To start, J. has each of the girls walk as Tyra voices over that runway work is like "silent theater," which I guess is just like a silent movie except for the part where it never existed. Adrianne tells us that her runway was "soooooooo baaaaaaaaad," and J. confirms this by saying that too many of the women are walking "too tight in the booty," doing a virtual impersonation...of Adrianne. Up and down and up and down they go again. J. tells us that Nicole has "a quiet confidence," which is weird, because with each step she takes, the only sound I hear, over and over and over again, is "tramp tramp tramp tramp tramp." J. writes off Robin's natural-born abilities in telling us, "She'll be great...in her end of the business," which means, basically, that she'll get by if she lies about her age and never thinks but to swim in the fat end of the pool. Shannon has a "pretty face" but seems "commercial," in that way that sank Mercedes. Great. I guess that means Shannon has lupus. See how the whole of Season 2 still didn't teach me anything about the disease? Meh. Probably my fault. Giselle wears sneakers so white you'd think she barely had time to dirty them on her short walk to the short bus (it's mean, I know, but they're that white, people, so technically this is really just the shoes' fault) as she dances down the runway. J. does an impersonation of her and everyone laughs, especially when he ends the impersonation by getting totally booted, which she's fated to do and soon. Because sister? You don't have a prayer. Kesse gets a little stiff in her walk, but I mean it when I say that I really don't think Kesse is just another pretty face. She is, in fact, not a pretty face at all. Ebony is trying a leeeeeeeeetle too hard. Katie looks like she's going to stroll directly into her next client's darkened hotel room and not allow him to kiss her because it's just too intimate. Elyse, according to J., "has what it takes." Because there's a PhD in The Runway Arts up for grabs, and this walk is a pie chart in her larger doctoral thesis. She could be Dr. Model. Honestly, I'll bet she could. You can get a PhD in anything these days. Look at that movie Dr. T and the Women, and how well it worked out for Mr. T that he went back to school to get his advanced degree in Pitying The Fool. Anyway. Never tell anyone I wrote that.
"My motto is," J. continues, "walk like it's for sale and the rent is due tonight." When this show goes to Seasons 3, 4, and 11, J. is going to need himself another motto, because that one's been retired and printed on a jersey that hangs evermore in the rafters at the back of Top Model Stadium. How many times we gotta hear you say that, J.? What if I just started repeating myself in every recap instead of coming up with something new and fresh? Surely you'd desert me all at once, leaving me without a trace, packing your bags, y'all, and going to Milan. Oh. Sorry. Carry on, J. And carry on he does, coming out (well, that part is taken care of, but stick with me) in a wee black skirt and high heels. The girls laugh and cheer, with only Robin ducking out of the room to sketch a hastily written, grammatically hazy constitutional amendment banning J. Alexander from human existence on the back of a communion wafer.