ANTM4 Ep. 2 Recap: The Bitchy McBitcherson Who Bitched Bitchily About Her Bugly 'Do
As I sit down to write my recap in my official Shandi t-shirt (yes, I really have one, and yes, I’m really wearing it), I wonder to myself, “Self, perhaps there are some things in this world you are just not meant to understand.” Like, for example, quantum physics; or if God is omnipotent/omnipresent/omni-benevolent, why do catastrophic tragedies persist; or why is it not possible to put on mascara without leaving your mouth open? Yes, some things are just beyond human comprehension, and sometimes Tyra, like God, acts in mysterious ways. In turn, mere mortals such as us are not to question, but simply, and I mean this in the most cosmic sense possible, to get the damn haircut and shut the hell up.
Book ‘Em, Danilo
The show begins with a big ol’ fake-out. A view of brownstone-lined streets, subway signs, the girls walking up from an underground station, Mr. Jay walking out in an “I Heart NY” t-shirt and a kilt—oh, geez, I’m confused by his mixed signals, maybe they’re in Scotland? Of course we’re all expecting America’s Next Top Model to begin in New Yawk, after all, isn’t that the fashion capitol of the nation? But wait! Jay welcomes the girl to the Final 14, then tells them, “Forget about Broadway, forget about the subway, ‘cuz what?” And on that note, he rips open his t-shirt to reveal—cosmetic pectoral implants? Don’t interrupt me (I’m not saying you’re wrong, I’m just saying there’s more). Underneath his tight “I Heart NY” tee is an even tighter “I Heart LA” tee.
Oh ho, you tricky little monkeys, we’re not in New York at all, but at the New York City Backlot at Paramount Studios in Los Angeles! Well, it was obvious to me it was a backlot and not a real New York City street, since there was no enraged drunk bum drowning in his own Cisco-infused puke (I’d watch my back around Rebecca, Mr. Enraged Drunk Bum). The girls are surprised but excited to learn their new home will be Los Angeleez, and are star-struck as they take a tour of the backlot. Why, who knows what celebs they might meet, as a matter of fact, it appears there is a production going on. Yellow crime scene tape and NYPD cop car surround a man in a cop uniform with cute buns who is ostensibly shooting photos of a chalk victim outline on the ground.
Out of the cop car, bursts World’s First Supermodel™ Janice Dickinson, transmitting an appealing semi-butch dom allure in her own police uniform and nightstick, who calls out, “Fashion Police!” We learn that sexy bun cop is none other than London-born, Yellow Feverish, former-model, now world-renowned shutterbug Nigel Barker. Also joining them is the faaabulous stylist Nolé Marin, whom I love but who unfortunately just looks like a security guard from the local strip mall in his uniform. Guess the cop outfit doesn’t quite sexify everyone who puts it on. The ANTM judges play out a little skit in which Janice asks, “Where are the aliens?” and Nigel responds, “I don’t know, but when I find them, I’m going to shoot them.” Is that an Emmy I smell? (Oh I’m sorry, perhaps I just stepped in something on the way home…)
So the concept for the first official shoot this cycle? “Aliens taking over Manhattan.” Cops & martians…Illegal Aliens, get it? Huh? Get it? It’s like a visual pun or a premise for a really stupid New Yorker comic. Jay takes them back to wardrobe, where we see another familiar face, master hair stylist Danilo (sans Dali ‘stache, we will miss you!). As everyone gets prepped, the judges chat with the girls and offer their advice. Janice talks about being courteous and on-time; Nolé says they must impress the Empress (his faaabulous little Pommy Minnie, whom we all know and love). Nolé then asks Brita how old she is, and laughing nervously, she asks him to guess. He guesses 17-18, and she reveals she’s 25. Sweet fancy Methuselah! Nolé acts more like she said she was 52, because he exclaims, “What’s your pearl cream at night, I love it!” Ancient Latvian secret, Nolé! Brita seems a little insecure about her age, saying most people she knows are quitting around this time of their lives (who are these people hanging up their hats just when they hit the age when you can rent a car?), but she will still pursue her dream no matter what. Okay, whatever you say, Whistler’s Mother!
