Australia's Next Top Westie Scrag Series Six #9



I’ve always wanted to visit Japan. The history, the technology, the food, the cherry blossoms, the karaoke, the sake, the drunk businessmen, the opportunity to be whispered at by Bill Murray – it all just seems enchanting and exciting.



Except for Hello Kitty. She kind of shits me, and not just because I think she and Sophie use the same lip-liner.


Anyway, I love almost everything about Japan.


And now that I also know that if you dress like a whore you can win a competition, I’m totally applying for citizenship. Hand me a hot bottle and fry me some gyoza - It’s the ‘Shibuya Think I’m Sexy’ episode of Australia’s Next Top Model. Konichiwa, bitches.


Skin-Tight Budget

• Now, I don’t really know the lay of the land in Tokyo, so I could be wrong, but I’m pretty sure the modules spent a total of about fourteen hours there, and covered a six-block radius. Just arrived in Tokyo? Make your first touristy activity holding hands and crossing the road! A big night out in Tokyo? Walk up some stairs, write a wish on a piece of paper, and stick it on a tree! So hardcore, Ke$ha may just write a song about it.


• The girls are excited about the high level of luxury in their hotel, noting particularly that they were greeted with flowers and had a personal escort to their room. Yep. Flowers and people. Both pretty rare commodities in ol’ Japan.


Me Talky Proper And That
• Jessica is a little nervous about the trip to Japan, as she’s not overly familiar with the language or culture. To camera, she says “Alright – this is what I know about Japan”, and then does this:

She knows they give brow jobs.

 • Amanda does know a little about Japan (because of the whole being awesome thing, presumably) and learnt a lot about it from this book:




Chapter 5; Ferratio.

 Which is such a coincidence – I have that same book in English!


• When the scrags arrive in Japan, they’re stunned by the appearance of a fan club of sorts – excited by their presence, jumping up and down and taking endless photographs. Kelsey remarks that “It kind of felt like the Pussycat Dolls, like, getting off a plane”. Except, y’know – relevant. And discernable from hookers. Jess adds: “After we said goodbye to our groupies – sayonara – we jumped on a bus”. You jumped on a bus? YOU’RE JUST LIKE GODZILLA.


• Speaking of which, when the girls get off the bus and mingle amongst locals at a pedestrian crossing in Shibuya, Jess says “my worst nightmare came true, because I’m like Godzilla among these people”. Babe, Godzilla eats cities. You eat salad. Maybe.


Learnment

A photo-shoot as a challenge? Japan is so WACKY.


• Our modules rock up to a traditional Japanese house and garden in Musashino and meet photographer Tomohisa Tobitsuka, because syllables are awesome. Also awesome? Editors making it look like Tomohisa Tobitsuka arrives via Star Trek transporter. It’s entirely unnecessary, yet indescribably amazing, just like cheeseburgers in a can.


• Tomohisa Tobitsuka (I just can’t type that enough, I tell ya) introduces himself in Japanese, including asking the girls to call him ‘Toby’. Jess says “He introduced himself, I think”. Hmmm. Every person you’ve met in the last nine weeks has started off by introducing themselves. Even the lint wedged into the far corner of my doona cover knows he was introducing himself. Happily, Toby has an interpreter and subtitles. Let. It. Begin.


• The challenge is all about handling a photo shoot in another language, and the theme is ‘traditional Japanese with a modern twist’. It starts off with Toby saying “Okay, ret’s shooting!”. I full stop. Love full stop. This full stop. Show exclamation mark.


• Kelsey, with conical hair, pink eyes and a po-mo-kimono, looks amazing. Her directions from Toby? “Move your face only”, and “Make your feet and the clothes look good”. Your pancreas can do whatever it likes, though.


• Sophie has a corset, a rag-doll skirt and a number of extra chrysanthemum heads. Toby asks her to pose like a Japanese lady, with “more like a modest feeling”, and she mentions that she doesn’t know how, perhaps because she guesses correctly that modesty doesn’t usually wear dresses with chains on them. And there’s that being-able-to-tell-the-difference-between-Japan-and-China thing. Then Toby makes my year by directing her to “look into the future”. Sophie says this is easy, because she used to attend a hippie school at which they hugged trees, and presumably ate a lot of mushrooms.

