I Totally Love This Show

For those of you who watch America's Next Top Model, I’m preaching to the choir and for those of you who don’t watch, you are seriously missing out on what has become the most entertaining hour on television. I’m not here to recap the individual episodes, Rich on fourfour and Potes at Television Without Pity do a more than capable job of that on a weekly basis. I’m merely here to sing the praises of Miss Tyra Banks’ ridiculous reality contest.

Now in its eighth “cycle,” which is Tyra-speak for Season, this show has gone from being a semi-credible, highly watch-able modelling contest and morphed into what almost seems like a sketch comedy version of itself. For something that takes itself very seriously, this is the most laugh-out-loud hour of TV on the dial (those of you born after 1980 are all like the what?).

The idea of the show is pretty self explanatory. Tyra and her panel of experts are searching for America’s Next Top Model. Simple enough, except that the winner never really does any modelling and simply sinks into reality TV obscurity. The most famous winner went on to marry a Brady and humiliate herself on other reality shows but otherwise, the winners, after winning their $100,000 contract with an agency and their spread in Seventeen/Jane/Marie Claire are never seen again (except on later episodes of the show when they show up and talk about their exciting careers in modelling). There have been exceptions such as Cycle 3’s Toccara Jones, the plus sized girl who ate chicken in bed has probably done the most visible modelling work. From the same season, Ann Markley, the girl who was a little too attached to some of her competition (“I swear to God, you’ll, like, be in my wedding.”) has worked as a real model in the actual industry as well. Also, Cycle 1’s Elyse Sewell (one of the best people ever to appear on a reality show, Elyse the God-doubting, whip-smart, nerd/cool chick has the distinction of introducing me to The Shins before Natalie Portman told everybody else that they’d change their lives) who blogged and modelled her way through Asia continues to work.

Every show is basically the same. The “models” all live in a garish apartment (in the early cycles) and house that is usually smothered in gigantic pictures of past winners or (in the last few “cycles) with an alarming predominance of pictures of Tyra and only Tyra everywhere the eye can see. The house is where the girls live, sleep and bitch about and at each other.

In every episode they learn the ins and outs of the modelling world from experts chosen by Tyra. In past episodes these experts have included the hilariously plastic Janice Dickinson. Janice, the self proclaimed “World’s First Supermodel” was actually a judge for the first bunch of cycles. During the judging panel, when looking at the hopefuls’ pictures, she has given models constructive criticism such as, “"You look like you escaped from a mental institution. Your arms look amputeed. Your legs look amputeed. And you appear to have a penis.” And “You look like the batteries in your vibrator just died.”

We’ve also met the Jays. There is a Mr. Jay, Jay Manuel, a makeup artist and fashion stylist who directs fashion shoots. He is there to “help” the models during shoots and this bleached blonde, orange skinned, badly dressed Tanorexic is one of the biggest bitches to ever bitch and even if he does “smell like cupcakes,” there really is very little to redeem him. The other J, Miss J, J. Alexander, showed up originally to teach the girls to “walk.” Miss J has taken that gig (and his presumed first career as a drag queen) and parlayed it into a judgeship alongside Tyra and the rest. He’s basically a waste of a good position in the judging room and together, the Jays are pretty much useless and annoying.

The other judges are “legendary fashion icon” Twiggy and fashion photographer, Nigel Barker. Twiggy, woefully miscast in this mess, takes her judgeship seriously and offers valid and constructive criticism and encouragement to the models and is obviously so on the wrong show. She should be judging a real modelling competition where the models will model afterwards. Nigel can barely hide his horniness and oozes a certain greasy charm that these girls seem to eat up (until Cycle 7’s winner CariDee English said he had a stick up his ass and Nigel became as bitchy as either Jay).

When I think about this show’s intended audience, which is probably tween girls, I have to pause and think of all the damage Tyra, who thinks she’s being Oprah, is doing to the young minds out there. Having modelling as a viable career option for most is a pipe dream and Tyra makes it seem like its possible for everyone as long as you’re fierce and you love yourself enough. Who knows how this will play out when today’s nine-year-old viewer becomes tomorrow’s eighteen-year-old model wannabe with a bad case of acne, too much self esteem and a portfolio of really bad “modelling” shots? Not a pretty thought but hopefully, by then, the show will still be on and in its 27th “Cycle.”

If I haven’t made it clear that there is comedy gold in them (formerly UPN) CW hills, I’ll leave you with two of the best Reality TV rants to ever be seen. The first one is from Cycle 4 and is given by Tyra to Tiffany “Bitch poured beer on my weave” Richardson after she has been kicked off. Apparently, Tiffany didn’t cry and whine enough after her defeat so Tyra had to let her have it.



The next one is from lovely Elyse Sewell. After dealing with stupidity for too long, she lost it in the diary room in what is one of my favourite TV moments of all time. This is basically how I see myself or most of the people I know reacting to being on a reality show and for her candid moments, I will always adore Elyse. The clip is the best quality I could find so sorry for the synching problems.