The first girl up is Kahlen, looking like she could be an assassin from David Mack’s Kabuki as she poses in front of cop car, who appears to be a natural. “She totally doesn’t realize how great she is,” Jay marvels. Back in makeup, Janice asks Rebecca where she’s from, and when Rebecca answers, “Minnesota,” Janice mentions, nonplussed, “I was in rehab there once.” Rebecca then hops on the hood and her “Twiggy-esque” moves impress Nigel. Keenyah gets on the ground and manages to look elegant despite being made to look like tore up Mary Jane Girl. Lluvy just looks like unfortunate cross between Olive Oyl and Queen Amidala; Jay is concerned that she only has one facial expression.
Okay, here’s when I start to realize how absurd this is. Who thought to themselves: let’s dress them up like backup dancers from an old Prince video and set them up in front of a cop car in a backlot made to look like New York, even if we’re in L.A. What’s next? Oh let’s fly the girls out to Tahiti, dress them like poultry then blow fake snow around and pretend it’s Iceland. Why, Tyra? Why?
Anyway, back to the girls. Brittany, sexy in a Bladerunner-y way, provides comic relief by repeatedly sliding down the hood of the car due to “sweaty knees.” Nigel believes Michelle has an “unusual side” (the one with her penis?) and can be “very androgynous-looking.” I still don’t get this one. Why, Tyra? Why? Tatiana also makes quite an impression on Nigel, who remarks that she has “a lot of moves” which photographers find very inspiring. Naima is jazzed about the shoot because she is a Trekkie, and her great performance earns praise from Jay—the even lucky girl gets swooped up from the hood of the car by the strong arms of Nigel himself.
Meanwhile, someone’s getting awfully huffy behind the scenes. With a toxic ‘tude to match her toxic red Q-tip head, Brandy, is already pulling a primadonna: slumping in her chair, sighing, acting exasperated, complaining of being tired. Nolé asks her what the dealio; Brandy oh-so-professionally replies, “Cuz y’all takin’ long.” Nolé is appalled at her “really bad attitude,” observing that this is only her first shoot and “she should have been upbeat.” Everyone notices Brandy’s displeasure; as she stomps grudgingly onto the set as if marching to her execution, Nigel asks her what the problem is and she pissily snaps, “Cuz I was waitin’ so long…and I was getting’ sleepy.” Nigel seems taken aback, “She came on the set in a big mood, wouldn’t look at me, wouldn’t smile. That’s not gonna cut it.” If this is her work ethic and attitude toward authority, she couldn’t get hired to sling chicken at a KFC. What galls me is she isn’t even the last girl of the day, and she has the nerve to rate herself “11” on a scale of 1-10, “because I think I did really good.” So, it also appears she would not be suitable in professions involving any sort of math or proper grammar. Scoot over on that sidewalk and make some room for Brandy, Enraged Drunk Bum!
Noelle is next and despite a rough start, gives her best shot motivated by thoughts of her kid at home. Sarah gets on the hood of the car as the sun goes down, and is told to “suck in that gut” but then earns props from Jay and Nolé for “workin’ it out.” “She’s been studying me,” Nolé cracks; Jay calls, “Go Nefertiti.” Jay tells her she was the easiest to work with all day. Nolé worries that Brita’s body is “a little thick”—now I love Nolé, so I’m not even going to mention the irony of someone of his physique making such a remark. (Oops, I just did!) Brita gets kicked to the curb (symbolic?), made to pose lying down, half on the sidewalk, half on the street, with her thick ol’ stems up in the air. She is concerned about her short skirt giving up the Latvian family jewels; Nigel goes in and re-adjusts her skirt (oh my!) and says she needs to learn to relax (I think I watched a porno that started like this). Nolé murmurs that she looks “like a side of beef.” Yes, Darling, we know what you want to order for dinner tonight, but what do you think of Brita? Jay winces at Brita’s performance.