I looked into the future, and I saw my boobs falling out.

 Jess, in a blue frock with a fan in her hair, looks stiff and nervous, and has trouble relaxing and understanding whatever the hell Toby is saying. He tries to relax her by getting rid of the interpreter, directing her to say “ha!” and asking her what she had for breakfast. She answers “Japanese food”, which is like Gandhi answering “air” to the same question or, for the lowbrow amongst you, like Anna Nicole Smith answering “Quaaludes”. If she wasn’t dead, obviously.

• Amanda has a gorgeous red kimono and a massive circle of hair, and looks positively MELTY, even after she actually starts melting in the hot room. Toby keeps asking her to “be like a flower”, which she has trouble with, insisting that she doesn’t know how to be like a flower. Babe, Sophie had to look into the future, and Jess had to say “ha”. SUCK IT UP AND BE A FRIGGING FLOWER. PS: I hope we can still be besties.


Challenged

This weeks challenge would win a challenge to find the best challenge in the history of challenges ever.


• So apparently, “Kawaii” means “everything cute”.

Adorable.

• The scrags visit Kawaii Fashion TV, where a bunch of adorable midgets in fancy dress welcome them. YAY! The head midget, named Yu (whose surname I can only presume is ‘By Kotex’) reads from cue cards with the helpful subtitles: TODAY’S THEME FOR YOU IS A CHALLENGE WITH TOKYO KAWAII FASHION. EACH OF YOU WILL BE PAIRED UP WITH A KAWAII EXPERT AND SPEND THE WHOLE DAY CLOTHES SHOPPING AND HAVE YOUR MAKE UP DONE. Modelling is so hard, you guys. Sophie comments that “When we found out, we were just over the moon, cause it’s something that you would never do”. Shopping and having your make-up done? Japanese culture is so weird, you guys. YAY!


• Each girl is given a different kind of fashion subculture to emulate (YAY!), and are then pitted against each other in a catwalk show judged by fashion students. Jessica, with midget Hikari, will represent ‘school girl uniform fashion’. She says to camera that we don’t really have that kind of thing in Australia, because “Once you leave school, that’s pretty much it for the uniforms”. Oh yeah? Tell that to the contestants who have been eliminated already.

 Jess’s expert is concerned about her size. She doesn’t think she’s fat. She just thinks her head is way, way too far from the ground.

Like Godzirra.

After eliminating any clothing items that appear to be ‘too genius’, Jess ends up looking exactly like a school girl. Or maybe a Surry Hills hipster. I just can’t tell the difference between those crazy kids!


• Amanda will be representing ‘Japanese Gal Fashion’, ably assisted by Yunkoro. Yunkoro doesn’t know what the fuck that is, either. We soon find out, though. It means dressing up like a whore. PS: GIVE ME THOSE BOOTS.


• Sophie is ‘fairy fashion’, assisted by Yu By Kotex. After trying on “heaps of poofy skirts”, she ends up with plaits, legwarmers, a frilly skirt, and soft toys stapled all over her body and head. I’ll wait while you read that sentence again, and perhaps get it bronzed.


• Kelsey, assisted by midget Misako, will be representing ‘Lolita fashion’. Trust me on this – it’s awesome. Oh, it’s so awesome. They visit a shop called Baby The Stars Shine Bright, which Kelsey describes as “walking into a doll’s wardrobe”. I agree, as long as your dolls are Chucky and Bride of Chucky. Creeps me out, mama. She tries on every pink, high-collared, frilly dress in the world, but Misako has trouble deciding whether to top it all with bunny ears or Mary-of-Had-A-Little-Lamb fame’s lacy bonnet. She finally decides on the bunny ears, and a relieved Kelsey comments “If I’d got that bonnet, I would’ve felt like a bit of a fool”.

Because not looking like a fool is so hot right now.

