MAKEOVERS!!!!

This is the first show of the season where I have actually seen the new intro, and I have to admit, Trya in Disco/Cabaret drag with the whip? Scary. Those bitches better listen when Mistress TyTy talks. Yeesh.

Open on the loft and various confessionalizings, notably, Dominique-inique-inique, who is very, very clear on the concept that she is totally high-fashion glamorous, dammit. And a diva. A high-fashion diva. And very, very clearly delusional. I want what she’s smokin’ and I want the mirror that’s lying to her about being the fairest of them all.

The doorbell rings and there is infernal squealing inside the loft. Outside the loft are a slew of giant, white, quilted handbags full of Applebottom swag. The hamsters are delighted with free stuff and all but on their new jeans, making sure to fulfill the contractual obligations of ANTM by showing off the logos and explaining why the jeans are called apple bottoms by bending over and sticking their asses out at the cameras. Cha-ching! Lauren can’t figure out how to put on the spike-heeled pumps. Allison and Fatima (of course) get into it with each other over the size of their asses. Fatima tells Allison that Allison’s is bigger, and that launches Allison into a frenzy of tape measuring, self-loathing, finger-sticking and revelations of prior eating disorders. She is particularly peeved at Fatima over triggering her body image issues. Because it is a given that if you are a working model, you will have bulimia or anorexia or some other eating disorder, and Allison knows that, because she’s a working model, with extensive experience in the Far East. And Fatima should be sensitive to people’s issues. Can’t argue with that, but Fatima is only sensitive to Fatima’s issues, or haven’t you been paying attention?

The LimoCab comes and takes the hamsters to the next challenge/shoot. Somewhere in New York City or the nearby environs is a huge Wal-Mart. Miz Shoes cries for her beloved New York City. It is at this Wal-Mart that the girls (and Dominique-inique-inique) will face their next test: the Cover Girl make-up challenge. It’s the usual: elbow each other out of the way at the make up wall, create a fresh, clean look using Cover Girl products A, B and C. There is a single make-up mirror, so sharpen the elbows again for that. You have 5 minutes from GO.

Brent Poer and Molly Someoneorother from Cover Girl judge the results: Fatima has flattened her color, Lauren should use blush. Allison was great, but heavy handed (i.e.: used a trowel for applying). Claire of the bi-polar hair is the winner.

Back in the dorms, Dominique-inique-inique and Claire discuss being single mothers and how they are doing this show to make their children’s lives better. By not being with them for 14 weeks? By showing them how to gamble on their futures rather than planning and working for them? Sort of like buying lottery tickets rather than putting money into savings, or getting a college education? Dominique-inique-inique says that she’s had to be both mother and father to her kid. Miz Shoes suspects that has been perilously easy, what with the shenis and all. Then Dominique-inique-inique goes on at great length about being a role model and domestic violence and blahblahblah. Heard it for the past 9 seasons. Try a new one.



Over in the big bed, Allison is playing with Barbies. She stuffs tissue in the seat of her Black Barbies pants to approximate Fatima’s junk in the trunk. There is much racist stereotyping and trash talking and Miz Shoes refuses to legitimize it by rehashing it here. Let’s just say that Allison is still holding a grudge against Fatima’s insensitivity to her body image issues. Why are there Barbies there? Where did the Barbies come from? Did Allison bring them with her? Are they tools used in the confessional, like the dolls psychologists use to help children talk about sex abuse?  If they belong to Allison, do we think that her attachment to these unrealistic figures is the root of her body image issues? Yeah. I digress.

