Australia's Next Top Westie Scrag Series Seven #3

So I was going to start with some kind of joke about how with the beach, the pool and the buckets, this episode of Australia’s Next Top Model made people all wet, but I know that you’ve come to expect a certain level of class, elegance, and a crapload of sophistication here on this blog, so I didn’t.

Instead, I’ll show you this picture I found of a cat’s bum pencil sharpener.

A thousand apologies, Mr Mittens.

Still, this was an unnecessarily moist episode. So much so that I’m calling it the ‘Water Water Everywhere But Not A Scrag To Think’ episode.

Because I am a sad, angry little person.

The girls get a boat across the harbour to their new Module Mansion, which ups the ‘Oh my god’ tally by about heaps. “A waterfall!”, says one scrag. “A television!”, says another. “Our rooms are amazing, everything is so big and so opulent!” says Izzy.

Nothing says opulent like aluminium bunk-beds.

And how do you feel about your new house, Teary Tayah?

A little teary, to be honest.

Learnment

I’ve already learned two important lessons from watching this series of ANTM. I’ve learned that Caroline spends a large chunk of her life with her mouth open:

Yes, there's an obvious joke there, but this is a classy establishment.

And I’ve learned that when Charlotte Dawson does this, you’re fucked.

One way or another, you're about to get a spray.

Today the modules are going to learn how to walk, and Charlotte and Adam Williams (choreographer/man with alarmingly high pectorals) are going to teach them. In heels. At the beach. It’s like trying to teach Jackson Pollock how to colour between the lines or, for the lowbrow amongst you, like teaching Bindi Irwin the concept of ‘using your inside voice’.

Adam advises the girls to stand up straight, put their shoulders back, their hips forward, and to look like a plank.

Seriously. I just Googled 'planks with ears' and this happened.

Madeline complains that her shoes are ruined. Madeline could maybe have bought some new shoes during her free trip to Paris, or brought an extra pair to her free mansion, or alternatively just SUCKED IT UP.

Caroline thinks the challenge is ‘slightly ridiculous’. Caroline is an arsehole.

Cassie might have a little trouble telling her left from her right.

In another surprise, sand is sandy.

One by one, selected scrags are asked to walk in a particular style. Madeline is ‘expensive’, and puts one foot in front of the other. Amelia is ‘edgy vamp’, and walks to the rhythm of her brain screaming “I LOVE FASHION! I LOVE FASHION!”.
Doik Simone is ‘futuristic’, and has a little trouble with the concept, because “I was asked to walk furutre-listically, and I had no idea what to do because we’re not in the future yet, we’re still in 2011”.

I’ll give you a hint, Doik. It looks like this.

You won’t have to walk anywhere, because you’ll have your hover-bubble, and OH MY GOD.

Speaking of hover bubbles...

Challenged.

Best. Freaking. Challenge. Ever.

You know those days when you have to walk along a plank in the middle of a pool on a windy day inside a gigantic plastic ball? THAT.

Our modules arrive at an insanely gorgeous house in Coogee, which is ‘Somefink that I wanna live in when I get me own house”, because despite several pages of reasons that Cassie will never be a top model, one finds that one cannot deny her singular appeal.

Josh Flinn introduces designer Magdalena Valevska, who is the person I’m begging for a free frock this week primarily because her dresses are what awesome would look like if it was pleated and had boobs inside. Then while Josh busies himself with still looking like Brigitte Nielsen;

IT'S UNCANNY, RIGHT?

The girls busy themselves by wobbling, grimacing, looking terrified and vastly improving the quality of my life. Caroline does really well because she’s an arsehole. Amelia nearly blows away because she weighs less than a vacuum. Annaliese is propelled forward by her overbite, Izzy falls into the water like she’s had a gentle stroke, and finally Rachel, obviously distracted when she notices someone in the audience that she’d never said ‘thank you’ to, falls into the pool exactly as elegantly as an eight-foot nervous gangly teenager doesn’t.

Thanks for breaking my fall, pool. Thank you. Thanks.

It takes her three or four days of frenzied scrabbling to get back on the plank, and an additional two hours for me to put all my organs back in their original, pre-I-had-a-stroke-from-laughing positions. It’s okay though, Rachel. I don’t think the judges noticed.

