Australia's Next Top Model Wrap Up: Series 5/Ep 10

OMG IT'S LIKE, TOYTALLY THE PENULTIMATE EPISODE!!! We are like, SOY down to the final three scrags and by the end of the night we'll be like, SOY TOYTALLY down to the final two! OMG!!1!1!111

Have a random picture of Adele to celebrate.

Given the importance of this event, coupled with the fact that the only remaining episode in the series is next week's TOYTALLY LIVE FINALLY which I will be personally attending (if my boss gives me the day off... fingers crossed), I thought it was appropriate to have a quick look back at the loser modelettes who paved the way for our top three - Tahnee, Cassi and Adelaide's finest, Clare.

Laura T.

As yes, Laura T - most memorable for being the one that wasn't Laura M. Remember that time she... no wait, that was someone else. Er... moving on.

Leah.

Leah - the girl I initially thought looked rather like Sam from season four but who actually ended up looking more like Paloma from season three. Or like a busted sandshoe, as she does here.

Laura M.

Laura M - the one Pezza thought was a dead ringer for Lucy Liu solely because she was Asian, was dismissed in episode 6 with Blondie's immortal words: "You have a career in front of you." Unfortunately she also had two massive knockers in front of her which precluded her from ever modelling Chanel.

Lola.
(Was it mandatory for all contestants to have a name starting with L this year or what?)

Lola, aka "The Jaw", had a mandible the size of a Mini Minor and could accidentally swallow small children whole when sneezing. Sadly she never accidentally inhaled Cassi, so we've had to put up with her for the whole series.

Adele.

Adele - possibly the spawn of Alamela the Ranga Modelbot and Alexandra the Goot-Loving Manchild from season 4, this rather stiff little number had about as much facial range as Harrison Ford on Botox. But WOW was she good at maths.

Mikarla.

Mikarla - the season's undisputed bogan queen until Cassi stepped up, put down her Bacardi Breezer, puffed Winnie Blue smoke in her face and yanked her crown away, this Claudia Schiffer lookalike fell victim to the patented ANTM "after school special - teach them a moralistic lesson" campaign in episode 4 and was booted due to "bad attitude". Meanwhile, Cassi remains as yet undefeated... Go figure.

Georgie.

Er... um... Anyone? Anyone at all remember this chick?

Madison.

From the first hair flick of the opening credits we knew we were going to get something special from Madison. Despite the fact that they've made her look about 45 years old in this sequence, Maddy turned into quite a looker. Apart from the frizzy hair. And the bad skin. And the... oh look, I'm sure she's a nice girl.

Franky.

Franky wasn't the most reliable model on the block, which perhaps explains why they got Deni Hines drunk and used her in the opening titles instead.

Eloise.

She was from Adelaide and... stuff.

Ahem, right so with that trip down nostalgia lane over and done with let's get into it - this week's episode kicks off with a visit to Priscilla's modelling agency, where Blondie McPins has arrived to show off her new chest tattoo:

Blondie's bitchin' chest ink makes all the girls swoon.

Blondie and P-Money tell the girls they'll be doing totally-real-and-not-already-predetermined catwalk castings for "top designers" for Australian Fashion Week. Cassi has her fingers crossed for Supre.

And so off they go in their shiny blue advertisement to Ginger and Smart, where they... Sorry? Ginger and Smart. No, Ginger and SMART. They're designers. DESIGNERS, I said. GINGER AND SMA - look, it doesn't matter, they're at a casting, OK?

Either Ginger or Smart (I can't tell which, as neither of them is visibly either) tells Clare she needs to "embody" what the label is all about, which apparently is being "modern, polished and effortless".

Like a doorknob.

Clare pulls off a perfect doorknob impression which scores her a place in their show, and she rushes out to tell the others who are crouched on the floor on the sparse G&S hallway. Soooo maybe don't expect a paycheck anytime soon, Clare - times are obviously tough round this company.

Meanwhile, next week's models will be asked to embody "wooden, four-legged and comfortable".

Next up is Tahnee, who fails to get a guernsey, followed by Cassi, who is sure to impress.

How could this girl NOT be a model?

In a big purple sack dress she limps through the office like Grimace on crack, almost tripping up on her own shoes, and finishes off with a big, gummy smile. It's obviously a shock when she doesn't get the gig.

So it's off to Wayne Cooper for the next casting. Monsieur Cooper describes Clare as "smouldering" and Tahnee as "all woman" which , apart from being completely creepy, given she is 17, I think means she has hips. Cassi once again does her Boris Karloff impression down the catwalk which is about as impressive as her Grimace impression, and somehow still lands the gig. Guess Cooper's not being too choosy these days, what with the GFC and all.

"Clare had booked two shows and Cassi had booked one and I'd booked none," explains Tahnee, who has clearly taken over from Adele as the resident maths brain of the group.

Off to Nicola Finetti, where Cassi decides to try out a new catwalk impression: that of a wonky supermarket trolley.

It was nothing like this - but don't you think this girl looks like a wonky supermarket trolley? Best clip ever.

Actually it's more like a WHINY supermarket trolley, as after she slips over in her high heels which AFTER 10 WEEKS SHE STILL HASN'T LEARNED HOW TO WALK IN she blames it on her "weak ankles". Weak excuse? Yes. Weak ankle? No.

Tahnee throws on a hideous dress made out of what Nicola found on the factory floors at Inghams and does her best to make it look good, but only elicits a murmur from the man himself that sounds a little like "She's very perforated I think". I have no idea what this means, but his assistant seems to think it's funny. Er, how about some subtitles? The man sounds like an extra in the Godfather for god's sake.