Tyra scrolling lights! SQUEALING!!! STFU!!!!!! Do you ever want to just curl up and dye? Yes. Now in particular, what with the squealing that never ends. Oh. This must mean makeovers. Sally Ann squeaks to a giant portrait of Tyra, begging not to have her head shaved. Nothing good will come of that, watch my words. The girls and Dominique-inique-inique are hauled away in the LimoCab to the Stephen Knoll salon. He is Cindy Crawford’s hair guy…Cindy Crawford who just had a commercial for her line of furniture at Sears. My brain hurts. In an attempt to make this season mo’ real, Tyra tells the girls that their makeovers are going to be surprises, because in the real world, there isn’t a supermodel telling you that you’ll get blonde extensions and you’ll get a mohawk. Get in the chair and wait for the magic to happen. I ain’t telling you bitches shit. I think I see the riding crop.

Anya of the weird speech impediment gets white blonde, straight hair. Big Whitney gets a big weave. She can make it in country music if this doesn’t pan out for her. Aimee gets a dark red shaggy cut with bangs. Marvita gets something that Tyra calls a Horse Mane Weave, and it is Tyra’s own creation. What it is is a long weave where Marvita’s hair was already in a fro-hawk, and short on the sides where she already had short hair. Meh. It actually kind of works, though it pains me to say that. Lauren is femmed up with a long blonde weave with some reddish highlights and curl. Miss Jay gets all the extras sewn in at random. Katarzyna gets her hair darkened. Claire goes white blonde and mostly shaved. She’s stoked. Fatima looses the icky mercurochrome shit she’s been sporting in favor of a butt-touching chestnut brown weave. The pain and agony and torture of the process leaves her weeping and crying and carrying on for the rest of the day. Allison gets a lighter weave. What is with all the freaking weaves? Dominique-inique-inique gets her hair bobbed, and she declares herself fierce and high-fashion. Good lord that woman has a huge honker. Stacy-Ann wants Naomi Campbell (sorry, Minnie Mouse, that’s going to Fatima) but gets a short-short-short spike. Amiss gets long streaks, and proceeds to speak about herself in the third person: Amiss could become a sex monster. Weelll, half right is better than nothing.

In their after shots, wrapped in the white bandages that signify plastic surgery, we see that there is some seriously bad skin on these faces. Good lord. Maybe Noxema should consider a sponsorship for next cycle.

We are taken back to the loft, and subjected to more squealing as the Scrolling Tyra Lights announce that having worked the make up and worked the hair, they will now have to work “the body”. “The Body” is in quotes, which anyone who has ever paid any attention to models knows is Elle McPherson’s nickname. Sure enough, they are taken to a boat in the river where they will shoot lingerie with the Brooklyn Bridge as their backdrop. Special photographer is George Holz, who shot Cycle Two’s underwater high concept shot.

Big Whitney is dressed from chap to nave in corseting and a long skirt, and can barely move to pose. Katarzyna is doing cheesecake poses. Lauren is conflicted and has a hard time with the high heels. Allison is practicing in the mirror right up until she’s called to set and promptly earns the wrath of Mr. Jay for being too pose-y. He hates on her and she claims that he doesn’t know shit, because she totally nailed the shoot. Amiss can’t take, or can’t understand direction and flounders around on the set, whereas Aimee gets praise. Dominique-inique-inique just keeps yapping and yapping and yapping about how she is fierce and high fashion and the shit and Mr. Jay don’t know from shit, calling her catalog and commercial. Cut to Mr. Jay saying that he feels bad for her, because she came out and tried her hardest and had NOTHING.

Allison confessionalizes that she nailed the shot, that she totally kicked ass and that she is NOT. GOING. HOME. Want to lay money on that, sweetie? After 9 seasons, I can confidently say that you will. Oh, hubris! Oh, irony! Oh, why don’t we have script writers, again?

