Welcome back, dear friends, to America’s Next Top Model for the fourth and newest cycle of Tyra Banks’s pet project and model retirement fund. While, yes, a new season means fresh grist for the model mill, tonight is all about triumphant returns: the return of the greatest model show evah in a universe of copycats (“Saturn’s Next Top Zorbot” couldn’t hold a candle); the return of Tyra’s beloved red mane (nice to see there are eco-friendly ways of recycling old Strawberry Shortcake dolls); the return of a former, belligerent black sheep turned fluffy, pure, and sweet (she used to put the “tiff” in Tiffany, but now she’s a peacemaker); and the return of Mary, the sweet-faced plus-sizer who came back for one more shot at the big time—no pun intended (and, um, strike the “triumphant” on this one).
I Just Flew Into LAX and Boy Is My Hair Tired
The show opens with a photo montage of The Evolution of Tyra Banks: From Apple-Cheeked Baby to Fierce Ruling Diva, over which Tyra shares her theory that top models are made, not born. Try telling this to the rest of the world’s population that wasn’t lucky enough to be born stunning, 6’ tall, and a size zero. Nature’s got a hell of a lot more to do with it than nurture, witness Brazil. Anyway, let’s indulge Tyra her little hypothesis; as we see footage of past ANTM winners Adrianne Curry, Yoanna House, and Eva Pigford (okay, seeing all them in row has just called my attention to the fact that all these girls must have gotten a ton of schoolyard flack for these names), Tyra talks about how much hard work modeling is. It’s not just showing up and looking pretty. It’s showing up and looking pretty and walking. So there!
This season’s competition proper begins when the 35 semi-finalists arrive at the Los Angeles International Airport. The first girl we meet is a Noelle (20, Reno, NV), who has beautiful, curly, waist-length, honey-colored hair that you know some stylist will want to chop all off in the makeover, just as they start stitching in some extensions on another girl. The world is cruel like that. Kahlen (20, Broken Arrow, OK) looks like every stoner girl skipping every gym class in every high school, but reveals herself as fresh off the turnip truck when she declares she’s “from a small town”, and is finding her first trip to L.A. to be “a little weird.” Girl hasn’t even left the airport; I shudder to think how she’ll react to the rest of this city where people perform plastic surgery on their dogs. They don’t call it LaLaLand for nothing
Next, we get our first glimpse of Brittany (22, Tallahassee, FL), a strikingly gorgeous mélange of Janice D. plus Nikki Cox multiplied by crystal methamphetamine, who says modeling has been her dream from “Day 1” of her life—but we’ll see more, plenty more of her later. Then, Lord Almighty, Ronald McDonald with a gaptooth steps out of the doors of LAX. Actually, the girl with the fro the color of a Flaming Hot Cheeto is Brandy (19, Houston, TX), and she hops on a shuttle to the Century Plaza Hotel with Lluvy (21, Modesto, CA), a doe-eyed doll who was born in Mexico but is now 100% California girl.
I spy with my little eye a familiar face from the Cycle 3 auditions: yes, it’s the infamous Tiffany, who touched our hearts as she scratched some beeyatches’ eyes out in the legendary Stank Ho Poured Beer on My Weave Catfight. She feels she’s now a better person, and what can I say, I’m a sucker for underdogs, so I can’t help but root for her and her cute new 'do. Speaking of familiar faces, stepping off another shuttle bus is Mary, whose gentle prettiness won me (but not the judges) over in last cycle’s auditions. She jokes to her skinny competitors that, “You don’t have to worry about me, because I’m plus and they only pick one.” She says losing out on last cycle “ripped her heart out” and she doesn’t plan on wasting her second opportunity. I deliberately avoided looking at the advanced promo for this cycle in hopes of keeping the suspense for the finalists’ reveal, but oh dear, I don’t recall seeing even one token plus-sizer on any of the ANTM billboards, so I’m already holding onto my heart.