Cassi doesn't get the gig because her walk isn't "sexy and 80s" enough.

What about "sexy" and "in her 80s"?

Remembering he can claim all charitable donations back on tax, Nicola reluctantly gives the perforated Tahnee a go, and obviously Clare also gets in because she's an awesome, arse-kicking fairy princess who can do no wrong. CLARE FOR PM!

Then it's off to walk for a swimwear designer called Something and Something (aren't they all? Doesn't anyone work ALONE anymore?) which Clare fails because she doesn't have boobs, Tahnee fails because she does have boobs and Cassi wins, despite looking like a bogan chopstick wrapped in a couple of bandaids.

Finally they all troop off to a big advertisement for Diet Coke where they meet Pease (what the hell? Has he been absent for like, five episodes or what?) and do a catwalk audition for what feels like the 500th time this episode.

"You can't just be a skinny, hungry-looking bitch model, you've got to be bubbly," says Clare, who has clearly been studying her Diet Coke commercials in preparation for this very day.

Diet Coke. It's got bubbles.

In an event as unpredictable as the jokes in Rove's opening monologue, all three modelettes get the job. Yay. Are we finished with go-sees yet? THANK GOD.

It's time for the Ginger and Smart show - Clare stands backstage, wide-eyed and amazed at all the goings on of a real, live fashion show.

"There were models, and photographers and DRESSES," she gasps. Next episode: Clare goes to a library, and marvels at all the books.

She slinks down the catwalk in a naught but a test pattern and a tuxedo jacket, and somehow looks a million dollars. Not only does she look great but she manages to break several laws of physics by, as Blondie says, both fitting in AND standing out. IS THERE ANYTHING THIS GIRL CAN'T DO? (Apart from gain a natural tan?)

Then it's off to Wayne Cooper - or is it ALICE Cooper? Judging by the makeup, quite possibly:

She's in the department of youth.

"Not only did he have the judges in the audience, but he had MASSIVE VIPs in the audience too," says Cassi, a valiant attempt to suck up to Wayne Cooper that is rather undermined by the accompanying footage, which shows Kerri-Anne Kennerley and two miscellaneous 20-somethings I've never seen before in my life.

Sadly, other massive VIPs couldn't make it.

Meanwhile, Cassi prepares by going through her mental checklist of things not to do on the catwalk: stack it, swear or look like a retarded eight year old from the 70s.

Two out of three ain't bad.

But as usual Cassi's biggest challenge is walking in a straight line, which she fails by making a beeline for the front row halfway down the catwalk. I blame the sunglasses.

"I have no idea what to expect," monotones Tahnee as she gets haired and madeup for the Nicola Finetti show. Here's a hint, Tahnee - lots of people sitting around a catwalk that you walk up and down. Think you can handle that?

Tahnee takes to the runway and... woah... I mean... JEEZ. GOOD LORD - do they have no bras backstage for the girl to wear? It's like the opening sequence of Baywatch, for christ's sake. Who knew Tahnee's knockers were that big?

Tahnee turns at the end of the runway and one side of the audience quickly ducks to avoid being knocked out by her nipples.

"There's something about Tahnee," says Blondie. Two things I think, actually.

The next day, lovely models Tahnee and Clare decide to do their bit for charity by bringing a young homeless boy along with them to Fashion Week and... oh, hang on.

Nice to see she dressed up for the occasion.

And it's off to the Anna and Boy show, which is being held in a corridor somewhere in the outer suburbs of Sydney. Cassi stomps up and down in bathers, white socks and brogues (well what do YOU wear to the beach?) and everyone calls her Christmas, despite her looking like a car accident victim who's only just learned how to walk again.

"This is the tightest top three ever, I don't know how to eliminate a girl," frets Blondie.

Here's a tip: why not eliminate the girl who only booked two shows, can't walk in a straight line and has teeth like a picket fence that's been through a hurricane? Just sayin'.

And finally we wind up with the Diet Coke little black dress parade: Like a big, gorgeous, fired up lust-bomb, Tahnee almost explodes out of her black Alex Perry dress which is littler than most (or maybe it's just that her boobs are so big); Clare looks fab despite having a spear sticking out the back of her head for the whole show (perhaps Cassi put it there); Cassi earns a heap of compliments by managing to NOT walk awkwardly (she's had 10 weeks, you'd think that'd be a given by now).

Blondie, Pezza, Identity and Pease heap praise, Cassi has a cry about not being good enough and viewers around Australia simultaneously repress the urge to headbutt their televisions.

"I don't play those sorts of games," snips Pezza, which makes me wonder - what sort of games DOES Pezza play?

Monopoly?

Kerplunk?

Definitely Twister with Dawson.

Everyone wanks on about how difficult it will be to eliminate someone this week. IT'S REALLY NOT THAT HARD, LOOK:

CLARE: Can walk in a straight line.

TAHNEE: Can walk in a straight line.

CASSI: Can't walk in a straight line. And complains and cries all the time.

Simple maths. If only Adele were still around.

The next day at the... well, not at the model mansion, which they've been seemingly turfed out of since returning from London (clearly Fox 8 spent all their rent money on shitty plastic Sarah Mail props). At wherever they are, Blondie turns up to announce the prize for the winner of the fashion week challenge - via television.

"Woah, it must be big if it's on television!" gasps Tahnee, who I'm guessing still wonders how TV stars manage to fit inside such a tiny box.

