Double Exposure

The last two episodes of 8th and Ocean have been great. Could MTV pull off the hat-trick and give us three in a row? Does EdHill know how to use spell-check? That’s right, last night’s episode was sub-par at best. No rampant whoring, no gratuitous male mascara, not even a single shot of Vinci! Instead we get to watch two careers going in different directions: Britt’s is just starting to take off, while Tracie’s is going down the shitter.

The way the producers showcased the two models was weird, though, since both castings focused on the girls naughty bits. Why was it a good career move for Britt to suck on ice cubes whilst undergoing a PAP smear, but a bad career move for Tracie to model a bandolier full of energy drink cans? Guess that’s why I’m not in the modeling business. Although if you’re reading this, Irene Marie, and you ever find a client needing a firm set of bitch-tits, I’m your man. This week starts off with Tracie hanging up the phone. And boy, is she pissed! Did she lose another loan to Ditech? No, silly, she lost another job to age discrimination. She was booked to shoot an eight-page editorial plus cover in Miami, but the shoot changed locations to New York, and now they don’t want her. I’m really surprised the client didn’t pay to fly Tracie up there. Surely she qualifies for an AARP discount.

After this bit-o-drama, we’re treated to the offeeshal 8th and Ocean theme song, as performed by The Afters. I gotta say, as much as I hated this song for the first six or seven weeks, lately it’s been growing on me. And not just because of the relentless pimping by the band’s A&R person. Really, I liken it to more of a fungal infection. Fortunately, it’s nothing the song stylings of Maynard James Keenan can’t clear up.

Irene Marie is calling Britt to tell her she’s been booked for a cover try and an eight-to-ten page editorial. Why is Iron Maiden doing grunt work? I guess she doesn’t trust the Lazy Susan to make booking calls any longer. (All props to B-Side for the Lazy Susan moniker.) According to the Iron One it’s a very exciting moment and a great break for Britt. After all, it’s not every day a magazine wants to feature the Bride of Christ in a swimsuit spread.

What Would Jesus Wear? Not this.

Speaking of which, the gold swimsuit picked by the designer is hideous. With a capital H-I-D. While Britt is changing, Indashio (the designer) asks Irene about Britt’s background, and seems a bit taken aback to learn her dad’s a preacher. He says the fashion industry is one of the wildest industries there is, and he can’t wait to see her face when she comes out in that gold monstrosity. It’s just too bad she’s not coming out.

After a few minutes, Irene goes back to the changing room to check on Britt. One look at the suit and I understand why she doesn’t want to be seen in it. Seriously, even Tara Reid would say this suit is too skanky. And when Irene tells Britt she can’t wear her pink panties with it, the moment just goes from bad to worse. (While we’re on the subject of pink panties, have any of you heard about Manties? They’re panties. For guys. I shit you not.) Anyway, Britt finally comes out to model the swimsuit, and the designer says he needs to make a “few” adjustments. Which is like Santino saying he needs to add a few embellishments. The designer laughs it off, and says that Britt’s dad is going to kill him for making his daughter wear that suit. Duh! Of course he is. Everyone knows preachers hate gold lame´.

Guess Irene isn’t too mad at Lazy Susan, as she’s trusted her to let Tracie know she’s been booked for a casting today. Of course, it could just be because it’s Tracie. It’s nothing that’s going to further her career, but Suzy says it’s good money. Ironically, this is the exact opposite of the advice I received when I accepted the TVgasm gig. When Tracie tells the other girls she got a job with Rip-It, the twins wonder aloud if it’s a jeans company that makes ripped jeans. Not even close. Turns out Rip-It is an energy drink. At the photo shoot, Tracie meets with the client, who tells her today’s casting is to see how she’d look in their current campaign concept: a hot chick wearing a bikini, cowboy hat and bandolier filled with cans of Rip-It. Everything about this shoot makes me feels dirty. And it’s not even the good kind of dirty where I have to take a 30-second break. I’m surprised the photographer, who goes by the name of Alectron, doesn’t try to tell Tracie the drink is full of protein. (You’ll get that one in a minute.)