Inside the Century Plaza, the producers oddly stick all 35 semi-finalists in a small conference room without enough chairs, so they crowd around awkwardly or just sit waiting on the floor like lambs for the slaughter. Also like lambs for the slaughter, they scream deliriously at the sight of Mr. Jay Manuel (accompanied by casting director Michelle Mock-Falcon) who asks “What do you think Tyra’s looking for?” Answers range from “unique”to “real” to the cocky “I think Tyra’s looking for me” (ironically, from a girl I don’t think makes it to the finalist stage—cue Nelson from Simpsons “HAHA”).
Tyra herself bursts in on the scene to explain what she’s looking for, sparking an explosion of hysterical screaming, jumping, seizures, and speaking-in-tongues. La TyTy declares she’s looking for “pizzazz” and girls who are not only beautiful on the outside but also beautiful on the inside (so does this explain Michelle—okay, so I peeked at some of the finalists—anyway, that girl must be some hella beautiful on the inside, ‘cuz I ain’t seeing it on the outside, ya heard?). Tyra advises the girls to be themselves, “because I can see through the fake.” And so can we, Tyra, please go back to your natural hair color, it would look so pretty.
“She really cared, she came!” Noelle says, stunned. Why is everyone so shocked Tyra came? Doesn’t she always tell us how she does everything on this show? Isn’t she the damn creator/producer/host/caterer/micromanager of the show? Now if Heidi Klum and her robotic ass showed up instead, then yeah, I would be surprised. Or maybe it would be a whole new show: “Trading Models” or “Host Swap”—for all I know there already is a series like this, with the million friggin’ reality shows on air now.
J. & Jay Modeling Factory
As megalomaniacal as she is, even Tyra admits she doesn’t do it all alone. To help her make selections for the Final 14 are her favorite model nursemaids, the inimitably fabulous runway coach “Miss J.” Alexander, and the inimitably silver-haired creative director “Mr. Jay” Manuel.
The judging starts with Rebecca
of Sunnybrook Farm(21, Minneapolis, MN), a pleasant but indistinct-looking blonde, who resembles a softened Reese Witherspoon in her interviews, and says that ANTM is her last detour on her fast track to marriage and children (presumably with the Emo-haired guy she’s snuggling with on her audition video, and by that I mean Emo Phillips-Emo, not emo-Emo). Tyra asks how she’ll be able to transform with her wholesome girl-next-door looks, and Rebecca says her innocence is her “cover-up” that allows her to “do some things and get away with it”. Her matter-of-fact statement startles me a bit. Does she mean, like, get out of traffic tickets, or something more sinister, like killing homeless people for fun?
Next up is Keenyah (18, Compton, CA), who has a puzzling predilection for layering halter/bikini tops over wife-beater tank tops. Is this something the kids today are doing? Because I’m in my late 20s now and I do not understand this. To me, it just looks awkward and in its haphazardness reminds me of Regina’s cut-out booby top from Mean Girls. Surely it’s some kind of accident, yet she repeats the look so I guess it’s intentional. I’m so distracted by this fashion tic that I miss her whole Straight-Outta-Compton speech; I just catch Jay telling her she can now “represent” and “inspire” folks. She has a very beautiful face and gorgeous skin, though, and I’m sure her voluptuous body proves inspiring to the straight male contingent of the audience as she bounces through her lingerie strut for the judges.
Honky tonk background music announces Kahlen, whom we met at LAX earlier. She’s really playing up the naïve yokel aspect, claiming to have never seen America’s Next Top Model before; “We only have, like, 3 channels,” she declares, which explains why she thought LA was so weird after she arrived—Glory be, Ma, they have running water in the bathrooms here! She says she doesn’t understand fashion, how to walk, or take pictures, electricity, or the giant metallic bird that flew her over; yet when she walks, she serves up enough “Carmen Kass” and “wind in your hair” to earn a big seal of “We Like” from Miss J. Tyra laughs and says, “She’s watching every episode of America’s Next Top Model with that walk!” Disingenuous or not, Kahlen seems to have won the favor of the panel.