And how does Teary Tayah feel about the challenge?

A little teary, to be honest.

The challenge winners, Annaliese and Rachel, get a two-hour spa treatment, which should be interesting, but I’m mometarily distracted by the sound of the word ‘whatever’ snoring.

Phoy-Toy Shoot

The next morning, the modules are led down to their back garden (which sounds like a rude euphemism, but like I said – it’s all fucking class here at Jo Blogs) for a swimwear shoot with gently-spoken-but-still-inexplicably-creepy photographer Harold David, who could probably make a lump of phlegm look expensive.  He tells the girls that they’ll have water thrown on them, but to act like they don’t notice it. MODELLING IS SO HARD, YOU GUYS. He also tells them to try not to look like planks. Even though two days ago they were told to look like planks, and yesterday they walked on one. MAKE UP YOUR MIND. GOD.

Amelia does really well, but fills out a bikini like a sleeping quadruple amputee fills out a Census form.

Neo gives us our second opportunity to shout ‘Grace Jones!’ at the telly.

Simone, being the only one not struck dumb by the size of her gigantic rack, doesn’t leave dumb completely behind when she says “I don’t do cold water, or water in general”.

We are got ourselfs a dehydrated GENIUS.

Alissandra does her usual remarkable transformation, and Harold remarks that “She’s got a lot of quirks about her that are beautiful”. Ears. He means ears.

Most of the girls are amazing, Izzy and Yolanda are goddamn amazing, and Cassie is... oh. Goddamn. That’s. That’s unfortunate. I want to hug her, though. Hug her and whisper “Get out. Get out now” in her ear.

Elizabeth gets to be photographed twice, because she’s my new best friend, so she can do anything she likes. Wanna come over to my house to drink Bacardi Breezers and talk about boys, Lizzy?

I'm taking that as a yes.

And how do you feel about the challenge, Teary Tayah?

Well fuck me. Would you look at that.

Eliminationosity

Before the girls enter the Elimination Barn, we’re told all about the competition prizes, which I think this year include a fighter-pilot training course and a bag of Minties. So pretty much the same as last year.

Saint Sarah greets the girls, only just making it to the Barn in time after sourcing Floaties for the RSPCH (Royal Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Hamsters). She introduces judges Charlotte Dawson (dressed today as that bitchy teenager from high school), Shiny Alex Perry (dressed today as an undertaker who has accidentally embalmed himself) and Harold David (dressed today, and every day, like that cab driver who plays jazz and talks a lot).

As photos are examined, zingers zing from the judges lips like zingy zingers do, such as:

“She was the totally glamster hamster” – ZING!

“I think you do bitch really well” – KERZING!

“You know when you talk about modelling with your eyes? She’s modelling with her tits” – ZING-A-ZING-ZING!

And then Charlotte says something about Annaliese and a rabbit, because this.

I ate his liver with fava beans and a nice Chianti.

Deliberation happens, Rachel thanks and hugs some people and modules are whittled down one by one until just Hazel and Cassie remain.

Hazel is told that she used to be impressive, but now she’s disappointing. Cassie is told that she probably doesn’t have what it takes. Self esteem is told that it can wait outside, as it won’t be needed on set for a while.

Four minutes pass, and Cassie is tearfully given the boot. She surprises everyone by being gracious, articulate, adorable, humble and affectionate.

Then she writes ‘WILL LOVE AND MISS USE. TOODLES’ on the wall.

Bye, Cassie. We’ll miss youse somefink chronic.


*********************************************************

I told you I was writing a country song based on one-verse-per-episode, right?

It’s aaaaaaaaaa

Scrag in a frock in a ball on a plank in a pool at a house in Sydney

You’ll be in the drink – while you slowly sink, we’ll be laughing up a kidney.

While you walk along and the wind is strong, mind you watch your locomotion;

Or the great big ball blows beyond the wall and it ends up in the ocean.

For your shoot get dressed in your beachy best and show off your strongest angles,

But you oughtta know there’s a water throw and you’re wearing heavy bangles.

Shit, now Cassie’s out, and I have to pout, ‘cause although I didn’t rate her,

I’ll still shed a tear and hold up my beer, and say “Bye! I’ll see youse later”.