In stark contrast to bodacious Brita, spindly Christina is put in a similar pose, but manages to rock it in a way Brita couldn’t. Nigel calls her “a lovely addition.” And talk about stark contrasts, compare Brandy’s bad attitude to the last alien shoot of the day with the girl with anger management issues last year: Tiffany strides in saying “my life has changed, I know I have to put my best foot forward.” Okay, so she stumbles a lot in her heels, which concerns me, but I’m impressed with how she continues to strive. “Very ghetto alien,” Nolé scoffs. Jay’s worried he might be sympathizing more with her life story than objectively evaluating her performance. Eek, perhaps that’s what I’m doing too, but this is reality tv, objectivity doesn’t exist here: I’m still giving her high marks for effort.
Welcome To The Dollhouse
Jay ends the day by telling everyone the day was “interesting”—not the most encouraging word to hear after a first date, to describe a newborn baby, OR in relation to your first photo shoot, but hey it could be worse. The girls scream at the mention of TyraMail—okay, this cycle is waaay too excitable when they are apoplectic over not even Tyra, but just her mail—which says they will be going to “LA’s finest spot” after a “ride into pure luxury.” So naturally the girls are expecting to go somewhere chi-chi-poo-poo, like Bel Air or Bev Hills, and this being reality tv of course the producers are going to dream up yet another annoying fake-out. They drive through what they would like us to believe is an unsavory neighborhood; someone even yells, “What are we doing in the ghetto?” Ominous music plays, the cars stop, and from the shadows emerge a band of scruffy, biker-looking folks. Brandy wonders who these people are, and is so scared, her “heart dropped.”
Oh come on, first of all, with all the liability problems, do you really think ANTM producers would drop you off in some obscure circle of hell where cannibalistic Rob Zombie look-alikes will tear you from limb to limb on camera? [SFG lightbulb moment: must call agent and start pre-production on this premise ASAP!] Second of all, I’ve lived in LA for nearly half my life, and everyone knows that how good you look is often indirectly proportional to the amount of money and power you have. It says, Hey, I can afford to look this crappy. Here, the enraged drunk bum you see on Sunset Blvd. might actually be the hottest new actor in town simply leaving a club. The hot, slickly dressed hunk at the club is actually the guy who cleans the toilets at Canter’s. Which is why I don’t get why Tyra chose to start this cycle here instead of NY. Why, Tyra? Why?
So of course they’re not in hell, but the Fashion District, and these scaaary, rough & tumble folks are not cannibalistic redneck bikers, but the designers and proprietors of Serious Clothing, whose headquarters are where the girls have been plopped. After perusing the cute clothes in the showroom, Magnus, the main man, announces one more surprise: downstairs from the showroom is a big metal door that leads them to…a little sweatshop where people of color are sewing buttons on skirts for 34 cents an hour! Sorry, not that door, heh heh, but this one which leads to…their new home in Los Angeleez!!!
Ah, the screaming begins anew…Tell me, Clarice, have your models stopped screaming? The new digs have rooms after named after areas of Los Angeles, each one filled with its own appropriate furniture and decor…the exercise room is cleverly called Muscle Beach, for example, the common area is Sunset. Of course there are the requisite portraits of Tyra all over (for all I know, there’s Tyra toilet paper in there too), but there is also fun new wall art featuring quotes from past ANTMers (e.g. “This is not a sorority, this is a modeling competition,” and “This is the walk that will make me famous.”). Brittany and Brita claim beds in Modelwood, which looks fun, flirty and fifties; Naima sets up in the posh Bel Air; then oralé pues, Tiffany plops into bed in the East LA room with cool Chicano-centric paraphernalia, where Michelle comes in for a cuddle. Awww, it’s kind of cute, actually; perhaps another Pink Positive in the making?
Tyra comes in and, you guessed it, the girls scream. She explains why Los Angeles this time: “I felt it was important to show you guys a different part of the fashion world. This is the place where I got started.” she says, meaning, “I am working on my talk show here and wanted to be close to home so I can eat at my mom’s house, which is why right now my boobs are even 40% larger than normal.” Noelle is amazed that Tyra’s “got a brain, who would have thought?” Is this a compliment? It’s just not clear.