Next up is toothy, Marie Osmond lookalike Lindsey from Louisiana. We learn that she is a former-Mormon—Boremon is more like it, NEXT! Jennifer from Richmond, CA, is the opposite of the Mormon-turned-atheist, in fact, through the years she’s found God instead of losing her religion. Aside from Tyra bonding with her over their mutual fiveheads, there’s not much else of interest here either, NEXT!
Once again, we see Brittany, the pretty but pretty crazy brunette we met at the airport. She comes in waving like she’s on a float and speaking a little too loudly, seemingly addressing a large crowd in the distance (perhaps she’s hallucinating). “Did you have a Red Bull this morning?” Miss J. asks; an entire bottle of diet pills is more like it, judging from her even more amped up presence in the judging room. “No, I’m always like this,” Brittany shrieks, before exploding into a bunch of strange noises, as if being possessed by a Warner Bros. cartoon. Understatement of the day: “I’m extremely outgoing. I want to be the center of attention,” she admits, adding that she thinks she was a drag queen in a former life before demonstrating her “Manly Stanley” voice. Honey, I’ve known my fair share of drag queens, and never once have I had the desire to shoot one of them in the buttocks with a tranquilizer dart. Dial it down a notch, beeyotch! She does look smoookin’ hot in her knickers, though. When she leaves, Jay says he’d love to lock Janice and Brittany in a room together. “I think Brittany might come out alive!” Jay squeals before he and Tyra high-five and die with laughter. Actually, that is an event I’d like to see; I also agree with Jay that Brittany might be the only one crazy enough to knock the staples out of Janice D.’s head.
Brittany’s pure insanity is contrasted by the low-key presence of the kinder, gentler Tiffany (21, Miami, FL). There’s a heartrending flashback to last cycle (“It’s okay, I’m used to failing.”) before the new & improved Tiffany says that, thanks to her anger management classes, she doesn’t “jump on people and throw glasses and stuff like that anymore.” Thank God for that! [Slowly rises from having ducked down and protected head at the sight of Tiffany.] Then come the waterworks, as Tiffany talks about being in her luxurious Century Plaza bed but thinking about her baby, with whom she shares a twin bed back at home. Tiffany then recalls how her grandma let her electricity go off in order to buy Tiffany the bathing suits she required for ANTM. Can Tiff’s story get any sadder? Tiff’s honesty earns the sympathy of the judges, like Jay, who believes “that girl wants to change her life. But can she be a model?” Her walk is a tad dodgy, but perhaps she’s a diamond in the rough. Just give her a damn chance, already, if not in the Final 14, then give her a job on staff, or a school scholarship, or a check for $80, something!
Models Gone Wild
At the end of a long day, put a bunch of pretty, skinny girls, many away from home for the first time, in a pool in front of cameras, and predictably they start to let their hair—and inhibitions, and bikini tops—down. The water nymphs gyrate, play Truth or Dare, and engage in playful, quasi-Sapphic frolicking that probably has half the hotel staff surreptitiously popping boners. Even dear, sweet Mary proves that plus-size does not equal shy, as she enthusiastically rips off her clothes when dared. Someone (Michelle?) is pole-dancing (poorly I might add) with a sun-parasol, and Brittany (surprise, surprise) is running amok among the deck chairs topless. Not everyone approves of the girls behaving badly—Lluvy is quick to distance herself from the cheap, attention-seeking high jinks of others, clucking, “That is not the way to go.”
The girls finally manage to get some clothes on for a night on the town. We learn that they’ve been split up into two groups. If you’re over 21, you head over to tony Pan-Asian super-club, White Lotus. For those under 21, you are brought to…a bowling alley. Waah wah wah waaaaaah. But come on, folks, this is Hollywood, so it’s not your standard, musty, smells-like-a-bus-stop bowling alley; it’s the newly-renovated, state-of-the-art, Hollywood fixture Pinz. How many other bowling alleys can boast a laser-light show, or that James Dean was there? In the end, it’s hard to tell who has a better time, actually, even with alcohol as a variable. There was, admittedly, less dry-humping of male strangers at the bowling alley which, if you ask me, is a plus.