Just Rip It…

Rip It good.

On the way back, Tracie gets a call from Kelly, who wants to know how the shoot went. Tracie tells her it was the worst casting she’s ever been on, and she’ll no doubt have bad memories forever. But it’s nothing an evening at Prime with the girls won’t cure. Yeah, about that, Tracie. Seems Kelly and the girls have made other plans to go to Function tonight. (Why are all the bars in Miami named after calculator buttons?) Anyway, Kelly doesn’t even extend the invite to Tracie, who gives her a “whatever” before hanging up and throwing the phone down on the floor of the cab. If I were Tracie, I’d think twice about using that phone again.

That night, Britt tells the other girls about her fitting with the golden swimsuit. She doesn’t think it’s asking too much for her “ninnies” to be covered. “It’s not like they’re that big, it’s not that hard,” she says, as if we hadn’t noticed. Even if she gets offered the job, she’s not sure if she’s going to take it. She will, however, take her leave of the other girls and heads off to bed.

Of course, Britt’s buzzkill isn’t going to stop the other girls from going out. Or talking about Tracie. Talesha says Tracie’s mad at them for changing plans, so she’s not going with them to Function. Tracie’s had a “funky four days” though, and Talesha says she’s not going to feed into it. Kelly would rather go to Function with the other girls than to Prime with Tracie and a bunch of 50-year-old men. So Prime is like the Elephant Bar? Anyway, right as she says that, who should walk in but Tracie, who asks if they could at least call and let her know the next time they decide they’re not going out with her. Uhm, I think that’s what Kelly did when she called you and said they were going to Function, TRACIE. Talesha said Tracie didn’t call her to see if she still wanted to go, so she doesn’t understand what Tracie’s problem is. Looks like Talesha’s going to feed into that after all. Tracie says that Talesha said yesterday that she’d go out with Tracie today, so what’s the difference between yesterday and today? Talesha’s response? “A whole 24 hours.” Oh, snap! Tracie leaves the room, but not before calling Talesha a bitch. Too bad she said it under her breath. I’d love to see these two throw down.

The next day, Tracie goes to the agency to tell Allee about the Rip-It casting. “It was awful and nasty and awful!” she tells her. “They made us dress up like dolls with cowboy hats and this bustier bullshit and…” “But money is money,” Allee interrupts. If that’s so, then why aren’t you trying out for the gig, ALLEE? Oh that’s right, because Rip-It doesn’t want Nanny McPhee as their spokestits. Tracie then starts yammering on about the tension in the house, and how something’s got to change, because she’s tired and just doesn’t want to keep doing it.

Britt calls Irene to see if there’s any way she can skip out of the shoot. While Iron Butterfly doesn’t want to tell Britt what to do, she points out that both Britt and the agency have been working very hard to get her to a place where she can be competitive. Britt says she’s not going to be comfortable, but Irene tells her it’s a good thing to do. So much for not telling Britt what to do. ” ‘Kay,” is Britt’s meek response. As long as she can keep her personal standards, she’ll do it, because that’s her job. Ironically, that’s the same line I gave B-Side and J-Unit when I accepted the TVgasm gig.

Jazz hands!

The photographer’s name is Yann, although his energy level is such that he should spell it “Yawn”. After having Britt sit legs akimbo, he says he wants her to give him “that look”. You know, the one he usually sees right as his date realizes she’d been slipped a roofy. Pelvic exam complete, Yawn puts Britt through a series of humiliating poses designed to break down her Midwestern defenses. At this rate, she’ll be having Tom Cruise’s next baby before you can say “By Xenu’s Beard!!”

