America's Next Karen Carpenter

I'm at the gym waiting for a machine to open up. Finally one does, I hop on, and the girl next to me says, "I hope you don't mind watching 'girl stuff' for 5 min." The girl stuff she was referring to, apparently, was the show America's Next Top Model, on the always cerebral, two-failed-network-collaboration, aka The CW.

So I watch for awhile. I try not to judge a book by its cover. I like to...you know...skim the back cover, maybe a paragraph or two from the prologue, and then judge it. True to the girl's word, she left 5 min. later, and I turned the TV to something a little more...masculine: "Dancing with the Stars". :) J/K.

In any event, yes, it was only 5 min., but I gotta tell you...I don't get this Top Model thing AT ALL. I think I get model-hood in general. An ugly chick, after all, sells little by way of clothes and makeup. A blunt way of putting it, I suppose, but that's pretty much the gist of the industry. But where do these so-called top models fit into the equation? You've got this physical attractiveness spectrum, ranging from sweet spirit/Cinnabon frequenter to smokin' hot/anatomically correct, upon which you can place any given girl. It's elegant. It makes sense. But then, for some reason at the "hot" end of the spectrum they make this crazy, inexplicable turn and veer into a very bizarre place. What, exactly, is "top" about these models? I believe the term they like to use is "exotic", but to me...they're just weird looking. And when I say I like my women curvy, I ain't talking about the curve between every rib. For you He-Man fans out there, let me put it this way. Teela good. Skeletor...bad.

Here's a little taste from their official website:



What the crap is this all about?? :) Yeah baby, nothing screams "sexy" like biking shorts, grandma's orange afghan, big hair, raccoon makeup, and pretend rock-climbing. (wiping up drool) If only she were 20 lbs. lighter. A shame. Oh well there's always next season. ;)