Kat Scratch Fever
As if to prove that not only American Idol has the market on the mentally unstable, back in the judging room, we meet Jessika (21, and from Outer Space—well, okay, she says Houston, TX). She looks crazy, she acts crazy, talks crazy, hell her eyebrows look crazy—this girl is what my grandma might have called “touched,” and I don’t mean by an angel, but touched in the head by the hand of CRAZY. “I am known as Lady Kat,” she announces proudly, before gesturing as if scratching with a mighty claw, and exclaiming, “REOWR!” She believes she is the reincarnation of a cat, and to prove her felinity, she demonstrates her “Kat Walk” for the judges, which consists of getting down on all fours, alternating crawling with cat-like noises, and finishing with the piece-de-resistance: licking her paw. The looks on the judges’ faces are priceless, particularly Tyra’s (which seems to say, “WTF?”) and Miss J.’s (which screams, “Bitch, you are crazy.”). Jessika’s not sure how tall she is, so Tyra goes to stand next to her to act as a yardstick (Tyra’s 5’10”). They determine Jessika’s 5’9”, but Jessika is so excited to be standing near the legendary TyTy that she pokes her just to make sure she’s real. Tyra lets out a little scream, and I’m thinking she might want to security on speed-dial, you know, just in case.
Next up is Sarah (22, Baltimore, MD), a tomboy that was always told she wasn’t “good enough, pretty enough, or tall enough” and gosh darn it, people hate you. She looks good enough to me, trotting like a horse on her long legs in her little lingerie. The judges like her small waist and big personality, but will they follow the not-so-subliminal directive on her t-shirt and “Holla Back” at her?
She’s followed by Lluvy, who looks incredibly uncomfortable in a formal black halter dress as she stands before the judges. Tyra immediately clocks her T, asking if that dress is really hers. Lluvy admits she borrowed it from her sister, and Tyra sends her out to change into jeans and a t-shirt. “There she is!” Tyra says, sounding satisfied, and Lluvy seems sooo relieved and 45% cuter in her “Me So Corny” tee—wow, maybe Tyra really does possess some super-human power to see through to a person’s genuine essence. The judges ask Lluvy about her past…AS A GANG MEMBER! That this sweet-looking girl might have once been a hard-azz chola is hard to believe, kind of how Mercedes in Cycle 2 was once known was “The Rudest Girl in the World.” Lluvy dismisses it as the worst stage of her life, and prefers to accentuate the positive: that her dad always wanted her to be a model. Considering he died when she was only 3, I can only assume she must have been one fine-looking baby, or her dad was one of Dionne Warwick’s Psychic Friends.
Michelle (18, Terra Haute, IN) is just ick. This wrestler-cum-model hopeful has cafeteria lady face and walks like a big, burly man (she even trips over her own show when showing off her runway skills). Why is Tyra wasting our time with this one? NEXT! In comes a girl who must have gotten lost on the way to Missy Elliot’s Road to Stardown, because she’s singing her little heart out. She gets no name credit, so I’m sure she’s in no danger of making the Final 14. Neither are any of the other girls in the following montage sequence of judging room goofs and gaffes.
Naima (20, Detroit, MI) comes in dancing with her adorable little Mohawk and says her musician parents named her after a John Coltrane song. How cool is that? Just when I think I couldn’t possibly love her more, she explains she cut her hair as a symbolic act of letting go of craziness from her past (“I wanted to be like a monk”), and she thought a mohawk would be ideal to “center” her thoughts.
Naima’s not the only one with memorable hair, however. Remember Mrs. Pennywise the Clown, Brandy? When she strides in, Tyra compliments her “fellow red-haired sister.” I’m sorry, but if she starts talking, “We all float here,” I’m going to fall out over here. Also, she has gap in her front teeth that goes beyond Lauren Hutton. This gap is so huge, I think there actually is a Gap store located up in there, with a whole staff of people selling khakis and pocket tees and reasonable prices. Brandy compliments Jay’s good hair, and he returns the flattery with a sweet “Yours is beautiful too, just natural.” Tyra muses over how long Brandy’s hair would be if it was straightened and then we get the biggest punchline of the day: Brandy’s hair isn’t even natural! When Brandy tells Tyra it’s not real, Tyra looks as if you just told her Project Runway beat ANTM in ratings. Utter disbelief. “What is it?” Tyra asks, incredulously. “It’s sewn in, my mother did it,” Brandy says, before getting really defensive about it. “Tell your Mama, I ain’t mad at her,” Miss J. says.
