America's Next Top Model Series Six #3

Like the seasons, death, taxes, and teenage Hollywood eating disorders, you can always rely on two things: an ANTM makeover episode, and a Model Goes Postal episode. And here they both are, in package form!

Gina hates Jade. Jade hates Gina. If I don't see a screaming, goggle-eyed, all-in b*tch fight soon, I'm cancelling my subscription.

Subtitle for this week's episode could be The Pink Fluffy Furonda Tiara episode. It seems whenever her head isn't needed for modelling purposes (which should be more often, let's be frank), there's a fluffy pink plastic bejewelled tiara perched on top of it. So Ghetto. I think we're supposed to get some kind of subtle sub-textual nuance about her being a princess, but I'm not sure. Whatever it is, it's compelling. I foresee a broken tiara and some kind of inarticulate hissy-fit.

After a quick Tyra mail, the modules are bussed off to the salon for the inevitable makeover - always top viewing. First, the girls are asked (or told) what their personal style is, and then Tyra tells them which 'do' they'll be getting. I love this bit. Models huddled together, anxious looks on their scrawny faces as they're picked off one by one. Jade makes it known that she wants long hair, because beggars CAN be choosers, apparently. Sara the Johanssen Look-alike is told she's edgy, and is given a platinum-blonde, very-short-at-the-sides, longer-and-floppy on top cut, the brunette version of which was made infamous by me at Davidson High School in 1988. It looks marginally better on Sara, even though she doesn't have the bubble skirt, cinch belt, and denim hat to really set it off. Brooke the Bruised is told she'll be given hair like Gisele Bundchen, so I assume they'll be giving it an accent and rubbing it up against Leonardo Di Caprio. Nnenna the Nigerian gets a buzz-cut, because she can handle it, and because she's going to win and come and be my flatmate. Furonda is given long extensions, which she's more than a little bit chuffed about, and Mollie Sue (my other flatmate) is given a Mia Farrow which emphasises a slightly masculine jaw, but otherwise rocks. Kari is given what Tyra calls a Bardot, but what I call Mid-West American Hooters Waitress. She's concerned she looks like Barbie. She WISHES. Bratz, maybe. Wendy from New Orleans is promised J-Lo, but becomes a bit Gloria Estefan (and I'm talking Miami Sound Machine). In a spot of comic relief, Miss Jay also has a makeover, and ends up looking disturbingly like a tall gay Condoleezza Rice. Is that a tautology?

Jade the Arrogant is given a short blonde curly crop. She is, as a gross understatement, unhappy, but she knows why this dastardly wrong has been done. "They're trying to test me", she concludes, quite convinced that they have to make her look bad just so she's not so obvious a choice for the winner. I love this girl. Deluded, catty, and loving the sound of her own voice - this is what this show's all about. Love her. Want to stab her with a hot chisel, but LOVE HER.

Back at the Model Mansion, Furonda, true to her stupid and ever-present tiara, announces that it's "time to hand out my rules". My chin dropped with a bizarre mixture of horror and delight as she HANDED OUT PHOTOCOPIED PIECES OF PAPER that had her 'rules' printed on it. Rules like 'I'm the best person to discuss me with', and 'Stay out of my personal business unless I invite you in'. PHOTOCOPIED PAPER. I'm still choking on incredulous bile. I'd feel like handing her a sheet of my own rules, like 'Walk slowly up to the edge of a cliff with me behind you', or 'Grasp desperately for reality, you hoity fruitcake'. The other modules were less than impressed, and filed the rules away in suitable places. Like the pool.

Back on the bus again to a fashion show featuring up-and-coming (cheap) designers, at which the modules are challenged to pick outfits that match the personal style they were told they have. After the show, the girls are let loose on the clothes racks, and meet Rachel Zoe, a stylist, who announces that the girls have fifteen minutes to do their hair, make-up and wardrobe, and need to best articulate their style. Naima, the winner of series 3, pops in to give some styling tips, obviously not on her way to a pressing modelling engagement in the whirlwind life that isn't that of America's Third-To-Last Top Model. Jade looks like a Bohemian/Gladiator hybrid, Sara looks more than a bit like a middle-range pole-dancer in bra and hot-pants, Mollie-Sue looks brilliant in easily the funkiest outfit of the lot, and Furonda just tells everyone "I'm dressed great". Nnenna, in a simple frock, wins the style challenge (because she and I are probably going for coffee soon), and gets to share a five thousand dollar shopping spree with two 'friends'. She picks Jade and Gina, hoping they'll find a way to get along. Whatever. There's free clothes at stake. Who gives a stuff about rapport?