Unsurprisingly the winner is Clare, who wins a trip to Cable Beach. Unsurprisingly, Cassi has a cry about losing. Unsurprisingly, viewers everywhere start balling their hands into fists of rage and muttering "Shut up, just SHUT UP YOU COW."

Next thing you know there's a Sarah Mail delivery courtesy of Clare's mum (don't ask, the explanation is really not worth it) and all the girls are shuffled off to a beach with an improbable amount of friendly dolphins in it for their last photo shoot.

"We pulled up to Garie Beach, and when we saw that it was a beach we all thought 'Oh no'," says Clare. Would have thought the name was a bit of giveaway myself, but there you go.

"Duh, and when I saw Ayers Rock was a rock I thought 'Oh no'."

It's an extremely windy day down at the seaside - fortunately Cassi has rugged up in THE ONLY JUMPER SHE HAS WORN IN EVERY SINGLE EPISODE FOR THIS ENTIRE TRIP. She's also decided to do her best Elmer Fudd impression as an innovative way of keeping warm.

"I weally, weally want to win."

But it's not as hot as Pease Porridge's tribute to the late, great Michael Jackson - even if he has forgotten the sunglasses and bandaids.

Not such a smooth-shaving criminal.

"Today you're going to have to produce pure magic in front of the lens," says Pease.

Sadly for Tahnee, who stayed up all night learning card tricks, he's talking metaphorically, and all three modelettes are chucked into some flimsy bridal gowns and thrown into the surf for a group shot.

Bitching brides on the beach shoot in a nutshell:

• Cassi displays a sad lack of understanding of how STIs are transmitted by exclaiming "Sure I'll put my arm around Clare - it's not like she has herpes or anything".



• Just like in a 1980s beer commercial, a wave knocks Cassi's dress clean off. Somewhere, John Singleton is smiling.



• Meanwhile, flimsy white dresses + crashing surf = exactly what you'd expect. Somewhere, a pervy old man is smiling. Probably in the dunes. With a long range camera.



• The photographer describes Clare as "comfortable with moving", a skill which should come in handy if she ever wants to go from one place to another.



• Cassi lies down in the surf, does a passable impression of a piece of driftwood wrapped in discarded toilet paper.



• Tahnee, who in three years will clearly be the next Megan Gale, causes steam to rise from the waves, she's so hot. In other news: Tahnee is 17, and I feel a bit wrong.

And with that, it's off to the elimination warehouse where one model faces the prospect of being kicked off the show to be slaughtered, skinned and turned into a race day hat for Charlotte Dawson.

Each modelette is asked to say why they should win and what their weaknesses are.

Tahnee says "Er, um... oh.. I want to cry" and then lists her weakness as her body, which makes ME want to cry.

Cassi takes her Bogan hat off and puts her Big Fat Bitch Bogan hat on, claiming the other girls are just in it for the money and she's not, and she really needs a job because she doesn't live at home and her mum's overseas. Ever heard of Coles, Cassi? Maccers?

She then goes on to say how she no longer punches walls or people, at which Blondie exclaims "That's amazing!", as if learning NOT to punch people is a real achievement that should be rewarded. Never mind the thousands of formerly calm and passive viewers around the country who are being driven to violence by Cassi's weekly bitching and moaning.

Clare does an impression of a Year 10 debating team captain by "starting with a quote", which turns out to be something Blondie's agent made up and emailed in a statement to Foxtel magazine. It's a polished and impressive start, which she then ruins by crying about being called prissy all the time.

"I'm never going to apologise for having a good education and therefore being well spoken," she declares, a statement which has me all ready to wave my "CLARE FOR PM" flag even harder from the couch until she bursts into tears and ruins the whole performance.

But then the emotional guitar music starts which, as we all know, cues the start of a possible Oscar winning performance:

"My dad's a train driver and my mum was homeless at my age," she continues.

"They've had to drag themselves up from the gutter to get everything that me and my sister need, and that includes a good education, so if that makes me a prissy princess THEN I'LL WEAR THAT BADGE WITH HONOUR."

YES YOU CAN, CLARE!

It's a truly inspiring speech and actually, I think good on her. There's nothing wrong with being quiet, well spoken and intelligent - apart from the drawback that you'll probably always get served last at the bar - and just because Aussies love to glorify braindead, beer-swilling, fag-puffing bogans doesn't mean you have to be one.

Gosh, I've come over all motherly... best get on with the picture bitch.

• The group shot is completely and utterly gorgeous, which means there's nothing funny at all to say about it. Pity, that.



• Identity Dawson, who has either just had a new bionic arm installed or is entering the Guiness Book of Records for "Most bangles worn on one arm", outs Tahnee as a Scientologist by claiming that another being is inhabiting her body.
  
  
  If only she didn't have to use her wrist she could have crammed another one on.



• Cassi looks delicious, which is rather annoying as I was kind of hoping they'd get rid of her this episode. Sigh.



• Blondie declares that after 10 weeks they've finally broken Clare, at which point Dawson exclaims "WE'VE BROKEN THAT BI... prom queen!". Niiiice cover up, Daws.



• Blondie chooses Tahnee as her favourite, the guest judge from New York picks Cassi and Pezza chooses Clare, which means Dawson and the photographer have the deciding vote. Can we vote for Pease to leave the show instead?

As always, someone has to leave. But not Tahnee, who goes through as the first TOP TWO candidate.

"Good luck," says Cassi to Clare.