• The modules go back to the studio for hair and make-up, and try to keep straight faces when they see each other in all their wacky finery. Kelsey says, responsibly, “We couldn’t really laugh, because we didn’t want to be offensive.

Being inoffensive: You're doing it wrong.

• After a quick bout of catwalk training including the glorious phrase “please jump like a rabbit at some point”, the girls flounce down the runway fuelled by Ritalin and the knowledge that it’s the best thing I’ve ever seen in my life. I’m still working out how to get urine and tears out of my couch cushions. Whilst the fashion students are voting, Yu By Kotex is subtitled: WE ARE WAITING FOR THE ELECTION RESULTS AND MY HEART IS COMING OUT OF MY MOUTH, and HOPEFULLY SOPHIE WILL WIN SO WE CAN HUG EACH OTHER. Careful, Yu By Kotex. You’re only little. She could totally swallow you whole.


• Amanda wins the challenge, because even dressed as a five dollar prostitute, the awesome shines like a beacon. Her prize is the bonnet. All the midgets cry when they have to say goodbye to the girls. I love this show.


Besties

• Can we talk about Sophie for a second? It took me a long, long time to warm to this girl. I don’t know if I was originally put off by her flesh-coloured mouth, her endless array of dresses with metal on them, her resin-coated shell-hair, or her inability to pronounce the letter ‘L’, but I’m going to say it – I kind of love her. And the reasons are these.


FLESHMOUTH – A TRIBUTE


Reason 1: Her head is consistently and utterly wrong.

No hat will help your hair. Not even Jake Elwood's.

Reason 2: Her mouth is consistently and utterly open.

Her dentist can give her a check-up from an adjacent suburb.

Reason 3: She doesn’t really fit in, but still manages to rock stuff, just like Jennifer Grey in Dirty Dancing.

I carried a watermelon.

Reason 4: All of her clothing has metal on it. All of it.

When Sophie dies, if she's buried with all her favourite dresses, the world will tilt.

Reason 5: This.

What the how.

Phoy-toys
The main thing you need to know about this week’s photo shoot is that Chest Smith is the photographer, and it’s humid enough for him to be wearing a singlet over his sweaty mounds.

Sigh.

• When Chest arrives at the scrags’ hotel, he tells them that they’ll be doing an avant-garde fashion shoot in the middle of Tokyo, and that they have to choose whether they wear the clothes, or the clothes wear them. It’s a pretty important decision, I think. Each shot is a long exposure, so the girls have to stay absolutely still, even staggering under the weight of the amazeballs outfits that Jason the stylist chooses for them.


• Sophie has high hair thanks to a pair of coiffure chopsticks, a black fur collar, and two thirds of her bazonks exposed (she can see into the future!). She looks incredible, although Chest says “she got confused with the idea of holding the pose” (because that shit is totally like calculus, man), and Jason says “We were on a pedestrian crossing, and she was pushing a little bit of a pedestrian pose” (because ZING!).


• Kelsey’s hair is piled atop her short head, and she wears a black dress with a massive fur collar. She kicks absolute arse. In a good way.


• Jess has to stand on top of a van in a dress I absolutely need to own in the next five minutes or I will die. She has trouble staying still, and doesn’t rock it as hard as she ought. She says to camera “If I don’t make it through to the top three, I’m gonna kill Jez”. Please reserve his pectorals for their rightful taxidermic place on my mantelpiece.


• Amanda has a fauxhawk with a white fur collar, an excellent attitude, and the gushing praise of photographer and stylist. Even though the resulting photo isn’t the pinnacle of her career so far, I still find it difficult to express how I feel about this girl. So I’m going to leave it to Barry Manilow. My platonic non-gay love for you wears a sequinned vest and an electric blue body shirt. Yes, it does.


• After the shoot, the girls decide to spend their last few hours in Tokyo visiting a wishing tree, which is actually quite emotional and gorgeous – they write wishes on pieces of paper and pin them to trees as part of the annual Tanabata festival. Jess tears up as she wishes for her family’s health, and Sophie claims that the ritual touched her heart. It’s pure. It’s calm. It’s dignified. It’s not interesting. I know it should be, but I’m momentarily distracted by the original settings on my phone.


