Jenny's sitting at her sewing machine, still wearing last night's ghoulish makeup, when Agnes comes running in with apologies and dress in hand. Jenny is pitch-perfect throughout this episode, but her distracted professional annoyance here is fantastic: not mean/hateful, just brush-offy/please bug me later. I'm really liking what's happening to this character, and what Momsen's doing with her. It's brilliant. Agnes praises the dress to heaven and Jenny's like, "Fuckin' great" and throws it on a table without looking up. "Okay seriously, you work your ass off, and for what? So Eleanor can rip off your ideas?" Jenny snips and pulls at the threads, mercilessly: "No, