The Return of Fierce. That`s Right, Bitch. Fierce!
America`s Next Top Model Season 3 - Episode 1

By JT
9/23/2004

Throw out those wicker baskets and burn your red gingham tablecloths, because at the start of tonight's premiere of America's Next Top Model Season 3, aka the Most Important Television Show Ever, Miss Tyra Banks announces that being a Top Model "ain't no picnic." Mostly because fried chicken doesn't regurgitate very well. As we revisit scenes from the first two seasons, Ty promises us catfights, beauty and tears, and with the exception of that middle one, they're serving it all up hot and fresh in this week's episode!

Before cutting to very appropriate commercials for cosmetics (Top Models need to look pretty), lingerie (when you got it, flaunt it), tampons (hey, even T.M.s get a monthly visit from Aunt Flo) and Drano (makes lunch come up easier), Tyra leers at the camera and declares "Weeeeeee're Baaaaaack!" And believe you me, that little blond bitch from "Poltergeist" had no idea.

This season immediately differs from the last two in that A) the competition takes place in Los Angeles, and B) we are introduced to all the semi-finalists rather than just the top 14 who will go on to compete each week. That's a whole lot of bitch to keep up with, so forgive me if a few names and minor details are left out.

As everyone arrives at LAX, I am impressed with the diversity of this season's hopefuls: we have wide-eyed small town girls, street-smart city chicks, exotic ethnic ladies…and some freak with a stuffed bear. The whole lot of them are shuttled to the Le Meridien Hotel, where Jay Manuel, looking as artificial and gay as ever, welcomes them and reveals that in a few days, there will be a cut and only 20 will move on to the next round. Following that, 6 more will be sent packing, leaving the final group of 14, who will be put to the test by a panel of judges, each week eliminating one more contestant, until only one is left teetering on 5-inch stilettos and the brink of starvation, having earned the esteemed title of America's. Next. Top. Model. But for now the girls are told to relax, enjoy a lovely low carb buffet, and get ready for tonight's pool party, where they will have the opportunity to really get to know each other and determine whose eyes need to be clawed out first.

Over dinner, Leah, who is from Oklahoma, remarks that she is used to being surrounded by cows. Lovely! Seat her with the two plus-size girls! Eva and Ann, this season's Ebony and Ivory, immediately click and make a confident toast to being the final two. Who wants to bet these two are at each other's throats by next week? All this bonding comes to a screeching halt when Tyra Banks enters the room. And when I say screeching, I mean it. You'd think it was the Second Coming the way these bitches freak out. Tyra receives a standing ovation, most likely prompted by her barking "Get up! Get up!" over and over again, and several girls proceed to kneel on the floor and bow down to her. I am not kidding. Did I miss something? Did that bitch cure cancer since last season ended? I didn't realize having a forehead you could land an airplane on and designing jewelry that looks like the shit you try to grab with a crane in those amusement park games now qualifies you for sainthood. Yaya, a contestant from Harlem, is so taken aback by the presence of Almighty Tyra Banks that she thought it was "a hologram," and that she "didn't look real." Well guess what, Ya…that's because that shit AIN'T real. That slag is pumped full of more Botox and silicone than all the episodes of "Nip/Tuck" and "Dr. 90210" combined.

After a quick pep talk in which she disses Jennifers Aniston and Lopez, predicts the return of the Supermodel and does some strange gang signs with her fingers while talking about her LA roots, Tyra takes her crappy weave, her enormous forehead and her fake tits and glides out to the sounds of more applause, and a gawky girl with braces named Norelle cannot believe Tyra Banks was standing right there. Me? I can't believe someone with braces thinks she can be a Top Model. But hey, what do I know?

Pool party! Things get off to a delightful start as we see some blond chick being dragged by her hair into the pool kicking and screaming. Excellent! Apparently the alpha personalities in the group are beginning to surface, and they're the ones not afraid to get their hair and makeup wet, unlike some other pussies who are cowering in fear off to the side. Meanwhile, the two plus size models compare bust sizes. Off-camera, Toccara, a self-proclaimed "real woman with something juicy" at 180 pounds, disses Mary, a virtual featherweight at a mere 160. I'm sorry, Toccara, but when I think high fashion Top Model, the last adjective that pops into my mind is "juicy." "Gaunt," yes. "Juicy," no. In fact, the only thing "juicy" about Top Models is probably the chewing gum they eat for dessert after a hearty dinner of sprouts and a pack of Marlboro Reds.

The next morning, we finally get reintroduced to my favorite character from seasons past: Mr. J Alexander, or, as Tyra has nicknamed him, "Mrs. J," as opposed to "Mr. J," Jay Manuel. Oh, that Tyra…does her creativity know no bounds? Mrs. J does not disappoint, rocking Pippi Longstocking pigtails under a fabulous pink kerchief that compliments his glossy red lips. Now THAT is fierce! And when I say fierce, I am of course referring to my sudden pangs of nausea. Round one of the competition begins as each contestant approaches Tyra and Mr. and Mrs. J individually, answers a few questions about themselves and prances about nearly nude. Meet Cassie, another confident Okie with an "un-American job"…she's a stripper! And a trashy one at that! But you see, it's all her father's fault. When she calls him up to ask for a measly twenty bucks, he hangs up on her, but not before telling her she can starve to death first. Awww, those people from the Heartland and their good ol' family values! But Cassie'll show him -- she really IS going to starve herself to death…by becoming America's. Next. Top. MODEL!