"Don't worry about it," replies Clare. Er...?

As it turns out, Cassi doesn't worry about it at all because it's Clare who's given the boot. Clare celebrates her loss by trying on Cassi's Big Fat Bogan Bitch hat before going home, telling Cassi she's got a bad attitude and doesn't deserve to win and imploring viewers not to vote for her. Then she throws her stuffed animal in the pool. Fair cop, I say.

And so it goes - Tahnee big boobs and Cassi small brain are our final two. What do you think? Was Clare robbed? Who will win? Will my boss give me the day off next week to attend the show? All these questions and more answered at next Tuesday's GRAND FINALE!

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Australia's Next Top Model Wrap Up: Series 5/Ep 9

OH MY GOD, we're down to the FINAL FOUR - can you feel the excitement? Or actually, as this is ANTM - can you fee-eel the chay-aay-aaaange?

There may be four left standing, but as Adele has no doubt already calculated in that gorgeous, gigantic brain of hers, only one can win. Fortunately all the losers who aren't picked up by Priscilla's (what, you think you actually have to WIN this thing to be a model?) will be able to find work in the Clash cover band Cassi is putting together - after several weeks of highly irritating rehearsals she's almost perfected their first song, Should I Stay Or Should I Go.

And she's already got the Joe Strummer teeth, so she's halfway there with costuming already.

Despite not even having an album out yet, the band is already preparing for its first tour to the UK - Cassi is so excited she Googles the lyrics to London Calling so she can practise on the plane.

Suddenly Blondie McPins turns up to give the girls a parting present - a 10 year old Nokia 5110 she got from Cash Converters so they can keep in touch with the motherland while they're away. That's right - just the one. What, you think the ANTM budget would allow them to have one EACH?

I don't think so.

"It's really good to see Sarah before we go because she's kind of like a mum type thing to us now," says Cassi.

I'm not exactly sure what a "mum type thing" is, but this is what Google Images suggests:

I can't guarantee this is what Blondie's look like.

Clare farewells HQ as she loads her luggage into the car: "Goodbye mansion, goodbye pool, goodbye gym..."

"Goodbye!"

The band arrives in Abu Dhabi after what is a presumably uneventful journey (given that there is no footage of Adele vomiting in the aisle or Cassi bumpressing the windows on takeoff) and enjoys some hard-earned pampering advertising dollar-funded and completely undeserved wining, dining and beauty treatments at the Etihad VIP lounge. Unfortunately it seems none of the girls got fresh with a stewardess either, which could have led to a thrilling "Arabian jail" themed photo shoot.

"Wow, Cassi looks hot in that photo!"
"Isn't that Adele?"

Finally the girls arrive in the middle of some amazing establishing shots of Heathrow airport (Arrivals! Departures! TOILETS!) and are snapped by a "paparazzo", ie: some pov tourist the producers have bribed with a phone call home and a pack of duty free smokes to pretend to take photos of them all.

But he's nothing compared to the faux-sunglasses-wearing specimen of manhood that is Gerry Deveaux - Stylist, who is there to meet them. He's like an English version of Pease, but with less 1980s influences. And more American accent. He bundles them into a mini van and they all hoon off to the city.

"There's heritage sort of castles everywhere," muses Adele intelligently as they drive past Big Ben. Yeeeees, sweetie.... castles....

Meanwhile, Cassi says London reminds her of her boyfriend because there are a lot of brick buildings, and her boyfriend is a brickie. Yeeeees, sweetie... bricks...

One of the many fab postcards you can buy in swingin' London!

On the other side of the MENSA bus Tahnee somehow ignores both the castles and the bricks to marvel at how London is full of "really white people"...

Meanwhile, Clare and Adele can't see what all the fuss is about.

...while Clare is busy ogling an "English couple" who are more than likely Belgian tourists, possibly trying to find historic Big Ben Castle on their "Amazing Brick Buildings of London" walking tour.

After this comprehensive look at London the girls arrive in the middle of a rather large advertisement for the Sanderson, a five star hotel they immediately lower the tone of by walking through the lobby. They are given the keys to the penthouse, which prompts lots of girly squealing - if they throw in some dicking about with blusher brushes they'll have a passable imitation of last week's Telstra advertisement.

"This is the best hotel I've ever been in," says Clare, who at 16 years old shouldn't really have any authority on these sorts of matters but seems to anyway.

Just as Cassi's about to nab the biggest bedroom (with a stainless-steel plated ensuite that looks like it could double as a water torture room in a mental institution)(so probably quite apt for Cassi, then) she is pipped at the post by Tahnee and Clare who invoke the watertight "Shotgun" rule.

"Whatever - I wasn't really in the mood for an argument," says Cassi.

In other news, Satan's heating bill increased by 75% this week.

"I ended up sharing with Cassi which is fair enough because the other two don't get along with her as well as I do, so I would have been sorry for them if they'd been stuck with her," says Adele, the newly crowned Queen of the Backhander.

"I FEEL LIKE JULIA ROBERTS IN PRETTY WOMAN - but after she was a crack whore," says Clare, who has clearly never seen either Pretty Woman or a crack whore in her life. Let's hope there's one at this week's photo shoot for her to pose with.

Suddenly the Nokia 5110 bursts into life and it's Blondie video-calling from Australia - what, you think they could afford to send her to London too? Actually I don't think she's even calling them - HELLO, do you have any idea what international video call rates are?? - it's a pre recorded clip stored on the phone. Sigh. Sadly no one decides to skip forward and view all the clips at once so we can find out who's being booted off this week already - we're instead forced to go meet Gerry Fauxpease to discover "the London look".

