The model war between Great Britain and the United States winds gently to a close this week with all the tension of a friendly racquetball tournament. Would a non-American win America’s Next Top Model for the first time? Where have they been hiding Ms. Jay? And how does Vogue Italia feel about sharing their model with Forever 21?
The final two contenders are, for once, not even fighting. Doe-eyed bouncy Sophie, with her re-dyed cotton candy anime hair, embraces Laura and they both romp around the house semi-adorably, doing victory laps around the table. Sophie doesn’t even take the chance to trash talk Laura in front of the confessional cameras. The sharpest thing she has to say is that she has a stronger walk than Laura, which is true, but pretty boring. I would have settled for some sassy comments from Laura about the fall of the British Empire, or some comparison to the Queen’s corgi fleet.
Because the winner of this round will be some sort of singer-perfumist-correspondent-lipstick model of all trades, the ladies first have to do the traditional Covergirl commercial and photo shoot. This time, perhaps because of just how painful the acting has been in past cycles, the commercial is mostly a montage of footage of the girls on the show, with a few moments cut in of scripted selling and lip gloss hocking. Sophie goes through her shot with barely a hiccup, in part thanks to her experience in the top two of Britain’s Next Top Model. But Laura, who laughed in the face of bungee jumping off a tower in an evening dress, finally has the pressure get to her. Her nervous shakes make the photo shoot difficult, but she makes it through. It’s only en route to the commercial filming that she begins to have a full-blown panic attack, shaking and sweating in the backseat of a van that whisks her to the hospital.
When she returns, presumably tranquilized, she looks emotionally wrecked. The next Tyramail reads “Bongiourno Bellissima.” Laura corrects Sophie’s pronunciation, despairingly. “We’re going to Italy,” she sighs in despair. “Oh, that might be fun!” Sophie trills. But of course, it’s only their introduction to the editors of Vogue Italia, who sponsor a “hyper-stylized spa inspired shoot” which mostly means that the ladies are in nude underwear in a sauna. Laura’s cool energy revives—she is a pirate, or something—and she impresses Valentina Serra, who coos, “She shoots like a dancer!”