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Monday, September 05, 2011

Australia's Next Top Westie Scrag Series Seven #5

There are three things I would step over a burning nun to get to: a perfect dirty martini, a sloppy cheese, Jason Statham’s general pelvic area, the ability to count, and a Top Model makeover episode.

Only two of these should have hair in them, though. That's important.

Finally, desperately, after months of rinsing and repeating, we have a makeover episode. Welcome, aspirants to hirsuiteness, to the ‘I Whip My Scrag Back And Forth’ episode of Australia’s Next Top Model. Is that water temperature okay?

On a cold, rainy morning, the “modules” are “relaxing” at “home” when a Sarah Mail about reaching dizzying heights arrives.  A short ride in the Fashion Fiestas later, they’re confronted with Charlotte Dawson’s boobs, which are coming towards them at about three hundred kilometres an hour.

Her torso arrives a minute and a half later.
This week the girls will be learning about trusting the experts and letting go of things by swinging on a trapeze. It is my opinion (not that I’d ever let my opinion sully these totally objective recaps) that a lesson about letting go of things belongs almost everywhere except forty feet up in the air.

Neo is less than enthusiastic about participating. You could almost say she didn’t like it. She says “I thought it would be fun, and it was fun until like, you get up there”. Got it. Right. It’s fun right up until the point that it starts. Good tip.

Dawson asks Izzy what she wants to get rid of.


Instead, she responds with ‘self doubt’, because I know how shy and unsure those girls with pink hair who scream a lot and like coffins can be sometimes.

Montana says she doesn’t want to be shy anymore, in almost exactly the same voice that Cadet Hooks uses to whisper ‘I wanna be a police officer’ in Police Academy. Shut up. I am NOT showing my age. I’ll prove it – we’ll go up to the video shop and rent it on Beta.

Elizabeth wants to get rid of her lack of confidence and screams “I deserve this!”, obviously referring to her potential membership of the Jo Blogs’ New Bestie Club. She then swings off the platform and screams “Fuck! Holy Shit!”, ensuring a gold-plated lifetime membership card. Once she gets the hang of it, she is grace and co-ordination personified.

This is the club handshake. It needs a little work.

Maddy thinks she’s going to throw up, which shows that she’s ready to be a real model.  Alissandra and Annaliese whizz through the air with surprisingly little drag around the ear or teeth areas. Amelia is as interesting as a blanZZZZZZZZzzzzzz.

Rachel thanks the trapeze, trapeze operator, landing net, Charlotte and some passing motorcyclists, then apologises to them for thanking them, then thanks them for accepting her apology.

Dawson gathers the girls ‘round after the trapeze lesson that I can totally see the point of, and tells them that now that they’ve been transformed internally, they should prepare themselves to be transformed externally. After a few blank looks and one head-explosion close-call, she spells out the word ‘HAIRCUTS’ in cupcakes and everyone loses their goddamn shit.

Yolanda, second in line to the total unicorn-riding bestie throne, informs us that the girls will all be having a ‘long hair party’, which means different things depending on the kind of websites you like.
Turns out it’s a bunch of scrags shaking their heads around to Willow Smith’s “Whip My Hair”.

Neo has a little bit of a problem at the long hair party, because she’s... well, because she doesn’t... born under a tree, you see, and... oh, look. Let’s just do this thing again and move on:


Suddenly the modules are whisked off to the Joh-Tox Bailey salon, where all the mirrors are covered over, presumably to stop Doik Simone pecking at the glass. Each girl learns their follicular fate with varying levels of enthusiasm:

Maddy hears that she’ll be getting most of her hair chopped off, and nervously complains that she likes her long hair.

Are you absolutely and totally sure about that.

Joh-Tox decides not to cut Maddy's hair himself, but to let the little retarded work experience girl have a go.


Maddy doesn’t seem too upset, as she’s happy to have anyone cut her hair. Except... y’know... Charlotte Dawson. Onlooker Caroline says “I would’ve probably turned around and tried to cut Charlotte’s hair off”, because apparently someone asked you, arsehole.

Rachel’s hair becomes short and dark. Rachel thanks Joh-Tox and apologises to the scissors for inconveniencing them.

Saint Sarah tells Alissandra, who goes shorter and redder, that she doesn’t have to hide behind her hair any more. “Except maybe your ears”, she adds. “Keep those things hidden as much as possible, yeah?”.

Izzy starts with plastic cherries and cream in her hair, so we’re pretty much looking down the barrel of that ol’ anything-would-really-be-an-improvement shotgun.

So Kawaii Tokyo happy fun time or something.
The original plan is to give Izzy a platinum blonde ‘do, but after a number of attempts with paint stripper, a bandsaw, sandpaper and a stern dressing down from my primary school headmistress Miss Davidson, that plan is abandoned and she’s died a kind of patchy red that she refers to as ‘Cherry Cola’. See, she makes it sound good. Which is... which is interesting.

Doik comments that “I’m so excited to still have blonde hair, because I’m just a big blonde, and I’d be weird without it”. Also in logic class today: Gravity, and why it’s so wibbly-wobbly.