Direct from Maui is Island cutie, Tatiana (18), who sometimes looks to me like Kristin Davis from Sex and the City, and other times like an old friend of mine who is French-Tahitian. When the judges question why she left high school, she passionately argues that she did so for good reason, to pursue her dream of becoming a model. Considering many models are plucked from schools at 14 or 15, I wonder why Tyra and the panel even make this an issue, but I guess that’s television for you.
Next is a girl I want call “She Bangs” due to her overwhelming haircut—in judging, you can’t barely see half her face due the heavy fringe. In actuality, her name is Estela, and she’s a 22-year-old mommy from the Bronx. Now if Tiffany’s story got you teary-eyed, this girl’s will leave you devastated. Estela got married at 18, and planned her baby with the guy she thought was her loving husband—that is, until he kicked Estela and their daughter out of the house, leaving them homeless and living out of shelters. I’d like to personally beat her husband my own damn self. “I have my daughter to win this for,” Estela says, firmly. But will the judges even give her a fighting chance?
Everyone takes some time out from auditions to blow off some steam and celebrate the birthdays of a couple of the girls—whose names they don’t even bother mentioning, so I think it’s clear they didn’t make Final 14, but could they have at least sprung to have them written on the cake, you chintzy bastards? Talk about getting your dander up, from out of nowhere, Lady Kat has a shiznit fit. Over what? I have no idea, as her angry rant never once verges anywhere near coherence. All I know is she’s got Sarah calling her a “crazy freak” and saying, “She needs to stay the [bleep] away from me, because I will slap her.” Being from Baltimore, Sarah’s probably not lying either. Lady Kat just keeps rambling like a drunk, enraged bum (perhaps it’s Rebecca she should watch out for, I don’t like the way she’s holding her dessert fork).
All the while, one person is watching from the sidelines in amazement. “Damn,” Tiffany says to herself, in the second biggest punchline of the episode, “That’s the way I used to act?” Seeing a lot of her old, belligerent self in Lady Kat, Tiffany takes it upon herself to help defuse the ticking time bomb of rage within the Kat (REOWR).
The next day, they take the girls to Griffith Park, odd choice for an outing en plein air when you’ve got miles of golden beach, but perhaps the producers wanted to get a little cruising in—I wouldn’t be surprised to see Jay fall out of the bushes myself, if you know what I’m saying, mmhmm [rolls neck, snaps fingers]. There is, incidentally, a strange, angry swarm of bees that keeps troubling the girls throughout the day—a canny metaphor for the girls in competition (with Tyra as the queen, no doubt). I only hope these aren’t the Africanized Killer variety.
You can almost see Tiffany starting to get pissed enough to throw a beatdown on some bees, but she quickly turns her Histrionics Meter down to a 2, and takes Lady Kat aside for a heart-to-heart. “I wanna tell you be cool, don’t let nobody mess with your opportunity,” a very mature-sounding Tiffany tells the frisky feline reincarnation, explaining that she was once like her, and all the rage wasn’t worth losing out on big opportunities like ANTM. Lady Kat agrees to chill out, and it’s one, big happy afterschool special until, a little while later, still pestered by bees, Tiffany cusses out the air while Lady Kat starts swinging at the air with a bag.
Mary, Mary, Quite Contrary
Back to the auditions: Mary reappears before Tyra and crew. Since last time, she was blasted for not showing enough emotion, this time she plans to not hold back. When asked how she felt about not making it last time, she says, with tears in her eyes, “I felt like something had been just ripped out…it was horrible.” She is followed by her plus-size competition, a plucky blonde named Rachel, who is nothing if not enthusiastic; she says “as long as it doesn’t show nipple” she’ll do anything to make it in the biz. “My grandparents are dead, I have no one to disgrace,” she says, in the third biggest punchline of the episode.
