Albanian broadcaster Zjarr has never shied away from controversy, but in 2016 its decision to have female news anchors appear braless ignited a firestorm of debate at home and abroad. In a country where conservative traditions and political influence often shape what airs on television, station owner Ismet Drishti defended the provocative format as a symbol of unvarnished honesty. “In Albania, political powers manipulate the news,” he insisted. “By presenting our anchors naked—metaphorically speaking—we’re stripping away censorship and showing facts exactly as they are.”
The gamble paid off: viewership skyrocketed, and suddenly Zjarr’s presenters became celebrities overnight. Twenty-one‑year‑old Enki Bracaj shot to fame when she walked into her audition with an unbuttoned blouse, confident that only boldness would set her apart. A public relations student at the time, Enki recalled that her parents’ support gave her the courage to embrace the station’s daring concept. She later left Zjarr for a Playboy modeling deal—an exit officially attributed to pay disputes, but widely understood as the true catalyst given Albania’s lingering taboos around nudity.
Replacing her was twenty‑four‑year‑old Greta Hoxhaj, a local TV veteran who, in just months, transformed into Zjarr’s new face of daring news delivery. Greta insisted her choice of wardrobe belonged solely to her on‑air persona: off camera, she dressed no differently than any other woman her age. “I regret nothing,” she said, crediting the format with launching her career and winning her legions of fans.
Critics decried Zjarr’s tactic as sexist gimmickry, exploiting women’s bodies for ratings. Social media buzzed with outraged comments—some calling it “pathetic,” others “disgustingly demeaning.” Yet surprisingly, major feminist and journalist organizations in Albania stayed mostly silent. Only Aleksander Cipa, head of the Union of Albanian Journalists, publicly shot back: “Nudity cannot solve our media’s deeper crisis. It’s a desperate stunt, not a solution.”
Viewers, however, held mixed opinions. Some applauded Zjarr’s boldness as a challenge to stale conventions; others saw it as a step too far in objectifying women. Journalism expert Leonard Olli, speaking from Tirana, shrugged that dissatisfied audiences could always “change the channel,” though few did.
Today, years after the original uproar, Zjarr’s experiment still divides public opinion. Was it a groundbreaking stance against censorship or simply a ratings‑grab cloaked in symbolism? As broadcasters worldwide search for fresh ways to engage viewers, Zjarr’s braless anchors remain a provocative case study in where media innovation and ethical boundaries collide. What do you think—did Zjarr break new ground, or cross an unacceptable line? Share your thoughts below.