Panel, where we see the (smarter) girls rocking the Applebottom swag. The guest judge is George Holz. Miss Jay is wearing sequins on his eyebrows. I do not know why. The girls are called out thusly:

Amiss, you’re a mess. Your body needs work. Lauren, you need to stand up straight. Put out your hip. Point out your toes. Stand up straight. Marvita, you looked amazing. (And amazingly, she did. Her position in front of the bridge? The cropping? Amazing.) Claire had a weird shot. Fatima looks like Iman, for real, not just a Tyra hallucination. Unfortunately, she only looks like Iman from the waist up. From the waist down, she’s stiff and can’t move her body. Oh, lord, that isn’t going to be bringing up the female circumcision shit again is it? Is she going to use that as an excuse for lower body immobility? Eeeww. Katarzyna looks like a mail-order bride. That was so last cycle people. That was Natasha. Even George acknowledges that he was shooting from the groin and not the brain. Stacy Ann has Paulina’s jawline and no neck. Extend, extend. Dominique-inique-inique looks like the Sunday paper insert for the local big-box clothing store sale. They cruelly focus on her cottage cheese thigh action and both Tyra and Paulina explain how you gotta shove that shit under and back so it doesn’t show up on film. Aimee is too stiff. Allison is told that her make over looks great and she says that she knows it does. The judges don’t like that. Especially Nigel, and they try a second time to get her to say “thank you”. The second time’s a failure, too. George says that during the shoot the lights were on, but nobody was home. And finally, Big Whitney gets a pass because the stylist sucked.

Dominique-inique-inique gets some savage critiquing by the panel. Holz says that he thought she was someone’s mother on the set, until she came out in her lingerie. Paulina calls her finished. They all loathe Allison and comment on her being conceited. Anya’s new hair is much loved, but it only makes what they call her accent and I call her speech impediment more apparent. Katarzyna is slammed again for the mail order bride, cheesecake pose. Finally, the girls are called back in.

First photo goes to Lauren, who’s so wrong it’s right. Awkward and gangly. Marvita, for some bogus and random reason, gets the second photo and the rest go down in order. Aimee, Claire, Stacy Ann, Fatima, Anya, Big Whitney, Katrazyna, Amiss. If you were keeping track, that leaves Dominique-inique-inique and Allison in the bottom two. Who goes home? The busted, antique, DragWreck that is Dominique-inique-inique or the snotty, know it all, ungrateful, “I’m not going home tonight” Allison? If you said Allison, you’ve been watching this show as long as I have.

Next week? Bitch fights!

Open, interior apartment morning.

Jillian is wearing her best Rosie-the-Riveter mini rompers. Christian is doing his hair. Rami is blissed out. Enough of that, we’re off to Parson’s work room.

There is much eyeball rolling and darting glances as our final three try to see what the others have. Rami allows as how Christian is surprised by the scope of Rami’s collection. Jillian shows Tim a striped, u-neck sweater with sleeves that look like she took the pelt off a Komondor. Or micro-fiber dust mop. Rami has toned down the garish baby-shit yellow of the collection he showed Tim. There’s some glamorous antique lace that is a two-piece evening dress. Christian offers up a caveat to Tim that not all the pieces in his collection are wearable. It is, however, all black, ivory and brown. He’s nervous, and not the odious little queen we’ve grown to love.

Christian interviews that Jillian’s collection is soooo innovative, and Rami is soooo good, that he just doesn’t know how he can compete with them. With the snarky wit and wicked fast sewing skills you’ve shown all season? We see the designers playing with each other’s designs, and Christian is wearing the most fabulous black felt cloche with a crest of black feathers. It’s very helmet-like, and at the same time evocative of Dior’s bubble hats from the 60s, and flappers’ cloches from the 20s. Miz Shoes would like to order one in several colors. Jillian is nervous about casting, because she’s never done it and Christian says it’s her own fault and too damned bad. There’s some amusing footage of the three designers all trying to hire the same girls. Christian says that he needs fierce tallness and walks for days. Tall and dark.

T MINUS 2 and counting

Collier Strong comes to do the hair and make-up. Rami is looking for chiseled faces and deep shadows. Christian is going for pale eyes and strong brows and mouths. Jillian wants natural but dramatic.

