Now is the workroom of our discontent. Upon returning from Milk’s elimination, the gals are full of reasons to whine. Like, they’re sad to lose another sister, but barely. Trinity is frustrated at having been in the bottom two again because somehow it never dawned on her that the show would have different requirements than her usual life. (What challenges did she hope to encounter? Making a sandwich? Retracing her steps to find her lost keys?) Laganja is unhappy because she isn’t being showered with a limitless stream of unequivocal praise. Courtney thinks she should be getting credit for more than just her looks. I don’t know, they’re all getting free drinks and unlimited make-up, so I have trouble mustering a lot of sympathy. Call me when someone loses an arm.
Though day two usually starts off with some light bitchery, this episode fast-forwards straight into SheMail. I guess the ladies were all nice to each other and the editors didn’t know what to do. After a video message laid thick with cosmetic puns, Ru appears in person in a beige god damned suit. I didn’t even know her eyes could see beige! The mini challenge, she shares, is something vague about nails and hand modeling and vegetables. I’m sure she told someone what the judging criteria were, but she forgot to let the audience in on the deal. It ends up being an excuse for our host to wow us with her ability to turn absolutely any plant matter into a sexual pun. So I guess Ru wins?
No. Laganja wins. It’s no coincidence that her only success so far has been in a challenge that mandated total silence.
The week’s main exercise is about the two things Ru most enjoys manufacturing: cosmetics and drama. She’ll be separating the girls into cooperative pairs based on who will have the most difficulty cooperating; they’ll then produce 30-second commercials targeting various demographics. Best frenemies Adore and Laganja will aim for mean teens, but can’t agree on the tactic to take. I guess we shouldn’t be shocked that the lady named after drugs isn’t brimming with top-notch ideas. At least her partner greets each new verbal turd with another of the best facial expressions I have ever seen.
Courtney is palpably impatient with Joslyn’s hero worship, so of course the two of them are matched up. They’ll be peddling to rich, brittle housewives, which turns the wealth of passive aggression on their team into something of an advantage. Bianca earns Trinity as a partner after getting on her case about being too defeatist in her attitude; they’ll cover the broad spectrum of women known as “working girls.” And most obviously, Darienne dislikes Ben and is thus damned to join her in selling cheap lip gloss to cougars, just like Dante’s Inferno says. The animosity between them is so great that the sound department probably went over budget inserting all the wood block and metal-on-metal sound effects because heaven forfend a scathing remark went unpunctuated.
The filming process for the first pair goes about how you’d expect: Adore glides through it as lightly and emptily as a balloon on the wind, while Laganja exerts herself like a woman trying to win the Tour de France on a stationary bike. Courtney and Joslyn seem equally confused about all parts of their commercial, from what their concept is to who says which lines to what constitutes an actual pun. At least they involved the Pit Crew, which in my mind is just never a bad idea. Dela and Darienne, by contrast, have a strong point of view, though Ru seems mighty dubious of their surgically-themed skit. Despite having read more bitches than 2 Chainz’s spellchecker, Bianca becomes an avatar for positivity and encourages Trinity so hard that she actually becomes better. The people who market The Secret should license clips from this episode, because the transformation we're witnessing is as close to real sorcery as I've ever seen.
As they prep for the black-and-white runway, the teams reveal their various worries. Joslyn is concerned that Courtney doesn’t see her as an equal, which is accurate: she doesn't. Bianca is concerned that Trinity might dislike her, so they have a nice conversation and patch things up. Darienne is concerned that Ben might not understand that they’re not friends, so she makes a few more awkward, shady comments. And Laganja is concerned that people might not be persistently and acutely aware of her at every moment, so she wears a pair of novelty glasses with a mustache hanging off them.
On the main stage, there’s a lot of fantastic work being done. Santino finally gives me a reason to acknowledge him by calling Courtney’s look “Klaus Nomi Malone,” though I’m a little peeved that he came up with a better punch line than I ever could. Darienne and Bianca both serve new silhouettes, while Trinity rolls a critical hit with that dice gown. But no one can surpass the accidentally fabulous Delano/Estranja ticket: they're fashionable-ish at best, but their razor-sharp dullness earns them the top spot and a basket of soaps. Yay, soap!
The judges are baffled by Joslyn’s attempt at genderqueer nude illusion, but her team ultimately gets a pass. (Actually, guest judges Leah Remini and Lanie Kazan seem a little baffled by most of what’s happening; both funny ladies, but neither drag connoisseurs, apparently.) The bigger worry seems to be the Creme/Lake commercial, which leaned so heavily on the plastic surgery angle that they claim not to know what was being sold. (I’ll give you a hint, guys: it’s make-up, just like all the other ads. Seriously?)
And so, the big girl battles the girl with the big head. It’s an epic, Goliath vs. Goliath lip sync that teaches us two things. One: at any given judging, half the girls are wearing a stack of two to four outfits just in case. Two: do not leave Darienne alone on the stage while you change clothes, because she will sop that spotlight up! Her gag of taking fake tips from an invisible audience was inspired, and Ru’s decision to keep her is completely justified. Of course, BenDeLaCreme is an obvious front-runner, and we can’t just sashay her away. So both contenders stick around, and suddenly the double episode feels less like an exciting gift and more like just a really long night.
Oh, who am I kidding. They could broadcast this show 24 hours a day and I’d just give up sleep until the season ended.
Check back tomorrow for my recap of the second hour!
