So I just finished watching last season’s America’s Next Top Model…and those that know me and know my general disdain for reality elimination television can take a moment to collect yourselves.
Better? Okay.
I don’t get it. I watched this show in the hopes that I would see what it’s really like to be a model…that there is some reason for that kind of fluff, that kind of…is vapidness a word? All my life I’ve stood in those kinds of girls’ shadows because I was too tall or too fat or my face was too round or my hair was too weird. I guess I just wanted to know what those girls lives were like, that there was some purpose.
I did like the fact that Mckey, the girl that won last season, started out life like I did, as a tomboy. That made her a little more real. But I’m sorry, I still don’t get it. Maybe it’s just because I’ve never been really comfortable with people looking at me for me? Acting was never a problem for me because I was someone else on stage. Interpreting is the same thing, in a way…it’s not ME that’s having to say things, it’s the two people for whom I’m interpreting.
Anyway…I think I paid attention to the wrong things while watching…like how much I loved Elina’s tattoos or how big Tyra’s thighs actually are. The rest of it, the glam shoots and the fierce shapes and all that? Lost on me. I mean look at me! Not a bit of fierce there, not one bit.
And it’s not that I didn’t try when I was younger…I was in two pageants when I was in high school, one local and one national and I didn’t get very far in either. I was in the band, in flag corp during marching season, in high school after trying out for and not making cheer leading.
I really need that national insurance number to come in the mail so I can get a job and get away from the television.
