Skirts and Giggles


CNTM: She makes me want to vomit by Alison
June 18, 2009, 6:06 pm
Filed under: Canada's Next Top Polite Anorexic

It’s only week 4, and I am so sick of that horrible “Na na na na na NA NA” theme song, although I suppose it’s appropriate, given the elementary schoolyard maturity levels that some of these girls have. So. They’re still bitching about Maryam’s passport thing, probably because Maryam is better than the rest of them and they know it and want her out of there. Then Nikita accuses Rebecca of being “not quite all there”, which is funny, considering the train wreck that is Nikita. So Rebecca is nervous and tired and just wants to talk to her dad on the phone. Don’t be a jerk just because the girl doesn’t look like a piece of Lego wearing a wig, Nikita.

I guess nothing interesting ever happens around the house, which is why we’re treated to boring montages of workouts and breakfast. Finally, J-Mail. Something about how they’re going to have to talk, which leads to multiple confessions of social anxiety disorder. Seriously? You people signed up to be on reality tv! Forgive me if I find your claims a little disingenuous.

The editing in this episode is demented. Nikita says she’s not ashamed of her anxiety disorder, “but some people are” (probably people with enough brains not to go on reality shows), and suddenly the camera cuts to Rebecca with an ominous “DUN!” I’m confused. And bored. And now they’re in a high school auditorium with Karl Lagerfeld’s muse Irina Lazereanu, who tries to convince the girls that just walking into a high school is an accomplishment. Apparently she was a freak in high school. Of course she was. But she has more advice: “If you’re a freak, be a freak. Don’t be afraid of that.” Thanks, Irina. Why does anyone let supermodels talk?

Now all the girls introduce themselves and pretend they’re not nervous. It’s cute, until Nikita and Meaghan start whispering that Rebecca makes them want to throw up. I expect this stupidity from Nikita, but Meaghan! You’re from Winnipeg! I’m extremely disappointed in you, young lady.

The girls are assigned a script to memorize and we’re treated to the best thing to happen in this cycle so far: an Excuse Montage of each of the girls stating why they are going to be terrible at this little public speaking assignment. A bunch of somewhat legitimate concerns (“I have social anxiety disorder” [we went over this]; “English is my second language”; “I’m terrible at public speaking”) and then Nikita (of course): “I’m dyslexic.” So you’ll…pronounce the words backwards? You’re really one to talk about other people making you want to vomit, Nikita. Anyway, since this is insecure little Canada, none of the girls think they’re going to win this challenge. Aw. At least they’re self aware – they’re all burlap-clad (yeah, they have to wear burlap sacs for some reason) bundles of nerves and they’re all pretty terrible. Surprisingly Heather is the best. High-pitched, but sweet.

By the way, as amusing as it is to dress pretty girls in burlap sacs, I wish this show would showcase Canadian designers.

Back at the house, there’s some manufactured drama with rearranged sleeping arrangements – all the beds are crammed closer together or something and Nikita is throwing a hissyfit because she doesn’t want to sleep next to Rebekkah.

Cruelly, the show sends the girls for skin analysis so they have even more reasons to freak out and compare themselves to each other. And so that the show can do some more awkward product placement.

A stylized photo shoot where they have tape over their mouths. Why can’t that tape be permanent? More manufactured Everybody Hates Rebekkah drama. Rebekkah cries a bunch and might be having a panic attack. Nikita continues to be a total asshole. I’m glad they gave her an ugly haircut. It suits her personality.

Fine. Nikita’s picture is good. But it’s an exact copy of her great shot from two weeks ago. And she’s still an asshole. And Maryam, Linsay, Heather, and Meaghan’s photos are all better. Predictably, Tara goes home. It’s getting harder and harder to like the girls who are left.

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