Eliminationosity

Presumably again using the Star Trek transporter, the modules are suddenly back in the Sydney Eliminarium, all dressed as four year olds who get drunk and raid the dress-up box.


Saint Sarah, who only just makes it in time after a gig as guest speaker at the International See The Future Seminar, says “Konichiwa” and then introduces the judges. Guest judge is Doll Wright from Elite New York, Shiny Alex Perry clearly enjoyed last week’s shirt and tie so much that he’s had them glued on (like his sunglasses, years ago), Chest Smith can wear whatever he likes because he’s already been seen sweaty in a singlet, and Charlotte Dawson’s forehead is expecting to graduate from high school any day now.


Saint Sarah enunciates through the prizes, which I think this year include a sprig of parsley and a single ice skate, and then, together with the judges, gets on with the weekly task of shattering dreams. Photos are pored over and deliberation occurs, with more than enough nuggets of excellence to keep my sushi fresh:


• Charlotte, as impressed as everybody with Chest’s photographs, calls him a good boy and strokes his arm. GET OUT OF MY SUBCONSCIOUS, DAWSON.


• About Jess’s lesson photo, Charlotte comments “I just think your face is dead”. Hello, pot? Phone call for you. It’s the kettle.


• Sophie is wearing a tutu. Your argument is invalid.


• Of Sophie’s photos, Saint Sarah says “Oh my god. Is this the Avon lady Lego-head we had in the first episode?”. It’s episode NINE, Saint Sarah. WELCOME TO ZING-TOWN. Jez says “Lose the stiffness, and you’ll go all the way”. Charlotte adds “Even in that stupid outfit”. GET OUT OF MY SUBCONSCIOUS, DAWSON.


• Amanda’s photo isn’t popular, and Charlotte suggest that she “looks like a bloated baby swathed in fur”. Despite us all knowing exactly what that looks like, Shiny Alex Perry suggests that she’s being a bit harsh. When Perry suggests you’ve crossed a line, you’ve probably pretty much crossed a line.


• Dawson dubs Kelsey an ‘S.S.S.’, which apparently stands for “Sexy, Sultry, Shortass”. I dub Dawson an ‘S.P’, which stands for “Sarcastic Plastic”.


The girls file back in, and Saint Sarah calls out a whole two names until only Jess and Amanda remain. Jess is told that her photo is incredible, but that she may not be right for the market at the moment. Amanda learns that she had a great week, but a crap photo.


Two nanoseconds pass, and Jess is pushed off the cliff. Kersplash!


Bye, Jess. I’ll sincerely miss you. Make sure you remember to come over to my house for tequila shots and unnecessary sarcasm on your way out! No, seriously. Thursday good for you?

Next week, there's a fancy do, a magazine shoot, and we find out who the final two are. Lah-di-dah. Harpers Bazaar. One step closer to winning a car.

Australia's Next Top Westie Scrag Series Six #8

You know what life, this show, the modelling industry and tampons all have in common? There’s always strings attached. Just because cheese is made from angel tears doesn’t mean it isn’t packed full of fat. Just because it’s your birthday, it doesn’t mean you’ll win a modelling challenge. Just because you’re good at commercial shoots, it doesn’t mean you’ll be able to do editorial. And just because... well, I’m sure you’re familiar with the tampon thing. And if you’re not, then I’m guessing that watching girls swinging from a vine in a studio will remind you.


Buckle up your harness – it’s the ‘It Don’t Mean A Thing, It’s A Scrag On A String’ episode of Australia’s Next Top Model.

Skin-Tight Budget
What, you could only find a sixteen million dollar yacht for this week’s photo shoot, image scouts? Pffft.





Me Talky Proper And That
• In the Joanna-elimination aftermath, Sssophie says to camera “With Jo gone, there’s now only five of us. It feels so weird to even say that. Five”. Sssophie has never counted that high before.