Rami interviews that everything Christian does is over the top. Can Christian design for real women, and not just models? Rami wonders. The models come in for their fittings and Christian is cramming his girls’ feet into 7 inch heels. They cannot walk in them, and Christian scorns them for their inability, saying that he wore them around his apartment for days and he was fine in them. This is not as funny as you would think. He is calling the models bitches and telling them to not be late, and not to eat; he wants them skinny. This isn’t as funny as one might hope, either. In fact, even Miz Shoes, the old fag hag that she is, is finding this a bit over much and a maybe more than a little rude.

Jillian is now in a dither, second guessing her model choices and calling the casting agency to switch up girls. She’s warned it might not happen, but this is the cycle of bunnies and rainbows and love, and so she gets her wish. Tim calls the designers together for a last “Gather round.” There are group hugs and everyone tells everyone else how much they love them and how talented they are and Tim Gunn sheds a perfectly formed tear.

SHOW TIME!

We approach Bryant Park in the dark, and Rami tells us that Bryant Park during Fashion Week is the heart that pumps the blood of the fashion industry in America. Dude. Word dat. We have another group hug.

Christian’s bitches are late, with the last girl wandering in with only 30 minutes to runway. Passive aggressive? Or just stupid, unprofessional and lame? We see Christian doing his hair ONE MORE TIME and he interviews that he kinda hopes he wins? Because there is nothing in the pipeline and he’s kinda out of options? Fierce.

As the entire world knows by now, the fabulous celebrity judge is no lesser a star than Posh. Mis Shoes considers stabbing herself in the eye with the little plastic cocktail sword which is holding her olives. She opts for just eating the olive.

Jillian’s collection is first. Jillian herself is wearing an adorable winter white, cable-knit, strapless, full skirted little dress. Her collection is coats, leggings, Apocalyptic Trench Coats, short anorak style coats with inside elbow cut-outs for emergency blood transfusions, a variation of her little gold final challenge dress, another coat, the Komondor-sleeved sweater, pleated little skirts and leggings. And maybe some other stuff that I didn’t see because JoJo, the dog of very little brain, jumped on the couch and did something to the remote control which turned off the teevee and made it almost impossible to get it back on and hooked up with the cable.

Rami comes out to introduce his collection and claims that it celebrates women. The blue coat with the weird-ass armored sleeved is sent out first. It’s an awful shade of blue, honestly. Then there is a suit with a tulip skirt and it’s boring and blue. An ugly baby doll. Then the dress that won the walk-off, the two-toned white on grey and grey on white polka-dotted heavily sculpted/draped dress. A blouse of the same dotted fabric, with puffy sleeves, and a leather bustier that looks sort of like the shape that Daniel V showed in season 2. Black and red, red and black. Jodhpurs with outlandishly large hip balloons. A dress with a quilted neck panel, and another gown in olive and bronze with a woven bodice. The two evening dresses, ivory with a fish tail, and the black with the hip pads that we saw him show Tim. The overall look is nice. I’m not crazy about his color usage. The RLA loved the colors, though. Of course, he’s a man and he acknowledged that the colors were traditional camouflage colors.

Christian bounces out and is (I sort of hate myself for saying this: adorable). He looks around at the tent and tells the audience that they all look fierce. Let the games begin. Tight black pants and an over the top cropped jacket with puffy sleeves. And another one. And another one. And a ginormous Breakfast at Tiffany’s hat with the foofy, organza petal, neck thing that Tim thought was a skirt. Peach skinny pants. A brown/beige/ivory sort of vertical version of the Avant Garde challenge dress. Pretty amazing. The last look, which is feathers and ivory and gold and chiffons and what’s another word for over the top? Crazy fabulous. Posh keeps poking Michael Kors and stage whispering that she loves this. Ya think?

Back at the Parsons runway room, the designers face off with the judges. Michael Kors tells Jillian that she made knitwear exciting. I guess. I still want the dress she was wearing. I’m not sure that anyone with arms larger than toothpicks could wear that Komondor sweater. NinaGarcia thinks that she had too many looks. Posh doesn’t say anything worth noting.