Which I think is this.

They arrive on what looks to be the set of the next Austin Powers film - Austin Powers: Fashion Assassin - in which Fauxpease is clearly playing the villain.

"Hey ladies," he swaggers ominously as he swings around to face them in a strange transparent bubble suspended from the ceiling, before whisking them away to the high street for some shopping.

"OHHH, TOP SHOP!" squeals Clare which, for those of you who are unaware, is rather like squealing in excitement when you see SUPRE.

"I have a really European style, and these are all European clothes which is what I like," she continues in an impressive display of her geography knowledge.

While they're shopping, Fauxpease gives them some really useful fashion tips such as "team a gorgeous $5000 Burberry bag with the cheap stuff you buy at Top Shop". Cassi tries to take notes but all she gets down is "BAG CHEAP STUFF AT TOP SHOP" which rather suits her anyway.

They press on to Selfridges where a giant sequinned Wookie is there to meet them, straight from the set of the new disco-themed Star Wars film and... oh hang on...

That's no wookie!
(You're making the noise in your head now though, aren't you?)

Yes, it's Elle McPherson, who takes them into a tiny room to talk to them in a decidedly weird accent that can only be described as "Amerenglian" crossed with a six year old retarded child. Lucky she's got those legs.

The Big Mac craps on a bit about loving yourself and looking after your body, and tells the girls how she likes to meditate to "connect with her core light". Apparently this also helps her to strengthen her vocal cords for more efficient yelling at staff too.

"I don't know if I 'inspire' young girls," she says coyly, conveniently ignoring the fact that she hasn't been a role model for about 20 years and young girls all idolise Miranda Kerr these days.

The Big Mac throws some more advertisements at them before they're packed off to a random cafe in the middle of nowhere where they "receive" another "video call" from Blondie. She tells them they were all "secretly photographed" at the airport - er, do you mean by that very obvious lone paparazzi all the girls pointed out in the arrivals hall? THAT secret photographer? - and because Adele managed to look the least retarded, she's won tickets to a movie that night. Or something Sarah found down the back of the couch, I can't remember which.

As it turns out she HAS won tickets to a movie - the UK premiere of Fast and Furious, otherwise known as That Film With Heaps of Broom Brooms and Half Naked Chicks and Vin Diesel I Think. Adele is like, heaps excited cos like, it's her favourite movie like, EVER, and she takes Cassi to go with her and have a fully sick time.

They get dressed up as two bag ladies from the East Suffolk County Players' production of Oliver Twist (not sure if this was a requirement of the evening or if they were just trying to get "the London look") and have a great time walking the red carpet and seeing all the stars, and ruining people's photos by standing in front of those stars on the red carpet - it's an awesome night.

Meanwhile back at the hotel, Tahnee and Clare are whooping it up by prancing about in bathrobes pretending to be Adele and Cassi.

Just 99p.

When Miss and Mrs Bagsalot get back to the hotel room there's a Sarah Mail awaiting them, which I'm guessing wasn't mailed at all (do you KNOW how much international postage costs??) but simply placed there in one of the least interesting Sarah Mail deliveries ever. What, no bottle? No plastic toy animals? NO BOTTLE?

The GFC is clearly taking its toll.

"Tomorrow could be one of the most toughest days of your life," reads Adele. So at least they saved money on proofreading, then.

As it turns out, tomorrow won't be anywhere near the most toughest day of their lives as it's "go sees" day which, as everyone who's ever watched Australia's Next Top Model before knows, is about as tough as walking in a straight line. Er... I mean jumping up and down on a trampoline. Oh, er... I mean lying motionless on a slab of ice. Um, er... Well anyway it's pretty fucking easy. Which explains why the girls arrive at their first agency with a minimum of fuss.

"Take a seat and let's have a look at your box," says the director, as I wonder just what kind of agency this is. (OK so she said "books" - whatever.)

"So, who entered you?" she asks Tahnee, which is rather a personal question for a first meeting, I think. Fortunately Tahnee knows nothing of innuendo, so doesn't take any offence.

She deems Clare and Tahnee both "gorgeous" and Cassi a "no-brainer", which is possibly the most accurate description of her to date.

"She needs her teeth fixed, but she's great," she says.

NO, really?

But she's most overjoyed to hear Adele got good marks at school - which possibly doesn't bode well for what she thinks of her future as a model. They might as well have DON'T GIVE UP YOUR DAY JOB, ADELE running along the bottom of the screen while she talks. Meanwhile, at the next agency Tahnee is asked if she's considered acting - as DON'T GIVE UP YOUR DAY JOB, TAHNEE scrolls across the bottom of the screen.

Back at the hotel, Fauxpease has paid off a hungover tramp to break into the girls' room while they're at breakfast.

"Oi, this isn't the Old Kent Road...?"

As it turns out, he's a photographer, and they're going to be traipsing around London with him posing with stereotypes and cliches for the day - like boring tourists with too much makeup on.

Adele is plonked into a dress supposedly worth $100,000, which I could more easily believe if I thought you could buy garbage bags worth that much. Cassi is given a boring sundress that could easily have come from K Mart, Clare looks like Madonna from 1992, while Tahnee resembles something you'd buy at a craft fair that's filled with cloves.

The London look.

London cliche photoshoot in a nutshell:

• Tahnee hangs out in front of Big Ben, makes Adele jealous for getting to pose in front of a castle.



