That was the important question posed in the latest episode of MTV's sad mockumentary. Girl Model went to Kelly Cutrone's birthday party and she cried, though she didn't want to.
In the beginning there was brunch. Whitney was there, and so was friendo Erin wearing terrible lipstick, and some other handbag, and Girl Model. Whitney invited everyone to scary fashion PR lady Kelly's big birthday party, because all people over 35 want idiot ladymooks at their birthday parties so they don't feel sad about getting older. Whitney warned the girls that Kelly always tells it like it is and Girl Model relished the idea of having her outfit critiqued by this mysterious stranger.
So off they bopped to the shindig, all dark and candle-lit and loud like every other event on this show. Girl Model wore some sort of blue frock, encouraged by stupidity and champagne to ask the fearsome Cutrone what she really thought. So she did, in embarrassing fashion, and Kelly kind of glowered at her and said "I don't like your leggings" and then leaned in close and yelled, "Are you OK? You're so skinny!" Girl Model's face crinkled in awkwardness (and secret joy) and she said "No, it's nothing like that." By "that" I guess we can assume she meant anorexia or bulimia. Model code words. That.
Kelly kept on saying it because it's true and Kelly is funny and Girl Model is a twit. Twit enough to run out of the party feeling bad, even though she had straight up asked Kelly about her appearance, probably because she expected the glowing praise and "oh you're so beautiful"s that she needs in order to survive (in place of food, ha ha ha ha ha, because she's so skinny and it's 1995!!). Well Whitney went trundling down the street after Girl Model and tried to comfort the little wraith without burning any bridges with Kelly. It basically amounted to mumbling. Well done.
For the rest of the episode Girl Model couldn't stop talking about how skinny she was and how awful it was that Kelly had pointed out how skinny she was. She moaned about it at Whitney's SkyDome apartment. She moaned about it at her agency party to her boyfriend Male Model. And then... gasp! Kelly showed up. "What is she doing here? This is MY agency," Girl Model moaned. Well, Kelly is a big deal in the fashion industry and you are not, dear Girl Model. That is what Kelly Cutrone is doing there. She tried to make amends with the skinny little thing, but she wasn't having any of it. "Let me talk to her," said Male Model, apparently confusing Cutrone with a dumb drunk boy at a bar who he can call "son" and "bro" and finger jab into submission. Luckily for MM and sadly for us, that didn't happen.
Instead there were fake smiles and Kelly drawled "I'll put you in some showwwsss..." and then she made a crack about models not eating anything. Eventually Girl Model overcame and, in a scene touchingly set at a place where people buy food to put inside their mouths and eventually tummies, moved past grief. Beautiful.
Also spinning around like a broken merry-go-round was Erin. She washed off the horrid lipstick just in time to get drunk and sleep with her ex-boyfriend, Michael Phelps. Michael Phelps was a jerk and the next morning was just like "yeah, so call me next time you're out. I like to party. Um... Bye!" and Erin smiled dopeishly to herself as if to say "that was nice." Except it wasn't nice. It was awkward and sad and plain. Ah well. Also Erin started a fake job at the modeling agency. She was a perfect candidate for the position because she'd read the company's website and she really dug their revolutionary decision to mix fashion AND modeling. What a wacky idea! Also, there was music involved! Can you believe it? Congratulations for Erin. A year and a half of "soul searching" has bloomed into clarity.
Over in Bitchington Corners, where we end most recaps, Olivia glimmer-glowered at Whitney as she recited the epic poem of the disappearing Girl Model. Olivia humphed and said, arriving at a searing never before realized by anyone ever point, "that's just a part of the industry." Then she added, because she's a nightmare, "I mean, heh heh, we're not going to send Shamu down the runway." That's true. Because the real Shamu died, years ago. But anyway. We're going to get into looksism right now Olivia? Fine. At the end of the episode, two of your heads fell into my living room and I won Tetris. Good work.
Oh but maybe Olivia isn't such a square-headed bitch after all. Evidently she refuses to get into a physical fight with Whitney, which the producers are clamoring for. Now I am clamoring for it too. Come on. It would be TV history. You've already thrown all credibility out the window, Liv. Go for the gusto.
Anyway. That's it. I stopped being interested about halfway through this. If you made it to the end, congratulations. Go eat something.