Well, this week I... I kind of... I thought New Zealand’s Next Top Model was a bit... well, boring.
I still love you, NZNTM, and I still want to have your farcical reality babies, but tonight you went to sleep while I stayed awake in bed, antsy as hell.
There. I’ve said it. Now let’s have screeching monkey make-up sex and forget this ever happened.
Look, woman. Wear something that doesn’t remind me of Blanche from the Golden Girls or I’m calling Supre. We’re over the lovely lady frumps already.
WHO TOLD YOU TO WEAR A BAGGY T-SHIRT, CHRIS? I want to see cotton/polyester-outlined man nipples, please. Also: Jonathan Pease wants his driving cap and Mack Truck sunglasses back.
Colin Hyphenated-Surname, we need to have a little talk. Up until now, you’ve come up with the goods. Raised the bar. Tickled our fancy. Ker-schnizzled our wizzle. But in this week’s episode, you barely raise my hackles with a half-arsed scarf and an afterthought waistcoat. It takes more than a daub of pomade and a flaccid striped jumper to thrill me, Colin. Lift your game, sir.
Wait – I think I have a picture of my reaction here somewhere...
What’s more helpful than my weekly step-by-step guide to the Kiwi language and its udio-sunchrasies? Nothing. Nothing, and actual information is what.
Mudget – a person of short stature, e.g. Kate Moss
Igg-plent – Well, technically it’s a vegetable, but you don’t have to have ever heard of one to become a model. Right, Ho(sanna)?
Seggy Tuts – Something you have after breastfeeding two children.
Wank – Something one should never do at the end of the catwalk. Right, Ho(sanna)?
Coffun – Where you imagine your boyfriend is lying if you want to portray grief in a photo-shoot, or what you do if you smoke too much.
Sex Boarding Passes – guaranteed membership to the Mile High Club.
• Y’know, I’m a pretty good bargain shopper. I like to make cheap things look expensive (© Alex Perry 2004). I also don’t like people to know I’ve bought my entire outfit for the same price as a quick handy from a lisping hooker. Subsequently, I also like cheap things to sound expensive. Like “Tresemme”. “Supre”. “Paris Hilton”. “SaveMart”. Yes, this week the modules hook up with designers who source their outfits from a place called SaveMart. At least pretend you’ve got a budget, guys.
• The photo shoot in this episode is all about the dangers of smoking, accompanied by a sincere speech from Chris “I’m Doing Yoga For You” Sisarich. We learn that smoking can do things to your health, your credibility and your complexion. We can’t, however, afford to run down the shops and buy an actual pack of cigarettes to make the shoot even slightly relevant to the theme. Seriously. Bum one from the homeless guy just outside the studio. Make his day.
• The girls are told they’re going to Sydney, and we’re shown the standard stock footage of the sun-drenched harbour with the sun-drenched Harbour Bridge and the sun-drenched Opera House. However, when Lucy is eliminated, she tearfully gets in a cab in the pouring rain. You went to Melbourne, didn’t you. DIDN’T YOU. Anyway, if you want to show people footage of what Sydney really looks like, just show them a bunch of New Zealanders with a flamboyant gay man mixed in. Waaaaiiit a second...!
• During the get-the-student-designers-to-make-you-something-from-the-scraps-at-crap-shop challenge, Christobelle finds a pair of Y-fronts and offers them to Colin. Despite the fact that I’ve always imagined Colin to be more of a Schwarovski-crystal-encrusted g-string kind of man, if I was a judge on this show I’d pretty much just hand Christobelle the win right there.
• In an op-shop, Colin’s advice directly reflects my mantra for life: “Don’t think, just grab!”. Mind you don’t graze yourself on the crystals, pet.
• For the photo-shoot, the modules are asked to each portray a separate, distinct emotion. In a complete scoop, I’ve managed to get my paws* on the actual photos from the shoot. Look closely at how each model really captures the essence of the different emotions through muscular nuance and a oneness with their sense of self:
E haere ra, Lucy! Clearly you were eliminated because you’re dumb as a bag of cheese. The modelling industry doesn’t do dumb. Sorry.
*That’s punning excellence, people. WATCH AND LEARN.