Yolanda says that she’s had some problems with her hair styling over the years, inexplicably prompting the show’s editors to immediately put this shot up on the screen:

Yeah, bitch. Yo' weave be wack.

Montana’s hair is lightened at the ends, which in hairdressing circles is referred to as ‘balayage’. Montana tries to pronounce ‘balayage’. Montana fails.

Blooyage? Belloggy? Belushi?

A product is applied to Neo’s scalp, but I can’t... I can’t quite see... the label... oh wait, there it is. Tresemme Salon Professional Exactly The Fucking Same Serum.

Caroline has very little change, and says “I don’t wanna sound up myself or anything, but I do sort of think I suit my hair and didn’t really need any fixing”. You know what? Saying “I don’t wanna sound up myself” in that context is the same as a doctor saying “This won’t hurt a bit” before ramming a gloved finger up your rectum. It is a lie.

I don't wanna sound up myself, but I do a really good impersonation of a doctor.

With her new shorter hair, Hazel says “It’s only hair, and it’ll grow, and we got a free haircut at Joh Bailey”, which is a completely fucked up attitude, and she should be ashamed of herself. Still, everybody seems pretty happy with their new look when they finally see it in the mirror.

Phoy-Toy Shoot

The following day, the modules drag their new heads and subsequent skeletal frames to a photo studio, where they’re met by either Josh Flinn or Brigitte Nielsen, because I STILL CAN’T TELL THOSE WACKY KIDS APART!

And yes, I will be keeping this joke going for the whole series, thanks for asking.

Under the tutelage of fashion director Inez Garcia and lens of Holly Blake, the scrags will be modelling muted, pale clothing against a white wall. Now, I know that pale against pale with pale lighting should be interesting, but I’m momentarily distracted by the chromosomal difference between us and potatoes.

Four of the photos, however, will end up in the Sunday paper, a fact that Jess says will make her grandmother ‘absolutely drop her load’, because I just can’t hear that enough about grandmothers, and now I can’t even look at a prune.

Caroline comments that she’s not feeling very confident, which is like Jeff Koons saying he’s not really sure if his puppy is big enough or, for the lowbrow amongst you, like Kanye West announcing thast perhaps he needs to come out of his shell and be more of a twat. I feel a little bit sorry for her though. Which is VERY, VERY UNCOMFORTABLE FOR ME.

The make-up team is hastily renamed the acne-concealment-squad, and we’re ready to go.

Annaliese lacks confidence, and on top of that, she says “I had my feet in the same position the whole time. I wasn’t allowed to move them’. MODELLING IS SO HARD, YOU GUYS.

Neo ‘finds it difficult to do the simple kind of moves’, because here’s a dictionary, that’s why. You could almost say she didn’t like it. Josh worries that Neo relies too much on her natural beauty. Oh, yeah. Oh, I know how much that can suck. We need to start a charity to get onto that shit and sort it out.

Alissandra, who is a size above the other girls, tells us that she was not given the most flattering outfit.


After her zipper won’t close, Josh decides to do a facial close-up of her. This is going to end up fine. Alissandra will be fine. Nothing bad could possibly come of this.

Elizabeth and Yolanda are predictably gorgeous (next club meeting is on Thursday at three, ladies – bring a plate), Maddy and Doik rock it, I finally get to see what all the fuss about Montana is, and Hazel is draped in Christmas lights.

Caroline has a bit of a cry because she’s stressed about her lack of confidence, which makes me feel like an arsehole for calling her an arsehole. It doesn’t put me off my Twisties or anything, but it’s there.

The only interesting thing about Amelia’s shoot is my surprise at how boring it is.

Rachel, who was raised in a religious family (I think it’s the Church Of Jesus Christ Of Latter Day Gratitude), doesn’t want to get her boobs out and asks that they be taped in. The shoot goes well and she thanks everyone. Thank you. Thanks for testing my faith and nipples. No, thanks. Really. Thanks a lot. Ta.

Jess joined Banarama, and her new single is out in October.

It's called 'Grandma Dropped Her Load'. Do yourself a favour.


Lesson learned, challenge accepted, phoy-toys shot, and prizes (which I think this year include fifty sheets of coloured craft paper and a skateboard) droned through, the girls gather at the Eliminarium to see what’s what and who’s not. Er, staying. Yeah. I didn’t think that through.

Saint Sarah, who is wearing a frock that I want for free, only just makes it in time to greet the girls after the inaugural meeting of the People Who Only Have Their Natural Beauty To Rely On Society. She introduces Charlotte Dawson (dressed today as the leader of an all-girl bikie gang that’s just going really fast right now), Shiny Alex Perry (dressed today as the member of the mafia that’s responsible for stealing sunglasses and furniture polish), and Inez Garcia, who’s pregnant I hope.

Photographs are pored over, but I’m distracted, because I’ve FINALLY figured out what that big weird blank rectangular panel on the front of the judges’ desk is.
It’s for screening subliminal messages to the girls. Der.