Christian, on the other hand, gets told that he’s MAJAH. Oh, hoho. Is that her trademark phrase? Who fucking cares? Fucking POSH SPICE was the best they could do? Why couldn’t we have had Roberto Cavalli for our final judge? I’d rather have seen Gwen Stephani up there. Anyway, Posh loves him and he loves her and offers to dress her anytime and she says OK, and you know she just wanted to stuff him in her pocket and take him home right then and there. NinaGarcia brings us back to earth by saying it was a tad repetitive and there was too much black.

Rami gets the love from NinaGarcia, but Michael Kors tells him that the colors he used sucked. And they did. I cast a triumphant eye over at the RLA when Michael made his declaration. NinaGarcia mangles the English language one last time by telling Rami that the area where he “really shined” was eveningwear.

With the designers back in the green room, the judges decide that Jillian’s show was accessible and feminine, but that she hasn’t really found her voice yet. Christian opened strong and kept going. NinaGarcia thinks that his work is overwrought and needs to look effortless, but the all agree he walks what he talks. Rami is given the brainy, cerebral tag, and NinaGarcia understates that maybe Rami has a challenge with color.

The winner is Christian, and I get the feeling that he, for all his fierceness and bravado, didn’t expect to. I suddenly love him to pieces. He cries. I love him more. Rami is a gracious loser. Jillian. not quite so much. Heidi kisses our little Christian and tells him he is “uber fierce.” And he is. We end with Christian telling us that he’s off for a breakybreak, cause gurl needs a vaycay. I miss him already.

Next week? Only ANTM, which is trash to this treasure.

I’m minding my own business at the office today, when a little plink announces that there is new e-mail. It’s from a member of a Green committee that I’m on, so I open it. Only, it isn’t about our committee, it’s an invitation (forwarded with other e-mail stuck to it) to join her in a new Bible study group that she’s forming. It will meet in the break room on my floor at lunch time. It will be non-denominational, she says, because there are so many of us of so many religions. To which the attached reply has responded, and I pretty much quote: “Praise the Lord. What a great way to spread His word.”

I choke on my coffee. I type the following reply (paraphrased): “Dear Cow-orker, I’m more than a little offended by your invitation. I find bible study in the workplace highly inappropriate. Although you claim that this will be non-denominational, it has been my experience as a Jew, that when people like you say “Bible”, you are not referring to the Pentateuch, (my Torah) or even the Old Testament. You will be reading the story of Jesus, the New Testament. Please remove me from this mailing list.”

But I didn’t send it. Why offend someone I have to work with? I rewrote it, substituting “I’m uncomfortable with your invitation.” Then I took out the “people like you” part. Then I called the HR office and spoke to someone in Employee Relations and trashed the e-mail entirely. I mean, come on. My name is so typically Jewish that I often joke that it’s Jewish for Smith. Or Gonzalez. What makes her think I want to join a bible study group that includes people who say “Praise the Lord” fer fuck sake? Of course, this is the woman who told my Hindi friend that Jews don’t read the bible. She told my friend when she overheard us having a conversation about borrowing one of my prayer books. So she said it to my face. And I corrected her then. Sigh.

Anyway. I work for a business whose business is death and dying. We are, as individuals and as a company, acutely aware of spirituality and how that manifests in a million ways. We are very careful in our Chaplaincy to not promote or endorse any one religion, but all spirituality. And I have some wanker asking me to partake in lunch time bible study. On site. Um, thanks, but no thanks. And I think HR explained to her how, if she wanted to read the bible with her friends at lunch, it would be better to do it informally among friends, rather than sending out a blanket invite to all and sundry.

My personal (albeit brand new) National Holiday. This does not replace my other personal national holiday, Bob Dylan’s birthday.

