Welcome to Agrabah!
Wait, this is Marrakech? Sorry, I was confused by all the desert shots and the sounds of generic, public-domain Arabic instrumentals playing in the background.
Welcome to Marrakech!
We’re on the road to Morocco, a land with lots of pop history: Humphrey Bogart waffled between political neutrality and Ingrid Bergman in Casablanca, Jimmy Stewart and Doris Day were mistakenly embroiled in a plot right here in Marrakech, William S. Burroughs experienced epiphanies in the Interzone (a.k.a. the dirty bathroom of a Tangier drug den), and, most significantly, Morocco is where a gaggle of loud, bedazzled women from New York made culturally tone-deaf jokes and obliviously blathered on about menopause and Jimmy Choo shoes for nearly three hours.
Can you guess which cultural milestone Cycle 16’s first abroad episode resembled the most? If you said Sex and the City 2, you are correct. If you said nothing, because you had successfully blocked that movie out of your memory using advanced mnemonic erasure techniques, you are a luckier person than I. Last night, the five remaining models posed on camels, indulged in some carefully orchestrated culture, and continued to whine and moan as if they weren’t on a free vacation.
We were only two minutes in before we heard our first joke about the yonic semblance of a certain ungulate’s cleft foot, if you know what I mean. (I’m not even sure if I do.) Once the airport shuttle dropped the models off, they headed straight to the square, absorbing culture through every pore of their bodies. Luckily for them, CoverGirl makes a special culture-removing face scrub that will clear that right up. They stopped at a man kneeling on a blanket, in the midst of entrancing a slew of cobras. The two Jays then revealed themselves like a pair of harem girls, replete with diaphanous shawls, kohl-rimmed eyes, and the faraway gaze of those who have done everything to everyone.
Miss Jay explained—in a voice learned from the Tyra Banks How to Do Borderline Offensive Accents series of instructional audiotapes, featuring lessons like “Mocking People to Their Face” and “Everything Just Ends Up Sounding Irish, Anyway”—that before their photo shoot, the girls would get to enjoy a traditional Moroccan lunch. And so, after a 12-second perusal of the souk, they were hurried off to what I can only assume was the Moroccan equivalent of Rock Sugar. The Top Model accountants said they could afford this with the money they’d saved by having the five models sneak onto the airplane in Tyra’s luggage.
NEXT: Silly clothes are a universal language.