• Cassi hangs off the side of a bus, makes public transport look attractive.



• Adele hangs out of a telephone booth, probably because the girls only have one mobile phone and she needs to call for help to get out of the hideous dress she's been forced to wear.



• Clare hangs outside the front door of Number 10 Downing St looking like a call girl trying to escape News of the World photographers and gives everyone a lecture on sexiness which, coming as it does froma 16 year old girl, is neither interesting, useful nor enlightening.

To complete the London cliche cycle the girls take a London black cab back to the hotel.

"'Ere girls, I've got somefink for ya," says the cabbie as he reaches into his pocket - something many a young girl has heard at the end of a cab ride they're not paying for. Fortunately this time it's just a Sarah Mail. Whoopee.

Next thing you know the girls are back in the elimination warehouse in Sydney - which indicates they spent something like three days in London, two of them travelling. That was worth it.

It's such a HUGE elimination day, everyone is SO pumped to be there - especially guest judge, former winner Alice Burdeu, who is so thrilled she can barely contain her excitement:

I AM JUMPING OUT OF MY SKIN JUST TO BE HERE.

So without further ado, let's picture bitch - LONDON STYLE:

• Clare's decidedly uninspiring photo flashes up on screen and the most positive thing anyone can say is "Well, there you are!". Negative comments are, however, in abundance.



• Adele's photo makes her look like a hooker trying to call her crack dealer at 3am from a phone booth with a broken door that she has to keep open with her foot. Either that, or it's a poster advertisement for pap smears. So much for the $100,000 dress.



• The photo of Cassi hanging off a bus makes her look, strangely enough, like she's hanging off a bus. Sadly, fashion and buses don't mix.



• Tahnee manages to not look fat, ugly, retarded or boring in her shot and so is deemed the best of the day. Until the judges remember this guy:
  
  
  THE LONDON LOOK!

  
  And award the prize to him instead.

As it always does, it comes down to just two - pale brunette Tahnee and pale redhead Adele. And given that there's already one pale redhead in the room making shitloads of money from walking up and down a catwalk wearing pretty dresses it's fairly obvious who's going to get the boot this week - bye Adele. She packs her bags and checks out of the hotel and... hang on, hotel? What the hell happened to the model mansion?

Uh oh, did Cassi leave a fag burning...?

Seriously though, what DID happen to the model mansion? Why are they staying in a hotel? Leave your thoughts in the comments, why don't you. And before you go anywhere else, head to Jo Blogs for more model fun times, LONDON STYLE.

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I realise I'm letting you all down, but...

ANTM episode 9 recap will be up tomorrow morning (that's Wednesday, June 24), instead of tonight.

I'd explain why, but I'd have to use excuses that involve red wine and friends and they're not the kind of excuses that earn one any sympathy.

So - Wednesday morning, I promise.

x

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Australia's Next Top Model Wrap Up: Series 5/Ep 8

Just like the Jacksons without Latoya, Randy and Janet, we're down to the most talented five - can you feel it?

"Lola's gone. Who cares, not a big fuss. I was expecting her to go a hell of a lot earlier so it was like 'Finally she's gone!'," spews Cassi in an outpouring of emotion so heartfelt, Hallmark immediately commissions her to write a series of greeting cards.

Only $4.95!

"I don't really mind who leaves now, as long as it's not me," says Adele, as Captain Obvious dances a jig behind her.

"I would have preferred Adele left because I find her boring," monotones Tahnee, as the pot and the kettle dance a jig behind her.

"I can't stand Clare, Tahnee can't stand Adele, and we all don't like Cassi," explains Franky helpfully. For those of you still struggling with this complicated set of relationships, here's a venn diagram to help:

Next week's lesson: Jungian mandalas.

In celebration of all this intelligent posturing, the girls are woken up at Model HQ the next morning by the most highbrow Sarah Mail delivery of the series so far (yes, even including the plastic toy farm animals with their photos stuck on) - an Asian opera singer in their backyard.

"I'm not used to seeing an opera in our backyard, so it was a bit of a shock," says Tahnee without a hint of comedy. Other things Tahnee isn't used to seeing in her backyard: 50,000 screaming fans dancing to The Who, 43 chefs baking a giant cheesecake and black conjoined twins playing the banjo.

"Life isn't a dress rehearsal - make sure you're the main event, not a shadow watching from the wings," reads Adele.

"OPERA SINGING!" shrieks Tahnee, seemingly forgetting that she is in A MODELLING COMPETITION.

Despite all historical evidence of the fact that models make horrific actresses, the girls are shunted off to the National Institute of Dramatic Arts for their first bullshit challenge highly informative and useful class for the day.

"Immediately we saw the NIDA sign I think everyone knew we were doing something to do with acting," explains Franky in a show of such intelligence MENSA recruitment agents fall over themselves rushing to the phones.

Inside NIDA they meet Pease Porridge and two actory looking types, one of which I hope is from the wardrobe department because Adele has forgotten to wear pants today:

How embarrassing.

"There are plenty of beautiful women in the world, but what sets a model apart is her ability to play a role and make us believe," says Pease - a sentence that would be completely correct were the word "model" replaced with "actress".

For reasons that are best left unexplained, the next three minutes are filled with footage of the girls walking up to one another and saying "pussy pussy pussy pussy".

Let's move on, shall we?

This is followed by an improv exercise in which the girls have to give a prop-inspired eulogy at a funeral for a friend, a potentially dull activity that is livened up considerably when Clare turns it into an episode of CSI.