• Shiny Alex Perry is concerned that the modules are not progressing as they should, saying “It’s week 8 of the competition – walks are meant to be perfect, and they’re not. And I think that’s a modern-day tragedy”. Yep. It’s right up there with global warming, oil spills and shrinking panda habitats. THIS IS NOT A CRYING PROBLEM, SHINY ALEX.

Learnment
• The scrags get an early morning Sarah Mail which mentions something about being in public. Jessica is nervous, saying “It sounds really scary to me, because I hate having lots of people staring at me”. Um… guess what happens when you’re a model, lovey? That’s like Cindy Sherman saying she doesn’t like self-portraits, or, for the lowbrow amongst you, like Charmyne Palavi saying she doesn’t like fake tans or UTIs. Sssophie, in turn, takes dictation for Captain Obvious, saying “Oh my god, they’re gonna be judging us”. An earthworm at the bottom of a compost heap in a rainy garden in Tasmania stops eating last week’s zucchini for a second, looks up and says “You think?!”.


• Josh Flinn, in highly necessary leather half-gloves, meets the girls at Swissotel and tells them that they’ll be taking part in a very public runway parade through the streets of Sydney. So basically they’ll be dressed up in flowiness and turbans and taking a five kilometre wander down to Circular Quay and back, stopping to pose at the traffic lights. This is only not awesome if you’ve just had a stroke, and even then you could still appreciate it with your one good eye. I love this show.

• Hidden away in a white van, watching, are “Covert Agents” Shiny Alex Perry and Uber-Model Anneliese Seubert, whose surname is pronounced “Soy-bert”, which makes me kind of want some dairy-free ice cream. There are ill-fitting shoes, stumbles, stacks, bad posture, Kelsey thinking that sitting on the ground is a catwalk pose, and massive, wincing amounts of pain. All of which means just one thing – hot, burning amazing. And a zinger or two:

o Anneliese about Kelsey: “Are they going to shuffle around so we don’t have to look at her the whole time?”. ZING!

o Shiny Alex about Kathryn, who walks like she’s chewing a Mintie with her buttocks: “She’s invented a new walk – she’s not doing the pony, she’s doing the camel!” KA-ZING-CHING!

o Shiny Alex calls Amanda “filler”. Anneliese says she’s “not bad enough to comment on, not good enough to notice”. IT BURRRRNS.

o When Kathryn changes into her own shoes, Shiny Alex disapproves, with “You don’t turn up to like, Christian Dior and say 'yeah thanks, but I’ve brought my own shoes with me”. WOULD YOU LIKE TO ZING ON A STAR.


o Anneliese thinks Kelsey looks bored, and says “You’ve got to have animation in your face, otherwise it’s so boring to look at”.

I see what you mean.

• After the modules return to the hotel, the Covert Agents get them to walk up and down the room, giving them a technique critique. Now, I know that watching girls who have just walked for two hours outdoors keep walking indoors may sound interesting, but I’m momentarily distracted by the surname ‘Smith’.

• Back at the house, the girls soak their poor, tired, blistered feet and discuss the pain. On the phone, Jess tells her boyfriend “I swear to god, the blisters on my feet are like little moons. Little moons doing their little... what do moons do?” Her boyfriend helpfully offers: “Orbit”. “Orbit!”, cries Jess. “They’re like moons orbiting my feet!”. If that’s true, I think they may have picked up some aliens along the way, because… um…

That shit ain't right.

• About two seconds later, the Best Editors In The World offer a useful comparison.

Just like a blister.

Challenged
• This week’s challenge happens at B2 studios (named after Josh’s previous career as a fruit), which excites Jess because they have heated toilet seats. Bitch totally has her priorities in order. The girls are met by Monty Noble’s teeth, followed immediately by the rest of Monty Noble, who will be directing a print campaign for Platinum by Kotex, which is a fancy way of saying 'tampons'. Josh says some stuff, but he’s wearing acid-wash, so I can’t hear him over the sound of my eyes screaming. The winner of the challenge will get national exposure, ensuring that they will henceforth be known as ‘That Tampon Girl’.

