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America's Next Top Model recap: Moving Violations

Tyra goes behind the camera for a shoot that plays like a joke, but it’s all serious business when the field gets narrowed to the final two

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Tyra Banks Ann
Ivano Grasso/The CW

America's Next Top Model

TV Show
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The final four, you guys! What an exciting-ish episode! I’m almost a little sad that this cycle is coming to a close. Is that possible? Or is that just the seasonal affective disorder kicking in? It’s probably the latter. I mean, it gets pitch black at like, 4 p.m. Who wouldn’t be bummed out?

Anyway, this isn’t America’s Next Top Unrelated Thought From Margaret, although good god I wish it were. (Next week: When did everyone get so into craft beer?!) It is instead the saga of our final four modeltestants. We opened on them luxuriating in the back of a minibus, each sort of bemoaning how tough the competition was getting. Chelsey did some steeling shizz talking, and Ann admitted that she needed to step up her game. Chelsey also bragged about how she had to save up money to buy her own issues of Vogue back in Idaho.

Back at the house, Kayla seemed a little too into her own winning photo, going so far as to sit across from it just to gaze at it. Winning is fun and all, but c’mon, dude. Also, her hair color is definitely different. I don’t know if this is the fire-engine just wearing out or what, but it looks about seven light years better.

Ann confessionalized that she’d always been shy — and not in the Carol Burnett/Once Upon a Mattress sense. (Teaser for yet another episode of America’s Next Top Unrelated Thought From Margaret: Who else loves musicals?! Meeeee!) We got another shot of Ann eating that sad bacon sandwich, so…drink, I guess! How many times are they going to show that photo?

Later, the modeltestants met up with Ms. Jay and his parasitic twin! Wait, no, that was just a hair pouf. WHAT IS GOING ON WITH THAT HAIR POUF? Why the blazer again? And the kabuki eyebrows? I am unwilling to accept the answer that we’ll just never know. The hair pouf and the runway coach attached to it were joined by an acting coach. I wish Ms. Jay had also brought a t-shirt coach, because that was one sad, droopy v-neck he had going on, and it could seriously use a half-time pep talk. You can do it, v-neck! Chase that sternum! No one saw you all season, and we all thought Ms. Jay was just wearing a blazer with nothing underneath! Now go out there and get ’em.

Instead, the woman tried to teach the models how to emote. Good luck, lady!

Then it was off what appeared to be the temporary offices of Vogue Italia. Anyone want to take a swing at why everything was just in piles, or rolled up in the corner? Fake office? Or is that just how Franca Sozzani rolls? Somehow, I really really doubt that that’s her real office.

I also really, really doubt that anyone can explain Andre‘s outfit. He was wearing a military-issued fez, a sequin robe that appeared to be from the Dumbledore’s Night Out collection, a shirt with a rhinestone-bedazzled NAACP seal in the middle, some kind of accessory cane, and shoes with pilgrim buckles. Let’s just all take a moment to try to think about that.

NEXT: The wisdom of Coco Chanel, channeled through Andre Leon Talley and peyote buttons.