Enter Tiffany, who apologizes for coming off "a little ghetto" (but just a LITTLE) before telling the judges she turned into Satan during the 8th grade. But that's just how her grandmother describes it. According to Tiffany, she simply "became a woman," and for a moment I am confused about whether we are still talking about schoolyard fights or something totally different and disturbingly obscene. Anyway, Tiff goes on to boast that she has spent her whole life disappointing her entire family, so really, why should this interview be any different?

Tiffany's proclivity for violent behavior may disappoint her family, but I, for one just love it! We get a little taste as the gang hits the town and heads for what is surely one of Los Angeles' hottest nightspots: Barney's Beanery. Seriously, this joint looks like a roadside dump. At first I thought they went all the way to Oklahoma to visit Cassie's place of employment. But the girls are into it and start to get jiggy on the dance floor, much to the chagrin of some of the bar regulars, who scowl at the potential Top Models with blurry-faced disgust while double fisting bottles of Budweiser. To help us distinguish the good guys from the bad, the words "Not Models!" flash in blinking red type whenever one of the locals is shown onscreen. Again, I am sooo not joking. Eventually, one of the patrons asks Tiffany to "get her skank ass out of her fucking face." Perhaps because she neglected to add "please," this prompts chants of "Dance Off! Dance Off!" and faster than you can say "Mrs. Britney Federline," this shit is ON!

No sooner do the gyrations begin when homegirl pours her entire beer on Tiffany's head.
After uttering the always enjoyable phrase, "Bitch poured beer on my weave," Tiff retaliates by flinging a beverage back at her. What follows is two minutes of pure heaven, as the entire bar starts hurling glasses full of alcohol at the contestants. And these LA bitches have some good arms! Smash! Crash! Squeal! Shriek! Unfortunately, the "Not Models" have shitty aim, because no one leaves with a bloody face full of glass shards.

On the way back to the hotel, Tiffany is chastised by Sarah, who tells us she was raised not to fight. Unlike Tiff, whose parents apparently sent her to kindergarten with a jar of Vaseline and some brass knuckles. An amusing exchange then takes place between the two, who of course are seated at opposite sides of the van so that the other girls are uncomfortably placed in the middle.

Tiffany: "Where you from??!!"
Sarah: "I don't condone violence."
Tiffany: "Well, that's great, Martin Luther King, but I'm down with Malcolm X."

Surely, Malcolm X is beaming down from the heavens with pride in this young African American female, slinging glasses of beer and vodka at the white devil and vowing to "beat someone's ass" in his name. In a perfect world, Sarah would have retorted, "Save it for Black History Month, bitch!"

Back to the auditions. It's Norelle's turn in front of the judges, and she is not embarrassed at all by her braces, or as she calls it, the "bling bling on her grill." Someone really needs to stop white people from using this kind of talk, it's really getting tiresome. Call in Madame X, aka Tiffany! Anyway, Norelle stands before the judges in a ruffled micro miniskirt that barely skims the area where her ass cheeks would live if she had an ass, and confesses to pretending that she is Paris Hilton when alone in her room.. By this I don't know if she means that she poses in front of her mirror wearing Uggs, a napkin and a vacant, soulless stare, or if she videotapes herself in a variety of deviant sex acts to conveniently be stolen and sold a few years from now on the Internet. Either way…nasty!
There are several other girls who pass in front of the judges, but since this is getting long and I'm starting to even bore myself, I'll run through them as quickly as possible:

-Kelle, a black girl who describes herself as "a white girl with a really good tan." Way to represent, yo!

-Mary and Toccara, the plus-size models who are "big, black and beautiful." One word: J U G S. Big-ass J U G S. Or should that be big asses and J U G S? Either way, these two are a whole lotta woman, and I'm not talking about just their personalities.

-Amy, who stands nearly 6 feet tall and weighs only 115 pounds. She vehemently denies having an eating disorder, and looks positively appalled when Tyra suggests she eat some ribs and potato salad instead of her usual 3 protein shakes a day. Well, as appalled as a slack-jawed skeleton with barely enough energy to raise her eyelids can look.

-The freak with the stuffed bear. Its name is "Baby" and it wanted to meet Tyra so she brought it with her to the audition. Ohhhhhkaaay. Moving on.

-A mannish looking girl who claims that people tell her on a daily basis that she should model. Uh huh, yeah. Ok. She quickly informs us that she is the prettiest girl at her school, before claiming that she doesn't want to do this, she can't take the pressure and wants to go home. Tyra is confused and starts to question her, at which point the girl spins on her heel and sashays out the door. Oh no, she din't! Tyra Banks, you just got SERVED, girl!

