Blair Waldorf, whom I keep meaning to tell you the captioning sometimes loveably portmanteaus into "BLORF," welcomes everybody to the Constance Billard/St. Jude's Ivy Week Mixer, just as Eric and Jenny are coming back from their dark confab of gothic suicidal darkness. This is the second of her long monologues, and -- except for the brilliant note coming up at the end -- is just as thinly produced. I think Leighton's deal is that she's really good with chemistry, like awesomely good, which means she needs the person right in front of her to vibe back and forth with, but when she has to project out onto nothingness, like here -- or when she was walking around the house delivering that soliloquy to Dorota -- she feels dwarfed (blorfed?) by the lack of response she's getting from the nobody she's talking to, so it falls flat and she hits these weird yipping overly aggressive notes and then tries to dial it back, and it makes you kind of seasick to listen to, because either she's the boss of everybody or she's trying to get people to pay attention to her kind of desperately. And I realize that's the point of Blair, but I don't really think this particular thing is a choice on Leighton's part. I mean, it doesn't actually matter in the narrative -- for the same reason that Mischa didn't actually have to be a good actress because Marissa was so fake and awesomely surfacey that it came out to a zero sum, Mischa : Marissa :: Marissa : Mischa -- but it does kind of make me feel anxiety on her behalf because she's normally such a standout.
Sorry, so Blorf is like, I'm the chair of the Community Outreach Committee, blah blah, we choose a local institution that does our community good, and this year it's the Ostroff Center. And that's fine, but you already know what's coming: "This semester, our choice is a very personal one, because the center has helped one of our own." Lily's like, "The fuck?" All the van der Woodsens stare at each other in mute blonde horror and disarray and begin to circle their tiny skinny blonde wagons in the corner of the yard. "It's because of their excellent program, which aids so many young addicts and alcoholics, that a student here with us today is clean and sober. At least for now. Can I please have Serena van der Woodsen join me onstage?" That last little twist of the knife is performed expertly; she practically sticks it in Fifth Position. "S and B's last stand, and only one gets out alive! Better run for cover." Gossip Girl's pretty much phoning it in this week, although I don't know how she could really raise the bar on herself after last week's rock-out session.
Lily shudders, like a full-body shudder, and begs the universe at large to tell her that this is not happening. Eric tells her it's not, and heads toward the podium, but Serena grabs him and shoves him back into their mom. "Stay right here, okay?" Lily continues to shake all over with the willies of fear and demands that Serena think about who's standing with them right now, which is everybody. Serena pushes off and floats across the crowd toward Blair. She's wearing a pretty Grecian-inspired dress that I'm told is from Vena Cava, but I can't find it in their spring collection, and a golden printed scarf in her hair, and she looks even more sleek than usual. Blair's wearing an old-lady suit with pearls in what seems to be the exact same color she was over last week, and a bright yellow Avonlea shirt, and as usual can make it work for no reason except that she's gorgeous. So when Serena gets up there, Blair's like, "Gotcha!" But whatever, Serena's got the stage now, so of course she's going to do some kind of Dan move where she...yep, here she goes.