"Jenny - always the popular girl, the head of the clique. Well NOT ANYMORE, AND THIS IS THE BOOK I READ BEFORE I KILLED HER!" she gasps triumphantly, while everyone around her bears the facial expression equivalent of this:

Oo-ee-oo-ee-ooooo...

Not to be outdone, Tahnee grabs a bra as her prop and gives a stirring speech about her dead friend's perky breasts, while Cassi stares at the lights to get the ol' tear ducts working. Ah Cassi, she's come a long way since that face scrunching incident in episode five.

But, without a doubt, the Oscar goes to Franky, who manages to conjure up more fake tears here than she did when Joh Bailey cut her hair. Waterworks in full swing, tears cascading down her cheeks, she wails about her poor, dead friend Jenny and how she's going to miss her so much... I can't help but think how useful all this training will be when Italian Vogue calls and asks them to model the latest in waterproof mascara while reenacting a scene from a mob funeral. In a cow suit. But actually it's really quite an amazing performance from Franky - so at least she's got a gig on Neighbours when this is all over.

Back at Model HQ and the highbrow hijinx continue, this time with a Shakespeare performance in the living room - by puppets. So, actually probably more lowbrow then.

"We heard these weird Shakespeare noises coming from the living room," says Tahnee.

Before anyone gets a chance to work out what that delightfully mental sentence could possibly mean, we find out by way of the crappiest Punch and Judy show ever, to which the girls react in the most appropriate way:

The face says it all.

After the puppets hand over another Sarah Mail (hey - at least it's a step up from a bottle floating in the pool) the girls trundle off to an advertising studio to meet Pease Porridge and Dicko's younger brother, who obviously caught a bit of that Punch and Judy show too:

Methinks the puppet doth protest too much.

Pease tells the models they're going to be starring in a television commercial for "Australia's most valued brand", Telstra. For the record, it's currently most valued at about 25 cents.

"This could be the start of your professional modelling careers," says Pease, neglecting to mention that his definition of "professional" doesn't include the clause about money changing hands.

"Just don't overact," says Dicko Jr, as Cassi and Franky try to think up ways they can involve hysterical crying in a Telstra advert.

Split into teams of two for their auditions, the girls have to pretend to be friends in a hotel room getting ready for a ritzy night out on the town. This involves lots of girly noises and dicking about with blusher brushes.

Clare and Franky are up first, and do a passable job with a squeal factor of 2/10 and a blusher brush dicking about factor of 6/10.

"It's really believable at the moment, I really believe you guys are friends," says Pease.

Remember.

Cassi and Adele fare less well, upping the squeal factor by 7 to 9/10, but not scoring quite so high on the blusher brush dicking about factor with just 3/10. Also, it seems Adele has once again forgotten to wear pants.

Is she a nevernude...?

Franky goes back in for round two with Tahnee, scoring a clear 0 on both the squealing and blusher brush dicking about factors and producing something that's actually believable and cute. Predictably enough, the other scrags label it "fake" with "too much acting".

Coincidentally, the same thing was said of Casablanca upon its release.

Tahnee gets the gig, Franky is made her sidekick and Clare is given an extra role on the condition she drop her pussy. Pussy pussy pussy pussy. Er, sorry - got a bit distracted there. I meant on the condition she drop her "prissy" act by the next morning - or Cassi gets her part. Although given that the next thing we see is a rather surprise-killing piece of footage of Clare, Franky and Tahnee hamming it up in front of a television camera accompanied by the words "COMING UP AFTER THE BREAK" I think it's safe to assume she succeeds in this endeavour. Good one, editors.

At the shoot it's all hands on deck as the three chosen modelettes set about getting haired and makeupped. Franky squeals with excitement, Tahnee jiggles about in nervousness, and Clare decides to out herself as either a) a racist or b) an adult contemporary music fan by sitting next to Franky on the couch and singing Ebony and Ivory for no apparent reason.

"Clare's still being a bit prissy," snipes Cassi once the shoot is underway, in the vain hope that someone will hear her and drag Clare off set. Unsurprisingly, no one is paying any attention to Cassi at all, possibly because she is standing next to the personality black hole that is Adele who is sucking in anything within a five metre radius that is even vaguely interesting.

"That would be so emebarrassing to watch on TV," she continues, trying in vain to convince herself that being in a national ad campaign for Telstra would be a bad thing.

Yeah - it's not like you get national recognition or anything...

"Oh well, I've got better luck getting it out there than in here," slags Cassi. As she's not pointing to any orifices at the time we assume she's talking about scoring television work.

"I'm really not jealous, because I know I'll be able to get that type of stuff when I get out, so I'm really not jealous at all," she continues, before adding "You got that? I'm not jealous - NOT. JEALOUS. AT ALL. Jealous? Not. Me? Not jealous."

"I'll just go for another ad and I'll probably get it then," she finishes. As long as that ad isn't for humility, goodwill or charm she should be fine.

The commercial shot and in the can, and Cassi unfortunately neither shot NOR in a can, it's time for another Sarah Mail.

"Play the part and drive it home - put your emotion into motion" is the extremely cryptic and not at all completely-obviously-about-shooting-a-car-commercial message. Naturally, the girls are totally surprised to turn up the next day to a shoot for a car commercial. But not as surprised as they are to be greeted by the fourth member of Bros:

When will I, will I be famous?

Not to mention actor/comedian Steve Martin, who will be their photographer for the day:

You might remember me from such films as...