• Can I just say, right, that I’m not entirely sure that swinging on a vine suspended from the ceiling is a far-enough-away visual in an ad for tampons from the whole tampons-have-strings thing. Aaaand now I’ll stop saying ‘tampon’.

• The set and every single girl looks utterly gorgeous, and despite it being difficult to hang on to the vine and look glamorous, everybody manages to.

o Kelsey rocks it. Kelsey does this with almost irritating frequency.

o Monty tells Kathryn, whose 21st birthday it is today, that it might be a nice birthday present for her if she won the challenge. A national print campaign forever associating her with periods? I think maybe she’d prefer a car.

o The hanging-on strain shows on Jess’s face, Sophie gets a long blonde wig to wear, and Amanda can’t keep the vine steady. She says “I’m trying to like, jerk it around, but it just wasn’t happening for me”.
Okay, so:
a) If I had a dollar for every time I’ve said that, I could buy Kathryn a car; and
b) When you say that, it’s perhaps best not to do this at the same time.

Make no mistake. I'm talking about penis.

• Kelsey wins the challenge. Happy Birthday, Kathryn!


Besties
• When Amanda isn’t being awesome or talking about crapping herself, she’s generally just using the phrase “a big wet fish to the face”. After Joanna was eliminated last week, she left just that – a big wet fish – in Amanda’s bed. SHE’S THE CODFATHER, YOU GUYS. Kelsey dutifully slaps herself in the face with it, partly because I made that joke.

I'm gonna make you a snapper you can't refuse.

• If Sssophie doesn’t become a fashion model, she should still be able to find work as the inspiration for a line of inflatable life-partners. Just saying.

Or maybe one of those amusement park clowns you put ping-pong balls into. In like, a non-Thailand kind of way.

• For Kathryn’s birthday, the modules go out to The Rum Diaries for a drink, dressed as the girls from Robert Palmer’s Addicted To Love video.

Your lights are awwwwn. But you're not hooooome.

Robert Palmer is nowhere to be found, but in my industrious and glamorous research for this excellent, non-lame joke, I did find something spooky.

TELL ME THAT'S NOT KATHRYN.

Phoy-toys
• The morning after their night out, the girls lounge around the Module Mansion, when Kelsey narrates “We were all sitting ‘round, and we heard a bit of a ring!”. Yeah, that happens to me after drinking rum, too. Pardon me. It turns out to be a Sarah Mail with a quote from Coco Chanel in it. Everyone has heard of Coco Chanel, which makes me kind of miss Brittney at this point. I’m sure she would have been excited, because Coco Chanel is totally her favourite breakfast cereal.

• The photo-shoot this week is all about high-end labels on a posh yacht, supervised by Saint Sarah and photographed by Georges Antoni, who maintains this series’ general theme of Photographer Hotness, albeit in miniature form. Our scrags rock up to the wharf ready to wear designs by Armani, Gucci, Hermes, Bally and Burberry, and if any of those designers are watching, they are doing so with dread. Because of this.

• I learned a lot about high-end fashion during this shoot, namely:
o That high-end fashion shoots haven’t changed one bit since I used to flick through my mother’s copies of Vogue;
o That slicked-back buns are not everyone’s friend; and
o That rich women sure do like to wear brown.

• Jess wears Bally and looks amazing during the shoot, but not so much in the final photographs.

• Amanda, despite feeling desperately seasick (and may I thank you for that image of her retching, darling editors), completely rocks her shit backwards sprawled on the deck in a ruched Burberry number and thigh-high boots. Georges asks her to imagine she’s a “snake, like an S-bend”. High-falutin’ fashion shoot? Just pretend you’re a toilet.

• In an eleven-thousand-dollar Hermes frock, Kathryn does her usual trick of being completely and suddenly dribble-worthily stunning as soon as she’s in the lens. I’m going to say it, and I’m going to hate myself for it, but – THE CAMERA LOVES HER.


• Sssophie, she who hates her short hair because she thinks it makes her look masculine, is given an Armani men’s-style suit to wear, because this show can drink tequila out of my belly button any time it likes. She says to camera that she needs to find the balance between strength and being “fenimum”. Truth be told, she completely kicks the shoot’s ever-lovin’ arse, right between the buttocks. A bonus?