During the switch to their next location, Britt calls Talesha. She says the shoot is awful and provocative and she’s so uncomfortable. Talesha’s advice: Just try to get through it. And to speak up for herself. Before her next shot, Britt asks the designer if he thinks what they’re doing is immoral. “No, baby,” he says. “You’re just wearing a swimsuit.” Yeah, a skin swimsuit, but a swimsuit nevertheless. Eventually, the shoot is over, and Britt gets a look at the shots. Judging by her reaction, this is not where she thought the Yellow Brick Road would lead.

Later, we see Tracie talking with Irene Marie. She tells Steel Magnolias she’s not as happy as she could be. And it certainly doesn’t help that she can’t talk to any of the other girls at the apartment about what’s going on. If only she weren’t a few weeks older than the other girls! The last few days of drama have forced Tracie to make a decision: she’s moving to LA. “Wha wha wha?” Irene asks if she has an objective in LA. Besides having B-Side’s babies, of course. Turns out Tracie wants to try her hand at acting. Wow, I totally did not see that one coming. Irene says Tracie will be facing a lot of competition, but it’s a good challenge, and she thinks Tracie’s doing it at a good time in her career. Primarily because even the people from Depends think Tracie’s too old to model their product.

That night, Britt calls her Mom to talk about the shoot. Although the way Britt keeps rolling her eyes heavenward it makes me wonder if her mom’s not already shuffled off this mortal coil and Britt’s just talking to a dial tone. She tells her “mom” about the gold swimsuit, and about another shot they took in da’ club. She kept her bra on, but since it was shot from behind, it looks like she went topless. And now Britt’s afraid that people will think she went topless, and she would never go topless! That’s just not something she would do. Other things she wouldn’t do: two chicks at the same time. “It just sucks because it was my first editorial and every single outfit was like the hoochiest thing.” At that she starts to cry, and says she’s afraid her dad will be disappointed if he sees the shots. Britt should be glad she’s not from Arkansas, or she’d have to worry about a lot more than just her Dad’s disappointment. Britt says she just wants to do things where she can dress up and wear make-up. She’ll even wear ugly things; she just doesn’t want to be naked. She’ll even wear ugly things? What a sacrifice.

Nah, where’s your God now, Moses Britt?

The next day at lunch Tracie breaks the news to the other girls. She says she’s tired of it all. It’s just been a funky year and she’s trying to put her foot down and change things. She’s not saying goodbye, though, she’s just moving on. And she’s moving on this week. A few tears are shed by all. After their lunch, Britt and Tracie go for a walk, talking about the past few months and all that’s happened. Tracie tells her if she needs any advice to call her. “This business has a tendency to flip people’s personalities, and I don’t want you to do that,” she tells Britt. “I don’t want you to turn into that girl.” Thanks, Tracie, but I think you’re a little late. Where were you when Britt posed not-topless? Oh that’s right, wearing an energy drink bustier.

Later that week, we see Tracie packing, which makes all the girls sad. And there are few things sadder than a room full of depressed models. When one of the girls asks about her portfolio, Tracie says she can’t let it go yet. “I am Irene Marie until I get a new agency,” she says. Just as I am TVgasm until I can get those bastards at TWOP to return my emails.

There are lots of hugs all around, then shots of Tracie walking out the door, Tracie walking down the hallway, Tracie waiting for a cab, Tracie going to the airport… We get it, she’s leaving. Meanwhile, the other girls are sitting by the pool talking about what they’re going to do when their modeling days are over. Talesha thinks someone should start a “model rehab”. Briana thinks that’s a great idea, and they should teach how to transition from the modeling world back into a normal life.

Fast Times at 8th and Ocean.

Speaking of which, Britt thinks it’ll be weird going from making a “couple thousand dollars a day to making a couple hundred dollars a day.” That is fucked up on so many levels. Talesha says they just need to be prepared for the day they can’t do it anymore, because there’s going to be a young 16-year old girl who’ll kick their butt someday. Briana sums it up nicely: “tits don’t last forever.” I dare say truer words have ne’er been spoken.

Your thoughts?