At last! The Top Model finale is upon us! I’m sure you’re all very busy right now in preparation — reassembling your shrine to Tyra, practicing your runway strut, and sacrificing that goat — but when you get a moment, you could always take a break and check out our prognostications:
“In the editorial corner there’s the edgier McKey, whose quirky, toothy
smile might not sell Land’s End turtlenecks but is exactly what Tyra
means when she says “pretty-pretty” isn’t always “model-pretty.” Her
pictures have improved to consistent greatness, even with the hideous
makeover that looks like a drunk stylist ran amok with some shoe polish
and a Flowbee.”
If you get a hankering to read and/or comment on the whole kit and caboodle, you can find it here.
















@lemonadephoto If he'd lived I think they would have with Harris -- bear in mind he had the gentler books -H
NYFug.com: Tyra Is Our Own ‘National Treasure: Book of Secrets’
And now Top Model is over. Our Wednesday nights at 8 just got a little less booked (thank god: juggling Pushing Daisies, Top Model and Bones was starting to get to me. What kind of monster expects you to choose between Tyra Banks, David Boreanez, and baked goods?). Too bad this cycle didn’t go out with much of a bang. Well, unless you’re counting Tyra’s spectacular finale wardrobe. And we are:
I know what you’re wondering: But how did National Treasure: Book of Secrets play into this? I wish I could explain that myself. It just DOES. Read and comment here, my gentle readers.
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