I TOTALLY FOUND ROBERT PALMER.

• Kelsey doesn’t do so well in her Gucci dress, having trouble getting the right kind of expression into her face and eyes. Both Sarah and Georges call her ‘blank’, and tell her she looks like she’s in an 80s catalogue. Guys. Seriously. She’s got slicked back hair, big earrings, and a leopard-print dress with big shoulders, buckles and a pencil skirt. She’s an 80s catalogue folded up in the pocket of a Choose Life t-shirt next to a Walkman playing a ‘Best Of The 80s’ cassette.

Eliminationosity
It’s finally arse-kicking time again, and the scrags gather in the Eliminarium, where they’re met by Saint Sarah, who only just makes it in time after distributing Band-Aids to patients in the Blisters That Are Totally Like Orbiting Moons Ward at St Vincent’s. She rattles through the prizes, which I think this year include a USB stick and a handful of grapes, and then introduces the judges. Guest judge Anneliese Seubert is there, as is Alex Perry, dressed in all black. YOU’LL NEVER BE A NINJA, ALEX, YOU’RE TOO SHINY. Chest Smith loses points for not having enough buttons undone on his shirt, but wins some back for clinginess. Charlotte Dawson raises her eyebrows at the girls – no mean feat when you have barely any movement in your face. Her secret lies in clenching her buttocks at just the right moment.

Photos are poked through and the judges deliberate, with a smattering of topsness:

• Shiny Alex invents two new superlatives in the TOUCHDOWN hierarchy, being “Expensive to the extreme”, and “Expensive in a league of its own”. Stay tuned next week, when he comes up with “Expensive times a billion plus one turbo”.

• About Jessica’s yacht shot, Shiny Alex remarks “That’s just not the angle for your head. You look like a little turtle poking out of its shell”. Yeah. Around my house, that’s a euphemism for poo. He adds “And I say that in the cutest way possible”. Yeah. Still about poo.

• When Kathryn’s amazing shot is flashed up on the screen, Charlotte says “Holy shit, I’m gonna swear!”. But she never does.

• The judges ignore the fact that Sophie has worn yet another chain dress (meaning she has two, which is like, three too many), and instead praise her hair. As Dawson says “I wouldn’t usually recommend that a young lady go out and get a shag, but that’s what you’ve done”.

• Of Sophie’s blokey suit shot, Shiny Alex comments that “It’s the most fabulous stiffness that I’ve ever seen in my life”. IT IS THE MOST FABULOUS STIFFNESS THAT HE HAS EVER SEEN IN HIS LIFE. And you know what this is?










 That is me leaving that comment the Fuck. Alone.


The scrags return to the room, and Saint Sarah doles out photos until only Kelsey and Kathryn remain. Yes. The two girls who performed the best in the challenge. The moral to this story is: Don’t do well if you’re swinging on a vine in a long frock advertising feminine hygiene products. Because I know you were about to. TAKE HEED.


Kathryn is told she takes great photographs, but that her walk is fifteen kinds of wrong. Kelsey learns that she is living in a material world, but she’s not an editorial girl.

Three luxury yachts pass, and Kathryn is pushed off the cliff. HAPPY BIRTHDAY, KATHRYN!

Bye, pretty girl. Mind your shoe doesn’t fall off on your way ou… oh.




Next week, the modules are off to Japan. Like, in a plane and everything. Fly. High. Kanpai!

We're On A Road To Mudgee #5

Day One Part Four



In which tasty things keep arriving every few minutes.

The first thing I need to say about Bishop’s Court is that you should drop everything (unless you’re holding a child, in which case you should place it down gently and call a babysitter) and go stay there. As the name suggests to anyone with a basic command of English, it’s the former residence and chapel of churchy folk, and hence has history, grandeur and stateliness oozing from every blessed brick.