-Amanda, who has wanted to be a model since she was 3 years old. She is a young mother whose son, Elijah, means the world to her. But when Mr. J warns her that a Top Model's schedule can be hectic and you can't take your child with you, she basically shrugs and says "Fuck him, I'm cool with that." Amanda also has a mysterious secret, something to do with an eye problem. More on that later, as if you care.

-Eva, whose name rhymes with diva. Too bad she's just your basic bitch. However, she does gets points for mercilessly teasing Amy, the anorexic girl. Later, Tyra calls her out, saying she doesn't want to cast "another black bitch." The first black bitch being Tyra herself, which she proves by getting all Dr. Phil on Eva's ass. Before you know it, she is in tears with Tyra smugly looking on, thrilled to have broken down yet another psyche.

-Jennifer, from Pocatello, Idaho. How do we know where she is from? Because she says the town's name about a hundred times in her interview. She grew up in Pocatello, went to college in Pocatello, hates the way people dress in Pocatello, and when asked why she wants to be a model, she answers…you guessed it, to get the hell out of Pocatello. Honey, it's called a bus. If you hate that place so much, you buy a ticket, pack your shit and haul ass out of there. Simple as that. Apparently they are dumb as potatoes in Pocatello as well.

-Rachel, a slightly thinner version of Kelly Osborne that day she had bleached blonde spiky hair with a big black streak. Edgy! Not. She is confident she will win because unlike the others, she has modeling experience, having posed in Seventeen magazine. Somehow I don't think being the before picture in an article about hair "don'ts" really counts.

-Kristy, the only Republican in New York, where she goes to school. Guess she forgot about the mayor and the governor. Instead of a swimsuit, she models an American flag gown for the judges, to the tune of "Yankee Doodle." Despite all that has happened the last four years, I have never been less proud to be an American than at this very moment.

-Nicole, the lush of the bunch. She confesses to getting "too friendly and too trusting" when she drinks, making it a point to say this happens with "both men AND women." Wink, wink. Send her ass to the Real World auditions, she is obviously a Very Sexual Person!

-Margis, a reject from last season who is eager to be humiliated once again. She has rehearsed her audition speech but apparently not well enough, since she flubs it twice, prompting our resident Black Bitch to mock her. Margis, despite having a Top Model name on par with Yoanna, Xiomara and Jenascia, considers modeling "just a job" and tells the panel she really doesn't have a favorite model. Wrong answer! Only a moron doesn't realize that everyone's favorite model is none other than Almightly Tyra Banks, didn't she see the kneeling and the bowing and the adulation last night? What is she, blind? Oh wait, that's someone else. Shhh!

The next morning, a casting director named Michelle posts the names of the 20 girls who will move on to the next round of competition. She tacks the list onto a board and runs for her life as the stampede ensues. Not surprisingly, stuffed animal freak is out, as are the anorexic Amy and tough girl Tiffany. Both fatties make the cut, as well as Yaya, Eva, Amanda and for some reason Margis. Amanda takes this opportunity to reveal her secret to the group that she suffers from a disease called Retinitis Pigmentosa, is legally blind and by the age of 30 will be completely blind. I am not surprised…no sighted person would ever walk out of the house in the get-up that Amanda is sporting. The others pretend to be sympathetic to her condition, with a lot of gasping, hands over mouths, and sobbing, but you know that they are really imagining Amanda strutting down the runway during Fashion Week, looking fierce and fabulous and confident as all hell, until she gets to the end and keeps on walking at full speed, face first into a huge camera lens. Doh! Or is that just me imagining that? Either way, isn't that just hilarious?

Don't worry, it's almost over!

Six more girls need to be eliminated, so Jay Manuel, wearing something that looks appropriately straitjacket-esque, explains that he will conduct an impromptu photo shoot with no special wardrobe, hair or makeup, just to see how the girls take direction. Boring!
Basically all we get from this are more comments on Amanda's beautiful but gimp eyes, Yaya's problem acne, Norelle's mouth bling and Toccara's fat ass.

Finally, the moment of truth. Tyra stands before all the finalists and dramatically reads the names of the chosen 14 one by one. Ann (the ivory to Eva's ebony), Leah (cow lover), Kelle (the white black girl), Cassie (strippah!), Yaya (pizza face), Kristy (flag dress), Julie (who?), Magdelina (who?!), Nicole (the drunk), Amanda (Mary Ingalls), Norelle (metalmouth), Toccara (moo), Jennifer (goodbye, Pocatello!) and Eva (Black Bitch II).

Lots of crying, hugging, jumping up and down, blah blah blah. As the episode winds down, we find Rachel, the experienced Kelly Osborne lookalike who didn't make the final cut, slumped on the floor of a stall in the ladies' room. But she's not shooting up yet, she's crying. Tyra, having changed out of her ball gown into a tee shirt and jeans, walks in, presumably to take a massive dump, but first consoles Rachel with her own special brand of encouragement. "Rachel, you know how they say if it ain't broke don't fix it? Well, you need to do something about that hair. Now get the hell out of here so I can shit in peace. Gimme a hug, bitch!"

Next week: Fuck this preliminary horseshit, let the REAL competition begin!

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