The next day, the girls arise for their morning ablutions. Brandy is upset that the hairstylist teased up her fro, adding, “I look like a fool right now.” Right now?!! As if she didn’t look like insane, clown junky already? Keenyah just continues brushing her teeth and looks as if she is silently praying to herself for this crazy astro-puff to stop talking to her. Keenyah states, “I don’t think Brandy is as open as I am. You can shave my head bald, you can do whatever you want. You gotta be easy to work with.” Well said, Keenyah! And yet why do I get this ominous feeling that those words will bite you in the booty…oh editors, stop being so obvious! Meanwhile, Brandy will NOT shut the EFF up!
Miss J. comes in during their morning workout in a “Please Don’t Feed the Models” t-shirt and, uh oh, breaks out the measuring tape! Brita starts to become very visibly nervous, and she confesses that she gained weight recently. The fun part: Kahlen is 114 lbs/5’8”; Miss J. says Keenyah is “shaped like a boy, minus the breasts”; he wraps his tape around Michelle’s GINORMOUS nether region and proclaims, “Child, she has a future behind her”; Christina is 118/5’10”; Brandy, 122/5’9”; Lluvy, 123/5’8”; Noelle, 124/5’7”; Rebecca, 116/5’10”; Tatiana, 123/5’7”; Tiffany 116/5’10”; and Brita is 138 lbs at 5’8.5” which is perfectly fine in real life, but in the bizarro world of fashion is whopping and whale-like. Okay, I’ve got some problems, even with unrealistic body image aside—did everyone lie on their applications? Otherwise, why is everyone’s height different from what ANTM originally released? Weight fluctuates yes, but did Noelle get in an accident that shaved an inch of the bottom of her feet? Also, would it kill ANTM to provide a little consistency? Why did we get some girls’ actual height and weight, but not all? Rebecca says something quite nice, that she hopes Brita’s weigh-in “doesn’t make her feel self-conscious, because she’s beautiful.” And that Brita is, with the voluptuous sexiness of a Fellini heroine.
Extreme Makeover: Homely Edition
TyraMail arrives that says someone will get “cut” tomorrow. Of course, everyone worries that there will be an elimination, and of course again it’s another cheap reality tv fake-out. Such needless suffering…Why Tyra, Why? Instead, after thoroughly freaking out all the girls, and making us all bite our nails over the commercial break, Tyra meets the girls the next day at Privé Salon where they learn they’ll all get cut. Haw haw haw [slaps knee]. Get it? Cut? At the salon? Their hair? Makeovers? [slaps face of TyraMail author]
Makeovers, always good for drama. Tyra tells them what’s in store: Sarah’s going Peter Pan (watch out for Michael Jackson with that haircut, girlfriend); Michelle is going “ice blonde”; curly Noelle is getting a sleek, straight blow-out; Tatiana is getting the rich, dark Paulina; Tiffany will get the glamour girl Godiva; Kahlen is getting a Carmen; Brittany’s getting a fringe; Christina is going deeper, darker “girl-of-the-moment”; Rebecca is getting “long and luscious”; Brita will have “Princess Bride” waves; Lluvy’s going red; Keenyah’s getting an assymetrical Vidal Sassoon; Naima will be honey blonde. They leave Brandy for last, and in unison, Tyra, Jay and J. declare that she is [shake your index finger] “Fiiieeeerce!” and therefore, “We ain’t doin’ nothin’ to you!” Is this a good thing? It’s just not clear.
What is clear is Brandy doesn’t think this is a good thing AT ALL. “I’m pissed off…I wanted a drastic change so bad,” Brandy declares. And who could blame the Flaming Hot shower poof? The blondes, meanwhile, have started blonding—I mean, bonding. Naima says, “Now I have excuse to be stupid.” “I’m gonna find out if blondes have more fun,” Michelle says laughing. I still think she looks like a man, baby, but her good-natured attitude is starting to endear her to me. Which is why I am VERY concerned about this decision to go blonde, when her skin tone and coloring just do not seem like a good match for such a drastic color. Why, Tyra? Why? Were you smoking crack when you were sitting there deciding on makeovers?