The People Under The Steeple
Our hosts David and Christine are two of the warmest, most relaxed and wonderful collections of cells you’ll ever come across, with the added skill of being uncannily able to guess whose bags belong to whom. That may not sound like much, but I’m sure Charlotte was pleased to find that all the glamorous accessories and top-shelf skin and hair products had been delivered to her room, whilst all the cotton-polyester blends and sarcasm had been deftly placed in mine. We also met Amy, whose handy collection of skills include website design and concocting delicious foody morsels, and Louie the photographer guy, who was there to take some photos for the Bishop’s Court website and generally be a top bloke. We were told that Liz and Tony from Vale Creek wines would also be joining us for dinner, and matching wines to each course. Hint: this kind of information is excellent.


And On The Fifth Day, God Created Special.

Every flat surface in Bishop’s Court, whether horizontal or vertical, is covered with curios, art, knick-knacks, candles and reading material, yet the whole place retains an air of calm relaxation, with a bit of something-awesome-is-about-to-happen mixed in. And, it’s fair to say, something awesome always did.

Our bedrooms, Charlotte’s with an ensuite and mine with an incredible private bathroom just down the hall (“I’ll just turn your heated towel rack on”, says Christine. “My head just exploded”, responds Jo), were each decorated in the same this-is-what-they-mean-when-they-say-relaxed-luxury manner. A stunning building-length balcony roughly the size of my house reached between the two rooms, which is a lovely place to have a post-dinner wine, if you’re so inclined. Charlotte and I were so inclined we could have been a tower in Pisa.

Downstairs, exactly where you’d expect to find a welcoming crackling fireplace and a gin and tonic, you’ll never, ever guess what we found. No, go on. Guess.
Wow. You’re smart.

We also found two Burmese cats called Chocolat and Latte. Bet you didn’t guess that. That’s one thing we’re learning in the country – people name their pets after drinks.

The taste and attention to detail (and also the cats) follows through to the massive garden, where candles, statuettes and sunshine calmly compete for attention. Bishop’s Court hosts corporate events and weddings out in the garden, and may also expect to host my arse on one of their garden benches for the rest of time, if they’ll have me.

Cookery In The Rookery
Okay, so I don’t know what a rookery is, but I think it’s churchy and it rhymes, so it’ll do. Make no mistake – if it was possible to steal a kitchen, I’d be in jail right now.

Charlotte and I doubled over with kitchen envy (which is totally a medical condition – look it up) as soon as we walked in. To call it a commercial kitchen would be to deny the space its homey warmth and chicly designed edge. To just call it a home kitchen would be like calling Madame Tussaud a candle-maker. We also doubled over with foody lust (which is probably also a medical condition, and I have a chronic case) when we heard what was in store for us. Christine explained that she and Amy were cooking an Asian-themed degustation menu just for us. There has been no finer sentence uttered in the history of time. Also, if you ever want to pop on a chef’s jacket and pretend you’re making a soufflé out of whiskey and air, this is totally the place to do it.

Dinners For Sinners.

The absolute hands-down winner of my-jaw-hit-the-floor feature of Bishops Court is the converted-chapel dining room, complete with preacher’s pulpit (where Charlotte took it upon herself to give a brief gastronomic sermon), organ (Pfffft! I said ‘organ’), and approximately forty-five thousand candles, which roughly equals one candle for every wine glass.

Once we were seated, an astounding array of magnificent food and wine was stylishly plonked in front of us. I think I’ll let the dishes speak for themselves, because lord knows my mouth is full.

Peking Duck pancakes with hoisin reduction

Sugar cane prawn with dipping sauce

Betel leaf prawn with mirin dressing, coconut and peanut

Gyoza with ponzu sauce

Tom Kha Goong soup

Prawns with snow peas, scallops with garlic beans and (not pictured, but certainly digested) barbecue pork.

Of course, on Sunday morning, we just had a casual breakfast of local coffee, muesli with stewed fruits, and local bacon with pesto tomatoes, spinach and poached eggs. Expanding waistlines never, ever had it so good.

 

She really is a morning person.

We couldn’t possibly have had a more incredible time at Bishop’s court, and the sterling people there didn’t seem relieved or exhausted at all once we’d left.

Y'know. Much.