Harry Jowsey is one of the most notorious yet beloved bachelors in the Netflix universe. After flirting his way through Too Hot to Handle and Perfect Match, he gained an online following for being a cheeky Aussie larrikin who loves to date. But now, after years of dating and enjoying everything that single life has to offer, he’s finally ready to settle down and find the one with his own dating show, Let’s Marry Harry.
With his larger-than-life personality and even bigger reputation, Netflix has assembled 20 lovely women aged 23 to 33 who are all ready to settle down. Now, with the help of his best friend Amanda Kloots, his ex-girlfriend Georgia Hassarati and close friend Sonny Henty, Harry is hoping to find The One.
But for fans of reality television, it’s not the first time a very famous Harry has seemingly fronted a reality dating TV show.
Back in 2014, there was another show with a similar premise called I Wanna Marry “Harry”. The difference? It followed 12 American women who were made to believe that they were vying for the heart of Prince Harry. However, in reality, the man they believed to be Prince Harry was really a lookalike named Matthew Hicks.
So, in honour of Harry Jowsey’s new dating show, why don’t we take a walk down memory lane to revisit one of the most bizarre — and dare we say, manipulative — reality shows to land on our screens featuring another “Harry”.

A decade later, I Wanna Marry “Harry” remains one of reality TV’s strangest experiments
The premise behind I Wanna Marry “Harry” relied on assumption. Producers found 12 American women who didn’t really know a whole lot about the monarchy and recruited them for a dating show with someone they described as a prominent male figure. The chosen contestants were taken to the stately setting of Englefield House in the English countryside where they were surrounded by a team of professional servants, butlers and a security detail who only refer to the secret chosen bachelor as “sir”.
When their suitor finally arrives — a Prince Harry impersonator — some of the ladies make the assumption that he is the real Prince Harry. After all, why would you question it if you’re in such a gorgeous UK location already being treated like royalty?
According to the series’ eventual winner, Kimberly Birch, the contestants didn’t have access to their phones, internet, books or television to fact check.
“We met our red-haired English bachelor during a masquerade ball on episode one. We were all masked, and so was he,” she wrote for Business Insider.
“I remember one of my castmates throwing out the idea that he could be Prince Harry, but we didn’t really believe it because it’d never been told to us. Showrunners kind of let us come up with the idea he was Prince Harry on our own.”
While they were never explicitly told, the production team had many tricks up their sleeve to make the premise believable. For example, Kimberly’s second date was crashed by paparazzi. At the time, she says she believed it to be real and that she’d end up on the front page of British tabloids. On another occasion, their red-headed date was removed by security because of a made-up security breach.

It wasn’t until the final three traveled to London that the illusion shattered for Kimberly when she spotted someone in the crowd holding a Prince Harry mask on a stick.
“It didn’t look like our bachelor and it took me right back to reality — this guy is not who we think he is,” she wrote.
“I told the other two girls that I saw a mask and that we weren’t dating Prince Harry but neither believed me. They’re like, “Kim, of course he looks different on a mask.”
However, after that moment, she claimed that producers quarantined her for the rest of the day and coached her into not ruining the twist for the other girls.
Despite working out the truth before the big reveal, Kimberly won the show. However, she says she went her separate ways with lookalike Matt after the cameras stopped rolling.

What was the public reception to I Wanna Marry ‘Harry’?
When I Wanna Marry “Harry” launched in 2014, the viewers’ response was overwhelmingly negative with critics labelling it as being cruel and exploitative. After all, the whole premise was essentially about making a fool of the women who applied for the show.
At the time, The Los Angeles Times referred to it as a “practical joke in the form of a reality show” and chastised those behind the scenes for using gaslighting tactics and psychological manipulation. Meanwhile, Variety questioned whether the purpose of the show was to “inspire viewers to root for those aiming to deceive” the women.
Ultimately though, the show was slammed and promptly cancelled after four episodes.

The era of “deception dating”
I Wanna Marry ‘Harry’ wasn’t an isolated experiment- it was part of a broader mid-2000s trend of deceit-based dating shows. But it’s main inspiration was a 2003 show called Joe Millionaire.
Broadcast by Fox on American screens, the show whisked 20 women away to France to date a handsome 28-year-old man named Evan Marriott, whom they were led to believe was a millionaire. However, in reality he was a model and construction worker who certainly didn’t have millions to his name. The goal was for Evan to whittle down the women to his chosen one, and then tell her the truth.
Their consolation prize? They both walked away with $1 million.
The series was ultimately slammed, with Entertainment Weekly labelling the show as being “dishonest, deceitful and completely distasteful”.

So, where does that leave reality TV today?
While reality television has changed significantly since the days of I Wanna Marry “Harry” and Joe Millionaire, the fascination with love, fame and spectacle remains stronger than ever. Let’s Marry Harry is a great example of that.
The difference today is that audiences are far more media literate and aware of the tricks of the reality TV trade — the editing, the manufactured drama and the carefully constructed narratives designed to keep us watching.
Harry Jowsey might have built his reputation on flirting, cheekiness and being one of reality TV’s most recognisable bachelors, but the central question is no longer whether contestants are being tricked into believing a fantasy. Instead, it is whether — in a world where everyone knows they are performing for an audience and clout — they can actually find something real amongst it all.