Next, we meet Alexandria from Ft. Collins, CO. She confesses to having a speech impediment that put her on “the short bus” to school (I have no idea what this means, if someone would like to explain this to me). Tyra says “a lot of actors, models [and] musicians rode the short bus to school…No big deal.” Neither is Alexandria, apparently, as we never see her again. Next up is leathery Christina from Tallahassee, FL, who looks 24 going on 44 due to the aging effects of the sun. Even Tyra makes a crack about her tanning, remarking that “You look like my cousin, looking a little negro over there.” A pan over Christina in her knickers reveals an egregious bikini tan line. This girl best watch herself before her face becomes a catcher’s mitt, and her body a patchwork quilt.
Next in the judging room is 25-year-old Brita (no relation to the water filter, except perhaps in that she is a tall, cool drink of water), whom we learn is of Latvian descent. Tyra asks where that is, and when she says “next to Lithuania” millions of students from the American public school system (including Tyra and, okay, myself) go completely and utterly blank. We learn Brita grew up wealthy but is now a waitress (when her dad broke his back, Brita quickly learned how to take care of herself) and now she’s here to pursue her dream. With her vavavoom voluptuousness and icy blonde beauty in a very retro Bridgette Bardot/Britt Ekland vein, Brita’s dreams just might be realized.
Noelle (20, Reno, NV) is another young mother—Babies having babies! Two words, people: BIRTH CONTROL. (Thanks, Bush Administration, for misinforming young people in Sex (Mis)Education classes around the country.) Anyway, Noelle considers her son to be a “miracle baby” since she has endometriosis and isn’t even supposed to be able to have children. All I can say is, the real miracle around here is how Noelle can have a kid and still have that miraculous body!
Finally, the judges decide to have a “Lingerie Walk-Off” to see how the girls serve it in direct comparison to one another. It’s basically a stampede of broads in their underwear, the kind of thing straight men only dream of. Back in their rooms at the end of the day, it’s a “Cry-off” as the girls stress out over who will make it to the semi-semi-finals tomorrow.
The First Cut is the—Yeah Yeah We Know
Jay and J. show up in the morning to cut the girls from 35 to 20. In a cowardly and boneheaded attempt at suspense, instead of allowing the girls the dignity of having their names announced, the producers have decided to lay out 20 portfolios with the pictures of 20 semi-semi-demi-finalists within. This requires the girls to mill around like fools, checking to see if their picture is in a book…or not. Jay and J. count down, then there is a mad dash to the books.
Some girls are left screaming and crying for joy (such as Tiffany and Estela), while others are just left…crying. Many of them much prettier than, say…oh…MICHELLE or BRANDY. Mary is lured into a false sense of security, since no other plus-size girls were picked for her to compete with. She is a shoo-in for the Final 14, right? Right?!! Stop messing with our emotions, ANTM!!!
Alexandria, the cute “short bus girl” weeps over not being selected, and is promptly hushed by the ever-so-tactful Lady Kat to “Stop crying. Crying is for losers.” Lady Kat then performs a Kitty Victory Dance that makes me so wish a 1000 lb. anvil would randomly fall from the sky to crush her.
John Wilkes Photo Booth
The girls 1st assignment, they learn, will be to take a strip of pictures of themselves in one of those automatic photo booths they have at malls and carnivals. Cute idea, and more challenging than it sounds—when’s the last time you had an attractive picture of yourself taken in one of those things? One bad picture could kill the last chance a girl might have at the Final 14. The girls go in and do their thang with various levels of success, from Naima who works hard to make her poses “dynamic”, to Tiffany, who keeps getting caught by the camera with her mouth open in a sort of gaping yawn.