Someone on Ravelry asked: “What do you miss most about being a child?”

I grew up in South Florida (which I need to mention because) I miss: going to the beach in the dead of night in the middle of the summer to watch the sea turtles lay their eggs. Seeing the shoals of sand dollars just under your toes. Riding my friend’s horse through the orange groves and flower farms. Summers eating all the raspberries I could pick from the brambles in my Grandpa’s back yard in Newport. Picking mushrooms and having Grandma fry them for breakfast. Climbing coconut & mango trees. Eating everything that was edible in the landscape, from palm hearts to oranges to wild grapes to mangoes to coconuts to rose apples to guavas to mulberries to avocados to Key limes to wild mustard to kumquats and calmondins to loquats to Surinam cherries to the honey from the flame vine flowers. If it didn’t grow in my yard, it grew in someone else’s and was free for the taking. Making lime-ade from the Key Limes and drinking it from a high ball glass with a mint garnish and a splash of grenadine. Having my daddy make fried kippers for me. Fishing in the creek with a cane pole and frying up pan fish afterwards. Going swimming in the pond and getting yelled at because there could have been a gator. Taking my dog to the beach, where he could run free. Getting tucked in at night. Going to the family store after hours and having the run of the place. Riding my bike to the beach. Body surfing and snorkeling all day without worrying about skin cancer. The stars. The smell of orange blossoms in the spring. Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches beside the country club pool. Hearing the trio play “Baby Elephant Walk” at the country club dinners. Catching minnows in a net made out of a wire hanger and the toe of my mother’s stocking (not pantyhose). Making a horse tail out of Royal Poinciana fronds. Climbing the mulberry tree and eating until I was purple and still having enough to take home to my mother to make a pie. Driving around town to look at the Christmas lights. Standing in the sugar sand to watch the space launches 100 miles north. The parades down Flagler Avenue. Learning to sail on the Indian River. Learning to waterski on the St. Lucie River. Feeding lettuce to the manatees at the dock in down town Fort Pierce. Orange groves and flower farms. My best friend, who lived on a dirt road. The feel of the hot car seat after a day at the beach.

Back wit da bitches and da hos

Although ANTM managed to sneak back on teevee without sending me the memo, they only were on for a week before I found them. All we missed was the crazy that was too crazy for the legal department, and so we’re off to see Miss Tyra and the new batch of mildy retarded, delusional hamsters that warm the cockles of my hard little heart. Yes, gentle readers, America’s Next Top Model is back on the air for Cycle 10, and Miz Shoes is on the couch, martini in one hand, pen in the other to bring you the best (except for Potes) in snarky recapping. Take a swig, and let’s begin.

We see Marvita, she of the frohawk and bad attitude. She’s this year’s returning wannabe, and though she’s no Tiffany, she has her issues and they are many: she was abandoned by her crackhead momma, tossed around many foster homes, abused and raped and left homeless by the system by the age of 18. But she’s been in therapy every Tuesday for a year, and she’s feeling much better now.

We meet Kim, who is dumber than dirt and talks funny. We meet Amis, who used to be Amy, but there was another hamster named Amy and Miss Tyra said that one of them had to change her name, so she volunteered. Why change it to Amis? Because it’s a name from the bible. Miz Shoes isn’t one of those reader/rereader/daily dipper bible nuts, but she does know this: in the bible, they spell it Ay-Em-OOOH-Ess. Amis with an I is Kingsley Amis, the author. I’m just sayin’.

Fatima gets her moment in the rehash spotlight and shares with horrified viewers everywhere her personal tale of female circumcision (aka: genital mutilation) and Miz Shoes downs the first martini in one gulp. Mah Lord, do not make us hear about this every week for 12 weeks, please. Somehow I doubt that my prayer will be answered. On the contrary, last cycle was the Green cycle, and Tyra has told us this is going to be the Important Issues Cycle, and I fear we have not heard the last of genital mutilation. It’s going to be a looooooong twelve weeks.

