America's Next Top Model is threatening to derail both my personal and professional life. The kids are home from school today, so I rented a movie for them to keep them quiet while I work.
And I'm watching America's Next Top Model Season 3...again.
My God, how many ANTM marathons can MTV run? Not that I'm complaining...I can't get enough of that shiz!
In the beginning of the show they torture all these gangly, anorexic and frankly, homely girls by putting 20 something of them in an apartment to fight it out for a spot in the top 13. It's awesome...lots of tears and drama. Very catty, very fun to watch.
"That bitch is so fat. Does she really think there's a place for a plus size model in this competition?"
And she wears a size 2 and her parttime job is binging and purging.
Then, once a half dozen have been sent packing (sobbing...in disbelief that Tyra overlooked their true inner beauty), the real show begins.
At some point early in each season, the girls are treated to a full makeover. There's highlights and coloring, hair flying, weaves weaving.
And more tears.
Do you know what I would give to have Louis Vicari hack away at my do? And professional makeup artist treat my face as a blank canvas (albeit a wrinkly one)?
Puh-lease. Shut it up and get back to puking already.
Each week the show starts with the girls competing for a "prize"...a bag of makeup from CVS or some such crap. They usually look all nappy and natural...no makeup and hair in a pony tail. Once a challenge winner has been chosen, the next 20minutes are devoted to the rest of girls tearing her to shreds.
But then the real modeling contest starts. A team of professionals descends on each girl and they're transformed into birds, animals, dead people...whatever. It's freakin' amazing! Makes me think that the only thing that stood between me and a modeling career is a pallet of clown makeup.
Anyway, once the photographer has each models' best shot, the images go to the photoshop department where they're altered so much that you can no longer identify which girl you're looking at.
The final glossies then make their way to Tyra and the most fabulous drag queen on the planet, Miss J, to be judged. There's usually a couple of other judges, but the two queens are the ones that count.
Then, my absolute favorite part...when Tyra's decision is handed down.
"Ten girls stand before me. And I only have nine pho-tos in my hands."
The tension, the suspense, the tears...