MAKE ME A SUPERMODEL

Out of these washing up liquid bottles and bits of sticky backed plastic. Ha ha ha ha ahem…

I have never seen Ch 5 Make me a supermodel before, (or as I like to call it “Make me look at hot teens cavorting round in their undies”) and the reason I am watching it for the first time could possibly be due to the fact that they are having boys in it for the first time ever.

Anyway, it is typical reality TV fodder – put a bunch of kids in a house together and eliminate them one at a time, all the while making them cry and do stupid things for our amusement. As they want to be models, all the stupid/cry making things revolve around wearing horrendous outfits, stripping to their undies repeatedly, being given brutal haircuts, told they have fat thighs etc etc.

The boys:

Let’s see – there are two spidey ones with shaved heads. One is wiry and one is muscly (I quite like the muscly one, but apparently he only has one facial expression so won’t get very far). There is a cocky, tanned one with a stupid haircut. He is handsome but v annoying and laddish. His name is Waz or something, which says it all really. There are two skinny twelve year old looking ones with horrendous hair helmuts who def need to eat several pies. One of the skinny ones says he is “very editorial” - I have decided that this is fashion speak for “freakish looking”-– and has giant tomb like teeth. He sits around and says things like “I am gay and they are all straight, so we’ve got nothing to talk about” in a wurzely accent. I hate him already.

My favourite one is super hunky and handsome with dark hair and very blue eyes, though he does have a rather unfortunate jesus style beard/long hair combo going on. In the first week he refused to take part in one of the photo shoots as he “did not feel like it”, making me think “well what are doing on the programme then, you stupid hippy” and later on (in a super gay locker room/underpant group photo session) was accused of not taking direction (ie not being able to change his blue steel facial expression). Still, he is fit and has not done anything dickish since then. Beardy to win!!

My vote for favourite perviest moment so far is when the boys are inspected for un-model-esque body hair and then have their shapely buttocks waxed. My god! this is practically a fetish video! Cue lots of scenes of boys groaning and biting the pillow as strangers fiddle around with their arses. Good to see Channel 5 returning to their P0rn roots at last!

The girls:

I am not as ahem motivated to write about the girls but lets see. There is a v tall black girl who is v beautiful but rather generic, if you know what I mean. There are two blonde girls – a skinny (it is a bit redundant to say skinny as they are all twiglets – just assume they all are…) Swedish one who actually looks a lot better since she had her brutal haircut and another one who is a bit common and cries a lot (I think she was the target of “fat thigh” comments though of course she has a great figure). There is a pale girl with very long dark hair in a centre parting and huge shelly duvall teeth. She does not look all that but is undeniably photogenic, “Editorial” even…. Cried when she had an inch cut off the bottom of her hair, the big baby, and also had a whngeing fit when forced to exercise and felt faint. Hmm, maybe you should actually eat something sometimes…. There is an English rosey one who is quite pretty but not all that. She has been accused of being too dithery and wet so is doomed I am sure. My favourite is an Eritrean girl who is v pretty and also v shy. I hope she becomes more confident and WINS!!

C5 are having 4 episodes a week - madness!! - so we’ll get to the conclusion in no time.


SARAH WRITES:

Mark got in there before me, damn his eyes! The episode I watched on Tuesday had the pre-supers learning how to walk like a supermodel. One of the boys said it was so hard, having to walk and breathe and remember one's Blue Steel look at all times. Then they had to dress each other up like members of 80s half-hit-wonders Cabaret Voltaire and strut their stuff while a bald queen shouted: "Remember! Be Butch! Be Macho! Be Cool!" Actually, why are all fashionista men bald or potato-faced?

Then they had to cook dinner for the girls while still wearing their kitten heels. More moaning about it being far too difficult to grate cheese while wearing heels or whatever from the gayer. I was once dumped by somebody who looked a bit like him (only with a tiny bit more meat on his bones), so I hate him too.

Meanwhile, the girls were carted off to their first shoot in Slough. The photographer and stylist explained their Hitchockian vision (yes, there were blank looks all round) of young girls being pursued by helicopters in...their underwear! Yay! We just had to get a perv factor in there, didn't we, producers? So, the pretty, slightly common blonde was told that her utterly gorgeous legs were too heavy in the thigh area. Shelley Duvall was the most editorial because she jumped up in the air or something and the fungus-faced photographer all but said that the nice black girl should give up all hope and try porn. The Swedish one has two expressions: Big Pout, and Little Pout. That's twice as many as Claudia Schiffer, but the photographer seems to think she may not be a contender.

The following day, the girls got to play dress up on Tower Bridge, and the Eritrean girl proved that she was a total sweetheart once again. The boys played football with another bald fashionista guy - well, except James Who Is Gay, who huffed about in goal doing strange puppet movements with his arms and pointing out that he can't play football because he's gay (Mark: that never stopped Freddie Ljungberg!!). Then it was straight into the locker room for... an underwear shoot! Oh boy. One of them had to get bigger pants hur hur...and Rachel Hunter dropped by to see how they were getting along. Yeah...right. Apparently Mark's new husband is called Albert (how sweet, that was my grandad's name), and he wasn't smouldering enough for the camera. Meanwhile James Who Is Gay and the Indie Singer Boy puffed out their teeny little chests, hid their scrawny arms behind their hair helmets, and pouted with all their might.

That evening the bald photographer revealed a new wing of the Palais de Supermodel: a gallery corridor that featured his "best shots" of competitors so far. Albert's little beardy face looked slightly disappointed.