Fatima is out of the gate and in the early lead (by a nose over Marvita) for the title of House Bitch. After yanking everyone’s chains, she coolly observes to no one in particular that she didn’t know she could make people feel upset. “How interesting.” Oh, how foreshadowing, more like. I don’t know what happened next, but my notes (and we are only five minutes in) say: “Christ on a cracker, do these hamsters ever STOP squealing?” And sadly, the answer is no. They do not. Tyra scrolling text message? SQUEEEEEEEEE! The two Jays? SQUEEEEEEE!!!! A photo shoot? SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!! A fashion show in Times Square? SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!! For Badgley Mischka? Crickets. Oh, well. Hey, look! Badgley has the same silver hair-don’t as Mr. Jay!

Lauren self-identifies as “The Girl Who Has Never Worn High Heels Before Being Cast on ANTM.” Where do they find them? And off they go down the runway. Marvita hikes out first, looking down at her feet and racing to the end and back. Kim can’t walk and proceeds to voice over that she was wearing a pair of $700 mini-shorts and she finds it stupid to pay that much for clothes and she doesn’t get it. Ruh-roh, not a good sign.

Lauren causes me to go ACK and Miss Jay to make a face. Amis tries to be cute and aw shucks by asking what she’s doing on a runway, when golly, she’s just a ragamuffin. She uses the word “ragamuffin.” I hate her already. Backstage, Marvita and Fatima are gunning for a bitch fight with each other. Neither one is backing down, and I’m not sure which one is going to pull the first shiv. It could go either way.

Back to the loft, where there is a Tyra Scrolling Message and there is more inane squealing. There is a visit to Elite Model Management to meet Neal Hamil, so the sponsor can get the first look and decide who’s going to win. We have our first look at Paulina Porizkova, former top supermodel, ex-Dancing With the Stars hoofer, critically acclaimed actress in movies nobody ever saw, novelist, renowned knitter and wife of Ric Ocasek (one of the homeliest men in rock and roll, second only to, or maybe beating out Todd Rundgren—who, coincidentally, replaced Ric when The Cars reformed a couple of years ago…). Can you say overachiever? Just typing that list makes me want a nap. Paulina, however, is ready for anything and wastes no time telling each of the hamsters exactly why they will suck: you have bad skin; you look like a drag queen/scrub your face; too High School Musical (this to Kim the Dim) if you have a dark side, bring it (and demonstrates pulling something out of her… well, I’m not sure where it was coming from, but it required sticking her entire arm down her throat.); you are too shmooshy-faced.

And off the models go, to their first “real” shoot, which has something to do about homeless people. Except, real homeless people will be posing with the girls, wearing the high fashion stuff and the girls will be dressed like street people. Salacious D has a “My Life” (still no longer My Life as a Cover Girl, it must be one of those truth in advertising things) commercial and explains that now that she is a new cover girl, she needs a new hairstyle. No, you needed a new hairstyle because that rat weave Tyra & Co. gave you was heinous.

First up on the set is Fatima, who gets all weepy because in addition to her female circumcision, she was also afflicted with homelessness as a child. She goes backstage and starts up with Marvita again, just to blow off the sadness. Marvita gives as good as she gets, and then, Ohmygod! they discover that they have so much in common: homelessness, abuse, stank attitude, anger management issues, and they immediately become BFF. Whew. I thought for sure someone was gonna have to cut a bitch.

The rest of the girls go down thusly: Dominique, surprisingly hot; Claire, sorta good; Amis, amiss; Kim, dumber than dirt; Marvita, dull. Kim then interviews that she wants to model, but not high fashion clothes because she doesn’t “want to support that”. That being the fashion industry and spending good money on clothing. Miz Shoes pounds the second martini and ponders the notion that there is someone in the world who aspires to be a clothing model for Sears or K-Mart.

