Next, the girls get their measurements taken, and have to pose for a photo. We meet Whitney, twenty-one, from West Palm Beach. She has a 40" bust, and tells us that in her mind, a plus-sized model can walk down the same runway as Naomi Campbell. That cell phone would just bounce right off. Diana, twenty-one, from Garfield, New Jersey, who is also a big girl, says that she doesn't feel at all threatened by the other plus-sized model. She thinks it's great. Well particularly, as has been noted, since Whitney is a dead ringer for Bobbi Kristina Brown. Diana is 39-31-45. And you know, hers are really the only measurements we get, which doesn't seem quite right. We see the boot camp photos, and Natasha tells us that she has potential because she has a different look -- she's pretty. Call her a bitch, but she kind of has a point.
There is more military tomfoolery, then in comes Tyra, followed by some guys. As Kathleen, twenty, from Brooklyn tells us, Tyra is stepping. I am too white to understand all of this. ["They're stomping the yard! Where are YOU from?" -- Wing Chun] Whitney mentions something about a fraternity to give us a little context. Tyra continues with the stupid military stuff, and tells the girls that some have potential, but that she sees some who might be going home. This is their week to prove to her that they can be America's Next Top Model. Tyra asks if they can handle the truth, à la Jack Nicholson in A Few Good Men, and then says that she loves the smell of hair and makeup in the morning. It smells like victory. What she likes even more in the morning is the smell of six pounds of bacon. That smells like breakfast. ["Such a missed opportunity for her to have said it smells like cupcakes." -- Wing Chun] Tyra tells them that she wants them to be all they can be, not bitch all they can bitch. That is a straight-up lie. She says that she wants them to be top guns, not top son of a guns, like Bad Bad Leroy Brown. Tyra talks some more, but I tune it out, and then she jiggles off and we quite blessedly head off to commercials. Trust me, my friends, it gets better.