It’s the end of America’s Next Top Model for another season. I know you’ve been waiting to see who won, Persephoneers. You can’t spell “anticipation” without the words “Titanic piano.” I am even now playing a swan song on my Yamaha keyboard as this ship o’ moddles sinks into the icy depths of the North Banks-lantic. Who will drown? Who will stay afloat thanks to the enormous amounts of liquor they’ve consumed?
Well, I’m the one floating in booze. And soon we’ll know if Molly or Brittani will be crowned and elected and anointed AMERICA’S NEXT TOP MODEL!
At top of show, Molly told us once again about being adopted. She feels she can inspire other abandoned girls to succeed… as long as they are beautiful and statuesque, I assume. Fat, pimply girls, forget it. You were abandoned for good reason.*
Brittani felt like she is more high fashion than Molly. Molly said that Brittani’s good runway walk won’t matter if she takes &*%@y pictures. Brittani called Molly a stupid doo-doo head. Molly wrote “Brittani fuckn sux” on Brittani’s Facebook wall. It got ugly.
Tyramail brought the cryptic message of “Sahel, Khafif, Zoulnah” to our doo-doo head contestants. What does it mean?! It’s a big mystery, like why no one has figured out that a cute haircut isn’t actually an acting skill. Zooey Deschanel, I’m looking at you.
The next day, Molly and Brittani took a few minutes to speak with Ivan Bart, SVP of IMG Models so he could “get to know them better,” which is corporate code for “figure out which one is least likely to snort dunes of coke and cause someone to sue us.” The conversations were riveting. Molly talked about her gap teeth when she was younger. Brittani said she’d make the big sacrifice of moving to Milan for her modeling. Wow. I wonder if she’d let them pay her a lot of money, too? What a giver.
But of course, the real reason they were there was to shoot the Cover Girl commercial and print ad. The featured product was Cover Girl’s Lip Perfection Lip Color that comes in forty-four shades, which Mr. Jay Manuel told us about in a very, very, very unscripted way. I can only assume Cover Girl’s Lip Perfection Lip Color makes your lips look perfect. You heard it here first.
Molly was about as natural in the commercial as Mr. Jay. Brittani sounded like she was reading a laundry list written by Don Draper. But at least I learned that in a single stroke, rich color will rock my lips. I’m not sure I want my lips rocked. That sounds like they’re getting stoned, and not in the good way.
Their photographer was none other than Pierpaolo Ferrari, who wore a Smurf hat.
He also photographed them the following day, for the Vogue Italia shoot. Of course, only the winner of ANTM will actually appear in the magazine. The other will cry in her low-fat Cheerios.
Brittani tried to relax and bring out her inner moddle, or in her words, “Letting me do me.” I don’t think it’s very appropriate to “do” yourself right there in the middle of a photo shoot, but maybe that’s why my career with Literary Hussies Weekly was so short lived.
Our other little princess was super annoyed at having to go second. And she was cold. And the floor was hard! Yes, Molly put the “obnoxious, spoiled model” in annoying. Oh, wah wah I’m in an amazing Moroccan villa being pampered by minions and having my picture taken! Life was sure tough for Molly, who was experiencing her very own Trail of Tears.
Even Pierpaolo Ferrari’s second, blue Smurf hat could not save him from Captain “Molly” Bringdown.
That evening, the Molly got a visit from her adoptive parents. Poor Brittani’s mom suffers from an anxiety disorder and is recovering from back surgery, so she wasn’t able to make the trip to Marrakesh. Brittani got pretty broken up about it, but felt a bit better when she video chatted with her mom. If she is able to be a successful model, Brittani says she wants to care for her mom so she doesn’t have to scrub floors any more. Awwww! Team Brittani!
THE FINAL CHALLENGE!
The models were to walk in a fashion show to take place in a sixteenth century palace! America doesn’t have many of those, for all the people living here in the sixteenth century weren’t big on palaces per se, and were quickly wiped out by the arriving Europeans anyhow. Speaking of, the fashion show would promote Vivienne Westwood’s new clothing line, Anglomania.
Some of the discarded moddles from this season (Kasia, She-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, Hannah) walked with Molly and Brittani. Also, Cycle 15 winner Ann was in the house! I always liked Ann. I like anyone so obviously goofy.
A hush fell over the crowd. The moon rose. Nerves jangled. The editors piped in deep-sounding music. The atmosphere was reverent, exactly like I imagine a fashion show not to be.
They walked. In a straight line. Wearing neat clothes.
Yup, that’s pretty much it. It’s a fashion show — nobody cured cancer.
Brittani and Molly did a tandem walk last. Brittani slipped on the decorative rose petals adorning the floor and wiped out, hard. It looked and sounded painful, for she lurched straight into a wooden cabinet. After that, they had to go out and walk again for the finale. Brittani’s ankle was down for the count (ouch), but she bandaged it up, wiped off her tears, and plastered on a smile.
Ty Ty was conflicted, y’all. Who would she choose? She decided to make the models change looks for panel. Why? I don’t know. It’s a mystery, like what “Sahel, Khafif, Zoulnah” means. (Maybe they explained this, but I don’t actually pay too much attention to the show when I’m blogging it. I’m just figuring out how to throw in a fart pun in order to toot my own horn. GET IT?)
Their new looks? LIGHTNING QUICK PIXIE CUTS.
Didn’t see that coming. Well played, Ty Ty.
Brittani’s runway was critiqued pretty favorably, especially her wipeout recovery, except for the fact that she broke “v. serious moddle character” a couple of times to giggle. In the commercial, Brittani’s angles were complimented, as was her perky enthusiasm. Her Cover Girl image was stunning, and she really sold the lipstick. I personally have some serious (old) hair envy right about now.
They said Molly shook a little when she walked, which is not good, apparently. Molly’s commercial was called “mean girl.” There was little charm, and too much edge. However, Andre Leon Talley said he wanted to put her Cover Girl picture in the salon, it was so beautiful.
All hail Queen Brittani!
I hope she can succeed and help herself and her mom. And I’m probably gonna go buy that Cover Girl lipstick she wore in the ad. DAMN YOU, CONSUMER CULTURE!
Until our next bloody lady cycle of ANTM, blog friends, I bid you adieu! May you have many model-ey moments yourself, just not ones in which you slam into furniture.
*Speshul thanks to Xanadudie, who is my nefarious writing partner, for her contribution to tonight’s blog! She watched ANTM for the very first time yesterday evening just for me. When asked about the experience, she commented, “They do pay you for this, right? Hazard pay?”