Long time ANTM watchers will remember Steve was responsible for the best Top Model photo shoot ever last year, in which he asked models to dress up as ostriches, pretend to play violins to fairies and swat flies while blowing and jumping on one leg. Let us all pray he has not yet given up his crack addiction.

But before we go any further, Blondie McPins is there to up the ante with a few plane tickets to London for the lucky four who survive the next elimination.

"Oh my god, I want to model overseas," blahs Adele, seemingly forgetting that she's ALREADY modelled overseas - about three metres over seas standing on a pylon in a Chanel suit two episodes ago.

Part of this week's shoot involves each model being assigned a historical "style icon" to emulate while hopping in and out of a Ford - sadly, no one is assigned Britney Spears, although Cassi is cast completely against type and given the equally classy role of Victoria Beckham. Somewhere in the distance, Mikarala can be heard screaming "DON'T LET THEM GIVE YOU A FARKIN VICTORIA BECKHAM HAIRCUT!"

Clare is made up as Twiggy and Tahnee is given the role of Elizabeth Taylor, which is great seeing as she's never heard of her before. Yes: Elizabeth. Taylor. Ten bucks says Tahnee can name all the Jonas brothers, though.

Pease reaches into the big bag of obvious and pulls out the biggest, most obvious card of them all for Franky - Grace Jones. Despite no one under the age of 30 having a bloody clue who Grace Jones is, the ANTM producers always find a way to work her into at least one photo shoot because it allows everyone to wank on about "masculine femininity" and it gives the makeup artists a reason to use orange blusher. Plus Franky's female, she's black and she has short hair. Duh, who else could she be?

Not really an "icon"...

Too political...

Too... er...

Adele, meanwhile, is handed the role of Greta Garbo.

Or is it Gretta THE garbo?

It is about this time we start to realise Adele may not be going to London.

Car commercial shoot in a nutshell:

• Looking like a strung out Cyndi Lauper on a hair gel binge, Adele almost breaks her neck trying to drape herself over the Ford's bonnet but still ends up being outshone by what is essentialy an inanimate object. "What a CAR!" Pease yells enthusiastically as the car sits there, doing absolutely nothing.



• Tahnee looks amazingly, ridiculously, creepily like Elizabeth Taylor - or as she understands it, some woman who used to be big in the movies and stuff - and all form of thought exits my mind in a puff of smoke as I am completely captivated by the utter gorgeousness of what I'm watching.

LOL.

• Steve asks Clare for some ideas about "some really 60s stuff" she could do, and she suggests "leaning on the bonnet", completely missing her opportunity to do anything involving psychedelic drugs and/or free love. Oh well.



• Cassi attempts Posh but ends up more Scary after being outshone by a pair of oversized sunglasses and a bad wig.



• Despite looking like Dwayne Wayne from A Different World without the flip glasses, Franky completely rocks it as Grace Jones, a venture that is helped rather amply by crazy makeup, a gold glitter jacket with shoulderpads and some crazy facial expressions.

Back at model HQ, the girls excitedly discuss the possibility of going to London - while Cassi sneaks away to call her boyfriend and bitch about the exact same thing.

"Yeah it'd be exciting, but it means I won't be able to call you," she whines.

"If I was to weigh up the odds I'd probably prefer to go home than to go to London," she says, in a watertight case for why Cassi should never become a bookie.

Yes, I see why she'd want to stay home now...

This is followed by the 12 inch dance remix of "I'm going home, I don't want to be here anymore and I don't care what you say cos I don't give a shit" by DJ Cassi Van Den Dungen feat. Franky and Tahnee. No one dances.

Over at the elimination warehouse and after the success of last week's toothpaste fancy dress it looks like they're at it again! This week Franky has come as Cassi, Clare has come as no-pants Adele, Cassi is masquerading as a tablecloth while a rather confused Tahnee has come as a garbage bag after a misunderstanding about "Greta Garbo". Adele has come as anyone you've ever seen walking down a mall ever.

Top marks for all concerned.

So, without further ado let's picture bitch:

• Franky looks rock and roll with a twist of psycho (even if her legs aren't QUITE as bangin' as Miss Jones'), and damn I want that jacket.



• Clare looks rather like a trout caught in a fishing net. A beautiful, Twiggy-esque trout. God knows where the car she's supposed to be advertising is.



• "You lok like you've got a knowing in your eye - which is really an oxymoron with you," says Identity Dawson to Tahnee who nods, smiles and wonders what "oxymoron" means.



• Adele looks like the lovechild of Cyndi Lauper and Cynthia Nixon that's been attacked by an airbrush. Needless to say, this is not quite the look anyone wants to see, ever.



• After spouting off all week about wanting to go home, Cassi flips the record over and plays the B side, "The judges liked my photo so I reckon I'll stick around a bit longer, thanks". No one dances.



• "We've really got to make the right decision this week," Blondie instructs the other judges, who all carefully cross "make wrong decision" off their TO DO lists.

And so it goes, down to the final two: Franky and Adele. Or, if you're Clare: ebony and ivory.

And as it turns out Franky WON'T be going to Hollywood - or London, actually - as she's kicked out the door in favour of the one-look-wonder-ranga Adele. Never mind Franky - if you work on that egg rap a little bit more and nick that gold jacket from wardrobe before you leave, you've got a bright career in front of you as a Grace Jones impersonator.

What are you doing? Don't go! Leave me a comment, and then head over to Jo Blogs for more model mayhem.

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