Brandy continues to be completely insufferable. She moans loudly about how her “feelings are being hurt.” Miss J. attempts to console her, and takes a peek at her hair, which Brandy complains is getting dreaded up. I, quite frankly, can’t tell much of a difference from when we first saw her, but whatever. Tyra goes in for an inspection, and warmly says they will take the weave out, but “we’re gonna make you really short, but really bright still.” Brandy obnoxiously hollers to everyone that now they can’t tease her anymore because now the flamin’ fro is coming off (fair enough, but can we put a ball gag in her mouth?). Change is a comin’ so surely she’ll be happy now, right?
The first completed makeover is Kahlen’s, and her new weave does much to take her look from small town stoner to big city glamour puss. Immediately after makeovers, the girls are shuttled over to a photographer who will take a post-makeover topless pic (sans nipple, bien sur, à la Lee Jeans). Kahlen talks about being nervous, though you wouldn’t know from the gorgeous picture that she took. Tatiana’s makeover is also a winner, with the rich brown enhancing her features; and her topless pic is a beaut. Christina, who still kind of scares the crap out of me for some reason, also benefits from being brunette; she tones down her psycho-eyes in her topless shot, and manages to look softer and more appealing.
Brita expresses relief that they “didn’t do a crazy makeover” on her, as she is satisfied with her current look. She’s happy as pie in her romantic ringlets, and her photo comes out quite nice. ANTM conspiracy theorists, however, might say it does not bode well, as often the girls with the least change are also the girls first to go, so if that holds true, the girls most at risk for this week are Brita and Brandy. So, dear friends, if ever you are on ANTM, beware the makeunder—does it mean they love you just the way you are? Or are the producers just being cheap because they know you’ll be gone soon?
Keenyah, meanwhile, is taking her weave “like a pro,” and yes, she seems patient and pleasant in her chair as the stylist braids the bejeezus out of it (I’ve had my own hair braided like that before, and it truly can be uncomfortable). Not so patient and pleasant is Brandy who is STILL BITCHING over her makeover. Now she’s unhappy with being “baldheaded” since they cut off the fro, which is what she wanted. Noelle tries to console her by saying she still looks good, but to no avail. Then Noelle is off with her new, straight ‘do to take her shot, which to me makes her look like a scary child prostitute, and that CK look is so last century.
Michelle is getting every inch of brunette bleached out of her head (and I’ve also had my own hair bleached out like that before, and it truly can be uncomfortable as well) and though they warned her about the burn, she is shaking like a leaf as they rinse the stuff out. “She’s feeling the pain of being a bleached blonde,” Jay, no stranger to the peroxide, says, “It is excruciating.” To her credit, Michelle never says one negative word; Tiffany commends her stoicism by saying, “She won’t complain. I love that about her, that’s beautiful.”
Sarah’s got no complaints; she rocks her short Peter Pan, and manages to take a decent pic that doesn’t make her look like a dude. Naima looks so cute! They kept the Mohican, but spiced it up a warm blonde that suits her golden skintone, and she takes an adorable photo that makes her look some proud, exotic bird. Rebecca goes from Sunnybrook Farm to Sunset Boulevard with a fantastic, full new head of hair that she says she’ll “keep forever.” If that weave is not made of biodegradable materials, girl, you may be able to!
Just when I’m starting to warm up to Michelle’s personality, Tyra throws a bucket of shocking, ice-cold what-the-hell onto me. Michelle is turned a horrific, incredibly fake-looking blonde that I just do not understand. I guess she likes it though, because she says she feels more confident. Her picture looks like Ken snuck into Barbie’s closet and tried on one of her wigs.