Tyra and the 2 J. Crew get together to scrutinize the pics in order to determine the Final 14. That’s right, Mathletes, that means 6 girls gotta go. Jay finds Keenyah “flat” and Tyra defends her by saying not everyone has to be “crazy”. “I’m not crazy,” Tyra offers; J. & Jay just laugh. We are talking personalities here, and not chest sizes, right? J. finds Tatiana “rough around the edges” but Tyra thinks “any girl that can look this fierce in a photo booth is worth taking a second look at.” Jay likes the blank canvas that is Kahlen’s inexperience, explaining that therein lies the potential to mold her into something special. Lluvy’s “giraffe lashes” get big ups from J. and Ty, though Jay finds her “pear-shaped.” Jay wants to take a pass on Noelle, but Tyra disagrees, believing Noelle has a “brightness” that “pops”. Brittany is undeniably a young Janice D. Naima has edgy appeal, but J. wonders of they can “take it farther”.
Next up for consideration is Michelle. “You know how I feel about no-neck monsters,” J. says with a shudder. Amen to that, and I see someone’s been reading his Tennessee Williams. Brandy’s weave proves controversial; Jay is not a fan of the clown helmet, but Tyra waggles her finger vociferously and trills, “I like Brandy’s hair, in fact, she is fierce.” I’m starting to wonder if perhaps the reason Tyra cannot be separated from her red weave is that it is a parasite alien that controls her behavior, and now Tyra’s weave and Brandy’s weave are part of a hirsute conspiracy to not only win America’s Next Top Model, but also dominate this pathetic little planet, you stupid little earthlings, muah hahahaha!!!
Jay feels Brita is right on time to hitch a ride on the new trend of glamour in fashion; J. loves Sarah’s face; Estela wins sympathy points for her story, “but that’s not enough reason to bring someone into the house,” according to Jay, though J. feels there’s potential in her walk. The judges all agree that Rebecca is “a little actress-looking” which might work against her in modeling. J. loves Lady Kat, but Jay worries she will only be able to “give one thing”—and on that, the judges simultaneously go “REOWR!” In contrast, Jay feels that Tiffany has something they can “build on and make more versatile.” They love Mary, but J. feels it’s unfair to put one girl in to compete with other girls who are a completely different category. Might have wanted to think about this BEFORE accepting plus-size applications again, guys!
First Cut Might Be the Deepest, Doesn’t Mean the Second Doesn’t Hurt Like Hell
Tyra assembles the girls outside to announce the Final 14, and speaking of plus-sized, Tyra’s boobies are looking extra plus-sized tonight. Tyra reminds them that thousands of girls applied for this cycle, so simply making it to the 20 is proof they’re “extra special.” But extra special doesn’t put you in the running for America’s Next Top Model. Tyra calls out the names: Rebecca, Christina, Keenyah, Brita, Naima, Noelle, Michelle (!!!), Sarah, Brandy. At this point, the remainder of the girls is starting to look anxious and sickly. When Brittany is called, she explodes in relief, and is followed by Kahlen, Tatiana, and Lluvy, leaving seven girls in abject terror over whose name will be called last. That final, lucky girl is…Tiffany, who falls to the ground in gratitude and disbelief.
The remainder of the girls are either weeping or clutching at themselves like inhabitants of an insane asylum. Tyra doles out consolation hugs, most notably to a visibly crushed Mary. “My heart is broken, Tyra,” Mary says, sobbing on TyTy’s shoulder. So is MINE, Mary, so is mine! Estela, the once homeless mother, leaves on a classy note, saying that although this was meant to be an opportunity for positive life change for her and her daughter, “regardless of the fact, we will come out on top. I wish all the ladies luck.” I hope this makes the judges feel extra guilty over having not chosen her.
Meanwhile, the fortunate final fourteen rejoice. We will get to know them better in the weeks to come. Thanks a lot for joining in, and hope to see you next week when Janice reveals her nightstick, Nigel dons a sexy uniform, and Tyra gets pizzy. All that and makeovers, what more could you want for the low, low price of free?
In a past life, I believe I was a 6’ Brazilian feline drag queen with a huge red mohawk. REOWR, indeed! Send your tales of reincarnation to: snowflakegirl@fansofrealitytv. com