More squealing as the scrolling message light announces the first judging. Miz Shoes is not feeling the scrolling message lights. We enter the judging room and see that Nigel is as hot (and hopefully as pervy) as ever. Miss Jay has on one of Janet Jackson’s Rhythm Nation reject jackets, upon which he has velcroed each of the hamster’s names. He will be ripping one name off each week. I suppose that this is better than the ever-expanding afro, or the clown collar, but not by much. The final judge is Paulina Porizkova. Oh boy! La Dickenson has a worthy successor, finally. No more Missus Nice Guy Twiggy in her tatty little cardigan.

Lauren “Lawsy, Miss Tyra, I don’t know nuffin bout walkin in no high heels” gets the first critique and it goes like this. Paulina loves her. Nigel says she looks, in person, way too nervous. Paulina jumps down Nigel’s throat and tells him that Lauren has a right to be nervous, at least for a couple of weeks. Nigel gets his snark on and tells her that she’s entitled to her opinion, NEW judge. And Paulina doesn’t miss a beat and calls him OLD judge. And we all know she wasn’t talking about the number of cycles that he’s been doing this. Miss Jay and Tyra are gleeful at the fireworks. Ratings! We see ratings! Oh, yeah, there are still 13 girls to torment, so let’s continue, shall we?

Anya is put on notice that because she’s pretty and doesn’t suck, she’ll be getting the harsh judging. Amiss is inexperienced and looked like an inexperienced model looking into the light. Paulina yawns. Aimee looked not homeless but incredible. Fatima took the shoot to the extreme and everyone loves it/her. Then Tyra throw cold water on her by saying that yeah, everyone loves this shot, but it was the only one of your pix that didn’t just totally suck. Next, Dominique-a-nique-a-nique is dragalicious. Allison was lost and had no presence and Mr. Jay didn’t have one good thing to say about her work on set. Nice. Whitney is our token large girl and Paulina and Tyra go all ga-ga over the fact that she’s got the “personal, invisible wind machine”. Marvita brings the glamor to the shot, but Miss Jay yells at her to stand up straight and look people in the eye, dammitBeavis. This season’s token Soviet Sweetheart gets high marks, Claire is striking but has bad hands. Atalya is pretty, but not telling the story. The homeless people out shine her. Stacey Ann has a Minnie Mouse voice and only five poses. Kim walks forward in a horrible outfit that includes a giant headband and the judges tell her to take off the headband before they’ll even talk to her. Miss Jay pulls out a stinky, crumpled tissue and tells her that’s what she looked like in the fashion show and then Kim tells the judges that she doesn’t believe in fashion. She doesn’t find it interesting at all. She would, in fact, like to go home now, because one week in she’s decided this sort of sucks. She gets her wish and Tyra (who has heard this so often now, she doesn’t yell or call her a loser or anything) rips her photo in half, but not before telling the room that Kim had one of the best shots. Sting. And yeah, we had 14 girls so we still get to eliminate another one of you tonight.

Anya; Allyson is a Gossip Girl wannabe, Upper East Sider; Marvita; Amiss is nothing out of the ordinary; Aimee; Lauren; Atalya is pretty and pretty dull; StaceyAnn; Katarzina wears too much makeup; Claire is loved, Whitney; Dominique-a-nique-a-nique is a tragic tranny (well, you have to have one); Fatima only had the one good shot, but it was the best shot. So…

First pic goes to Anya, then Claire, who tells Tyra that her dress is “SICK!”; Whitney, Lauren, Aimee, Fatima, Marvita, Katrazina, StaceyAnn, Dominique-a-nique-a-nique, Allison and in the bottom two are Atalya, pretty but dull and Amiss, who is interesting in person, but can’t take a good picture to save herself. At least yet. Amiss stays, and Atalya takes the bus back to Brooklyn.

Next week: Make overs!! Who will get their head shaved? Who will get the rat weave? Who will get the inappropriate hair color? Who will cry for no reason? My favorite.