These motivations may seem laughable, but they are the parody of a devastating truth - in order to be loved and approved of, young women today believe that they need to master it all. Ja'mie fighting on ABC's Private School Girl episode last night. The troubling relationship established between Ja'mie and body image tells a story in itself. Her modus operandi when attacking another girl - as natural to her as breathing – is criticising her “flat-chest”, sexual preference or body size. Psychotherapist Susie Orbach says the body has become symbolic for a person's worthiness or a measure of their success. “The body is turning from being the means of production into production itself” and fat is synonymous with failure, and the meanings attached to it “highly complex”. Throw in what is promoted on social media, published in magazines or photo-shopped on advertisements and it becomes evident that pressures around the body cannot be escaped. It can get to the point of being so overly-saturated it can stop being seen at all.

Which is why what Lilley has created is so important. The portrait he paints of what it's like to be a girl growing up in this impossible, contradictory world is disarmingly honest. Not to mention that he has managed it in the format of a half-hour comedy segment and, most astonishingly, in drag. Ja'mie may call people fat and ugly but that is what she perceives in herself,and therefore all girls do the same. That said, to be represented is not to be condoned. Ja'mie is a racist, sexist, superficial, homophobic, materialistic, xenophobic demon child. When called upon, she is capable of demonstrating all these qualities in a single aside, without breaking stride and often without anyone batting an eyelid. The question then raised by Lilley is: are young women, in order to make sense of their place in the world, becoming monsters? Being the centre of attention and popularity is key to Ja'mie's sense of pride and purpose.

When Erin - Ja'mie's arch nemesis and a border at Hillford Girls Grammar - takes an interest in Kwami, the African student being helped through Ja'mie's "A Boy In Need is a Boy Indeed" program, where Ja'mie takes it upon herself to give a helping hand to “the homeless, the retarded, the black”, Ja'mie, is affronted. How dare someone like Erin even considering approaching her and her perfect prefect friends? “Like, I'm not your friend, you're a f---ing lesbian, you're fat, go away and stop trying to cash in on my fucking African”. Cue head toss and hair flick. The question then raised by Lilley is: are young women, in order to make sense of their place in the world, becoming monsters? These monster-esque qualities can also be identified in the lead characters of Harmony Korine's 2012 film Spring Breakers. Candy and Faith, played by none other than Disney's ex-princesses Selena Gomez and Vanessa Hudgens, feel a need to be strong, to be rich, to be smart, unafraid and sexually confident, while threatening to shoot someone and rob them in order to go on spring break. Despite the fact Ja'mie is yet to don a bikini, balaclava and an automated weapon – though I wouldn't put it past her – it seems a stone's throw away from her threatening to “f---cking kill herself” if daddy cancels the schoolies trip to Bali she booked on his Amex card.

The monstrosity of these women and the sense that they are a tragedy born out of the chaotic values of the world they're operating in seems to be the heart of the universe Lilley and Korine have created. This is what the world has come to. Yet Lilley goes deeper than Korine by zooming in on the emotional toll negotiating such pressures takes. He explores the sense of failure and devastation when, inevitably, all the balls Ja'mie is attempting to juggle come crashing down - literally and metaphorically. When Mitchell, the Year 10 Kenton Scholarship student Ja'mie “likes, so much”, breaks up with her after not realising they were “official”, for Ja'mie it is heartbreaking. In the prior three episodes the dynamic between the pair has been established and celebrated through Facebook-status updates and concerns about whether he'll reject her because her “tits aren't big enough". After Mitchell is Facebook tagged at Westfield with Ja'mie's BFF Madison, Ja'mie asks just two questions of him: "Did you kiss her?" … "Yes"; "Is it because I'm fat?" … "No". She then turns to her Rapunzel-haired tribe in tears. The question of whether or not there is more for a character like Ja'mie to say after her previous appearances on Summer Heights High and We Can Be Heroes is like questioning whether Einstein should bother exploring the same formula, or if Shakespeare should really be revisiting the whole “tragedy” thing again. Loading

It is up to the artist – or genius, pick your term – to decide. And, in this case, given the body of work, the craftsmanship and uncanny insight, the evidence would strongly suggest that in Chris Lilley, and his colourful array of monsters, we can most certainly trust. Madeleine Ryan, 24, is a Melbourne actress, who graduated from a private school.