And now - my favourite bit. I've always talked a lot about how enjoyable it is to watch celebrities plummet into the Pit of Insanity at some stage of their careers - Tom Cruise, Michael Jackson, Moira - and wannabe models are no exception. It's night-time at the Model Mansion, and Wendy is on the phone to her mum (discussing the family's recovery after Hurricane Katrina - you know, trivial stuff), when Jade, wrapped in the Standard Nutjob Uniform of underpants with a sarong around her head, busts impatiently into the room and demands that she has a turn on the phone, complaining that "I haven't talked to my family since my makeover!". Somehow, and to the intense and mirthful enjoyment of the rest of the modules, this triggers an insane rant by Jade of padded-wall proportions, including choice phrases such as:
(pointing to the ANTM sign on the wall) "This is NOT America's Next Top Best Friend!"
"I'm the undiscovered supermodel!"
"I've lived in New York, man! The belly of the beast!"
"I'm a soldier sister!"
And my favourite: "Yeah, I'm out here in my panties, and I look goooooood!"
She finally gets to speak to her mother, and complains "These girls are horrible - they're trying to corrupt me". Bless you, my crazy friend. Bless you, and get yourself off to a clinic of some sort, quicksticks.

PHOTO SHOOT: The modules are up for a mock magazine cover shoot this week, in a set made from blocks of ice in a gigantic coolroom. To add to the discomfort of the freezing cold, the girls are given pretty much the ugliest make-up I've ever seen. I think they were going for a dripping-in-ice-crystals look, but it sort of comes off as an I've-just-woken-up-and-now-look-at-all-my-crusty-dried-up-eye-snot kind of thing. The girls from warmer climates are supremely uncomfortable, and Jade blames her make-up for her inability to look pretty. I've decided I can't look at Kari and her big exaggerated everything any more. I just feel like I could pop her with a sharp pin.

JUDGEMENT: The girls file in to the judgement room and are reminded of the judges' names. Spunky Nigel smiles a suggestive smile as he says hello, and the girls smile and say hello back, to the sound of twelve pairs of undies being soiled inappropriately all at once. The girls are shown their photos and each have a quick chat to the panel. The judges don't like Wendy's hair, so they call in a crew member to douse her with water. Gina's photo is all crossed eyes and bony angles, while Nnenna the Nigerian looks unfortunately like a masculine basketball-playing popsicle. Jade blames the other girls for her aggression, and her make-up for her dreadful photo, and Spunky Nigel, who may soon feature somewhere near my mattress, basically tells her to stop b*tching and shut it.

Tyra seems to be wearing more make-up every week, giving the impression that her eyes are somehow connected to her lips by a big smudgy trail of shimmer. It's like she's dipped her head in a bucket of Christmas beetles.

The judges deliberate with some disturbing rhyming couplets (or are they singlets?) from Miss Jay and Spunky Nigel, including "Furonda should be Gone-da" and "Jade just needs to get laid". The girls re-enter the room and are told they're safe one by one, until it's just down to Jade the Arrogant and Wendy the Morose - Jade is told that she's full of excuses, and that the judges suspect her arrogance is just insecurity. I agree that there's a Crying Little Girl inside, but I think she might be carrying a hatchet. Wendy is told that she's beautiful in person, but a bit of a bow-wow in photos, and is given the boot. Bye, my sad little South American ruminant. Don't lose any more family members on the way out.

Next week, we have the obligatory walking class (I love that term), PLUS the obligatory photo-shoot with insects. Coaches. Approaches. Roaches. Can't wait.
Until then...