Back in the salon there is some fuss going on over Keenyah’s hair. Jay is instructing the stylist on how to do the asymmetrical bob, and Keenyah’s eyes are as wide as saucers, and she does confess she hadn’t expected the bob to be that blunt, but she doesn’t appear to be throwing a Brandy-type fit or anything. Still, the menacing drama music creeps in, and spooky close-ups indicate that the producers are choosing to make this a big deal, as Jay balls her out even though she says she’ll comply, as “I have no choice but to do what you say.” They have one of those maddening conversations that I’ve had with my husband, where I say, “I’m fine with it,” and he says, “But you’re not,” and a whole hubbub escalates over nothing. Haha, Sweetie, just kidding if you’re reading this. Love you! You’re the greatest and sexiest guy in the world! [blows kiss] [checks to make sure he’s out of room] Really, it’s just like that.
Lluvy’s new hair looks pretty but her picture, unfortunately, just looks blah and expressionless. Brittany’s makeover seems to freshen her look. “I’m hot, hello!” she exclaims. Her topless shot comes off as more innocent and younger than I’d expect from her, and it’s good, but not great. Tiffany is so jazzed about her new, super-long, super-sleek Morticia locks, she gives off the most radiant smile I’ve seen on her yet. Stank ho better not pour beer on this weave! She does look much more chic, and even her teddy bear got a makeover—with what appears to be the remains of Brandy’s old fro!
Speaking of Brandy, she is STILL on Bitch-O-Matic™, going on and on about terrible she looks, how the eyebrows don’t match her new red color, how she can’t go back to her boyfriend now, blah blah blah, bitch bitch bitch bitch. I have never heard such bitching in all my life. “Her attitude just pissed me off,” Jay says, seconding my emotion, however, he lumps Brandy in with Keenyah, which I don’t understand, as Keenyah is sitting quietly and appears to be warming up to her new bob, which looks lovely. “Today the drama was so not intended,” Keenyah says, “I’m the type of person that never, ever complains,” and I’ll take her word for it.
At the end of the day, Tyra comes in, all snippity, and lectures all the girls on how “being a top model is all about accepting change.” Tyra adds, “I want to commend 12 of you for being open, but there are two of you, and you know who you are, that pissed me off and next time I see you guys will be at judging, and this will definitely affect that.” Will it really Tyra? And I don’t know what I missed here, but why would you put Keenyah in the same category as Brandy, when all she did was express slight reservation, while Brandy was simply an impudent bitch? Why, Tyra? Why?
Brita: Filtered Out
TyraMail tolls a death knoll for one of the Final 14. Keenyah is convinced the cut will be between her and Brandy. Brandy is crying, and Tiffany, official anger management counselor of ANTM4, gives her this advice: “You gotta change your attitude, ‘cuz your attitude stinks.” Tyra, if Tiffany gets eliminated, may I suggest you give her a job co-hosting your talk show? She could be like Dr. Phil, without the stupid moustache.
Judging is preceded by an alien shot of Tyra that seems put in expressly to demonstrate, Look, Bitches, I can rock me a bald head, so don’t give me no lip when I cut your naps off! Tyra, who has even given her own beloved Big Red (as I have named her favorite head of hair) a makeover of its own (subtler, shorter, softer) greets the girls in the judging room where she waits with the panel (Janice, Nigel, Nolé) to break somebody’s heart. But first, let’s learn what they will not win, shall we? This cycle’s prize is virtually same as last cycle’s prize, but still, let’s all act surprised: A contract with Ford models! A spread in Elle shot by—sing it with me, folks—Gilles Bensimon! A $100,000 contract with Cover Girl!
Individual eval time, based on the alien shots: Naima’s up first, and the judges believe, as Janice says, that she “really pulled it off.” The judges are not pleased that Noelle wasted her sleek blow-out and went back to curly, but her pictures makes up for her makeover mutiny. Christina’s picture scares the poop out of me, but Nigel thinks she has “beautiful” not “psycho-killer laser beam” eyes. Michelle gets props from Tyra for taking the pain of her bleach job like a man—okay, not those words exactly but, you know, she didn’t complain; Nolé likes the body on her pic, but the face. Nigel loved that Tatiana had the most “moves” of all the girls. Brita’s picture is described as “worried” and “old”-looking; Janice points out that in person Brita is smokin’ hot, in the picture she is smokin’ not.
