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March 09, 2006

I Am The Undiscovered Supermodel!

One of two things is happening in Jade’s – the biracial butterfly – world right now.

Either this: After last night’s showing which may be the first time she’s ever seen herself for her true self, her stomach is killing her. She has no appetite. She rolls her eyes at the thought of watching that painful episode again. She is decidedly staying indoors for like, three weeks (it happens) so she is opening the menu drawer to be sure there are enough choices even though she’ll be snacking on an old avocado and drinking only tiny sips of water during this hibernation. She is definitely sad. And she is bracing herself for the 7 or 8 weeks to come before she finally gets a good edit or, actually and just gets kicked off the show. This, my friends, is a good thing. She needs this emotional bruising in order to come up for air and be a whole person again. In a way, this temporary funk is a blessing because only after she annoys herself to the point of wanting to change, can she join us all and be regular and likeable.

Or this: She is like, yeah girl, that’s me. And in spoken word form she says all of the following. I’m repping for Philly, for New York, for all the beautiful biracial butterflies whose wings have been torn and damaged. As a biracial lovely, I too, have experienced the degradation of the lack of appreciation for my metamorphosisssssss (echo). I have been shut out of the modeling industry for too long. But now, I am here. My body is banging (beats a bongo for three beats). My face is just too gorgeous (pauses, bats eyelashes and snaps neck a good time or two) and I am here, y’all (somebody off stage zips through some chimes). This is my discovery. This is my revelation. She takes a bow, and theatrically she will go wrap her “good” hair and write a poem about it. Lights incense cone, sits in front of her window, stares out at New York City and says out loud to herself in soliloquy, “The world is mine…” and she plays a jazz record because she’s the type to have a record player with a fresh needle and everything.

If this is happening, well then, it will be Tyra in the end that does what we all would love to do. In hushed tones, when Tyra no longer has any more photos to disperse, she will say, “Jade, you’re a beautiful girl but you have been told too many times that you are arrogant and you don’t think you have anything to learn, when in reality, your ego gets in the way of the one thing you need to do, which is to learn from all of the amazing professionals I have afforded you the opportunity to meet because I’m awesome…” Or Tyra will just whisper-read a fortune from a cookie and give her a hug goodbye while the other girls look on like “fuck yessssss” but they’ll betray themselves and give her a hug goodbye anyway. Then in her exit interview by the door she’ll say that this is only the beginning, that we haven’t seen the last of her. And we’ll see her in a T.I. video or something, but whatever.

Oh Jade. Who, I say, who shows up to a model show without seeking the consulation and services of Damone “The Eyebrow King” Roberts? Who?

Now, onto the racist homophobe Dani. See, Dani was too stupid to see that she does not have the face of a model and having said that she was only brought this far to be made the fool. And she took that fool card and ran with it. Interesting how, in the absence of the black lady that created this here show, she was just balls out with her shit. Fuck affirmative action. Fuck black people. But then when in the face of both Tyra and Miss J, she’s like “I just did that for show…” Oh really bitch? And furthermore, are there really still people, young people at that, in America that don’t like gay people? Do they exist? That is just bizarre to me. I knew she would never make it because her face is forgettable. I knew she was only on because Next Top Model was lacking the racism discussion (that I must say I love so much). And luckily for her, she has a forgettable face because I can’t flick small pebbles at the head of a girl whose face I can’t remember.

I was reminded of my vow to never watch the show again during the Cover Girl commercials. Nicole. Well, I lied. This show doesn’t stop. It is just a great show, can’t help it. I am still angry that Nicole won last time, but at least someone gave her some speaking lessons. Her voice doesn’t grate as badly as it once did, however, she is still not the winner to me and I refuse to concede on that.

I am always wrong with my predictions (or the show is always wrong in choosing the winner) but it’s obviously between Nnenna and Mollie (I refuse to add the Sue). I like both of them. Mollie* (Go Tampa!) is very pretty, old for modeling, but very pretty and she has a Claire Danes understated quality about her. I like the fact that she has shown very little personality. I don’t want to get to know her any better. I just want her to model because I like looking at her. And if she starts talking and I end up disliking her, that will be very sad for me because I have very little to work with this season.

*EDITED TO ADD EFFECTIVE 04.05.06: Tonight Mollie was voted off, and in these last couple episodes I have gotten to understand her personality and she DOES have one, Tyra. To keep Jade, Furonda and Leslie Chicken Mc Duck Butt over Mollie is just plain insane. And to further exemplify that I am out of my mind, I sent Mollie an email telling her she was the bomb. She went to high school in my hometown. She'll never get my email, but still, the good intentions were sent forward and I hope she is somewhere happy. I take back that she is old for modeling even though 25 isn't really the age you jump into it but Jade is 57 so whatever. Mollie is hot. I am outraged.

Nnenna is insane! Her picture on UPN’s website doesn’t do the real her justice, I don’t think. Gorgeous face, gorgeous skin, gorgeous accent. Great teeth -- are they real? Great set of boobs --again, are they real? During the bald photo shoot, they did a close up of her torso up and her boobs looked really round and perky and not real, but nice nonetheless. I also think she could rock being bald for real. Maybe that’s what they’ll do to her. And she better not cry about it either. She’s just a model and that’s that.

I like Brooke. I don’t care what anybody says. I like Brooke. At my America’s Next Top Model Premiere Party Extravaganza last night – yes, I had a party – no one liked her but I see it. She reminds me of another model whose always in the Victoria’s Secret and Newport News catalogs. Big nose, olive skin, really pretty. What is her name?

I also like the blonde with the tiny nose and the big lips. Kari? The lips seem exaggerated downward on one side, but I think she’s a very cute girl with an interesting face. She’ll never win, but I like her.

I have no words for Gina. I have no words for Gina. Beats bongo two times. No. Words. For. Gina. But my friend says she looks, strangely, like an asian Elvis. And thanks to that comment, I have vodka mixed with juice box drink floating around in my facial cavity -- still! I know exactly where Gina lives too. Odessa, FL. It's basically really rich suburban Tampa. I had a boyfriend that lived there once. Damn that was a drive. It's by the rich people mall too.

Sara looks exactly like my friend Gay Cock Suck – it was so distracting. GCS might be prettier than her actually. But they do share some similarities. And if she has the word fabulous in turquoise bubble letters tattooed across her stomach, then the resemblance is uncanny.

Everybody else? Meh. Somebody’s got to go home every week.

Oh, and to Kathy, the girl that went home last night. Yeah, sorry, but you had to go. And stop dropping it like it’s hot. It’s not hot. At the top of the show when they show the girls for the first time interacting with each other and then move to a still photo or a clip of their lives pre-show that we, the viewers don’t give a shit about, me and all my friends were saying YES or NO or whatever came to mind first. Sometimes it was “not a model” or “never gonna make it” and for this girl, it was “runs a meth lab…” so there you go. Auf wiedersehen, m’fucker, auf wiedersehen.

(No, I can’t talk about Project Runway just yet. I’m not ready.)

Posted by melissah at March 9, 2006 03:24 PM