sensible reaction to that in these modern times.

Jess and Dom’s love – love as a sponsorship opportunity, love as performance art, love as contracted by ITV who own all rights national and international to said love for the next two years, love as a way of maintaining relevance as you both slowly slide down the hill of not mattering any more – is probably more a way of maintaining their STK-and-white-teeth lifestyle than anything else, and none of this will really matter in five years when Jess is a billionaire married to Neymar. But for now, it’s something.

You know what? I've gone full circle, now. I’ve watched it again, and Jess and Dom marrying each other under the watchful eye of Richard Arnold England’s Rose is actually the most honest and romantic thing I’ve ever seen. This is the only true expression of love I acknowledge any more. Happy Valentine’s Day, one and all. May we all find daytime TV love at some point in our lifetimes.

@joelgolby