Izzy’s new haircut is discussed, and Shiny Alex Perry asks if Paris is ready for the ‘Newtown waitress look’.

Alissandra’s close-up is examined, and the judges wonder why there’s no full-length shot. Shiny Alex Perry stresses the importance of fitting into sample sizes.

When asked what she thinks of her phoy-toy, Caroline barks “I actually like it for once”. As an excuse for its shortcomings, however, she offers “It was a little bit hard because Holly was so particular about what we were doing, so it was hard as well having to do everything the way she exactly wanted”. Wow. That DOES sound hard, doing exactly what the person who’ll be paying you to do stuff pays you to do.

Simone is asked what she was thinking during her admittedly gorgeous shot. She answers “I was just listening to the photographer and... just stand and... be normal”.

The judges deliberate and scrags are narrowed down one by one until only I Don’t Like It Neo, Bottle-Opener Annaliese and Alissandra the Expandra are lef... WAAAAIT A SECOND. That’s three people! Which can only mean a SHOCK double elimination! I WISH I HAD SOME NATURAL BEAUTY TO RELY ON SO I COULD COPE WITH THIS.

Anyway, two and a half seconds pass without the customary self-esteem crushing, and Alissandra and Annaliese are out the door.
Bye, Alissandra and Annaliese! I’ll miss your prominent features and almost impossible to spell names!

Doik is happy that Alissandra has gone, and says so freely and gleefully, which is confusing, because I can usually only deal with one arsehole at a time. Except in Right Said Fred. Seriously. Those guys were arseholes.


Aaaand with Episode 5 comes verse 5 of the world’s best ever country song about Antipodean televised modelling competitions. It’s a crowded field.

If yoooou’re
Ill at ease with a big trapeze ‘cause you’re shy, or scared, or minging;
You can let it all out with a great big shout, you’ll be learning while you’re swinging.
If your hair looks strange or like matted mange, you need cutting and blow-drying;
You can watch your pink bits go down the sink, now you’re learning while you’re crying.
If her boobs are out, or she’s getting stout, then you’ll need to clip or tape her;
She can be a scrag in the Sunday mag – it’s the one that’s in the paper.
Now we’ll kick two out – oh my god! Far out! ‘Cause elimination’s dawning.
If I can open beers on your teeth or ears, then it’s probably not your morning.

(And finally, in a completely transparent plea for your approval, somebody nominated me for this Pedestrian tweety thingo, and I'm a very, very competitive person when I'm not, y'know, saving puppies from drowning and stuff. If you felt like voting, I'd be the last person to stand in your way...)


Mrs Woog said...

Ahhhh. I can drift off to sleep happy now. And if Joh wants to style me without question? I will not question..... I just want to sit still for 2 hours and not talk.

PinkPatentMaryJanes said...

I still have the tele tuned into Fox8 waiting for someone to pop up all Ferris-Bueller-after-the-credits and say, "oh yeah, that dress on Alissandra - totally a prank". Seriously, fashion, we're not going there are we? An ill-fitting, 80s peach taffeta prom frock with a ruffled bustle isn't going to do ANYONE any favours. Sheesh.

ScrubberSteve said...

Ahem, it's Bananarama. People of our age... um.... musical experts like us should know how to spell it. Now where can I get a signed copy? ;)

Going to sleep now singing your ditty as a lullaby....

losfp said...

Voted. Done. There's going to be a cheque right? In the mail yeah? I'll accept pretend monies.. I'm saving for an imaginary holiday....

The makeovers disappointed me this year. So much freakin' no difference from before! And what is with them being quietly disappointed with their dos?? Damn it, I want tantrums.

shellity said...

I like the bit where you called the person known for being the most snarky and vengeful 'retarded'.

Charlotte Dawsons Boobs said...

I agree with Shellity. The dress Alissandra wore was Ellery. That is all.

Anonymous said...

Alissandra looks like Hayden Quinn from Masterchef. I hate her for that reason alone.
Hayden Quinn is a muppet.

ElephantintheRoom said...

It was Charlotte's New Puffy Face that scared the shit out of those girls on the trapeze. There, I said it.

AleXandra said...

Dear Alissandra...Well the pink 'Minnie Mouse' dress certainly did you no favours.....was waiting for the make up crew to place the pink bow in your hair and tinsel covered tap booties on your tootsies.

We fell about hysterically -how about you?

Now come on was a set up...right?? Give us a break.

Pinkpatent Mary Jane=
An ill-fitting, 80s peach taffeta prom frock with a ruffled bustle ROFL+2

Q said...

I've never posted before but I believe now is the right time to profess my undying love for you. You're an inspiration for arseholes, doiks trying to be arseholes, gay American teenagers who don't like anything (sounds familiar), and salon owners who have the same name as you EVERYWHERE. I'd ask you to watch next week's scragisode with me, but I live in Connecticut y'know. So keep writing!

LaurafromOz1 said...

Is Caroline still not taking her happy pills...gawwwwwwddd and Doik..MasterBitch...just wondering where her brain cells have been transported to...oh yes, Blonde cretin land...gawwddddd