The judges all seem to love Sarah’s “hot shot.” Kahlen’s pic gets high marks, but not her in-person appearance. Nolé compares Brittany to a “panther” but Nigel worries that she tendency to make pictures look “too sexy” [cue Right Said Fred!] and she should tone it down. Keenyah steps up, and that damn drama music plays while the panel busts her cajones over letting her bob get curly and questioning Tyra, Jay, and J.’s judgement at the salon. Keenyah apologizes for the “biggest mistake of my life” and her regal alien queen shot wins over the judges and, perhaps, saves her butt from elimination this week.
Lluvy is seemed a “sleepy alien” who is “not even close to a growl” according to Janice. Tiffany’s new long locks have boosted the impression she makes in person, and her profile portrait is “gorgeous,” however Nigel notes they had to work her into that position, because most of the time she looked “bewildered.” Tyra asks her how it feels to be a glamour girl now, and Tiffany gets choked up; Tyra feels adversity might “make us better artists, because that’s something we can pull from. That’s beautiful.” Okay, Miss Talk Show Host! Rebecca’s Twiggy alien is universally loved.
Finally, Brandy. She steps up and tries to revise history by saying, all sunshine and rainbows, “When you said you were going to cut it all off, it was like a release.” Tyra’s not stupid, “Oh you just leaving off the other part just like a little girl in front of her mama.” I ask you, you think Heidi Klum could clock someone’s T like this? I don’t think so! She reads Brandy the riot act, even though Brandy claims she never once said she didn’t like it. Whaaat?!! Nigel brings up how she was the only girl to come on set and have the audacity to complain about being kept waiting so long, which sends Janice into a crazed fit of incredulous laughter. Her picture is good, but Nigel says “it wasn’t fun to have you around.” Surely this means they won’t be keeping her around, right? Right?
The judges deliberate. Janice says Brittany stays, and when Tyra asks if it’s because she looks just like her, Janice says, “I don’t have hands the size of baseball mitts!” Nolé cracks that at the alien shoot,Tiffany “jumped in and out of that [police] car and looked like she’s seen those red lights before.” Oh no he didn’t! The panel dies laughing, but they seem to like her. Sarah’s face is “strong”; Naima is “exquisite”; Lluvy, or “SUV” as Janice dubs her, is cute in person but “looks like a man” in her photo. The judges are still over Keenyah’s ass for her alleged misbehavior at the makeover—what did we not see, editors?!! Christina is well-liked but Nigel feels she has “zero sex appeal”—ouch! Nigel feels Brandy has potential, but her attitude, “who wants her around”? Brita is “very sexy girl in person” but too old and too fat for the panel’s taste; Kahlen “worked” her photo, but is “drab” in person; Rebecca “moves like girls working in magazines already”; Nigel thinks Tatiana’s face looks smooshed; Noelle is “pretty” but they don’t like that she changed her hair; and Michelle/Michael (as Nolé baptizes her) “borderlines looking like someone in drag.”
Tyra calls the girls back in to hand out the thirteen remaining pictures. They go to (in order): Tiffany, Naima, Rebecca, Kahlen, Christina, Michelle, Noelle, Sarah, Tatiana, Brittany, and Lluvy. Brita looks shocked as shiznit when the next name Tyra calls out is Keenyah, and she tearfully tells Tyra she learned her lesson. So it’s down to Brita and Brandy, and Tyra tells Brita that although she wows everyone in person, based on her (one) photo, “some of the judges don’t want to see you anymore.” Huh? Tyra then addresses Brandy, saying she has high-fashion potential, but her “attitude isn’t something that judges want to be around.” Tyra adds, “a lot of the judges behind me, don’t want to see you either.” This, I understand.
In the end, the final picture is handed back to Brandy. Brandy! Why, Tyra? Why?!! Brita gulps, but it’s Brandy who cries, promising to work on her attitude. Brita is “pissed off” and “regretting this experience.” Can anybody blame her? She packs up and leaves, saying, “I blew it,” which is a little harder on herself than I would think necessary. And me? I am just so confused, I’ve got nothing else to say.
Why not email me at snowflakegirl@fansofrealitytv. com? Why?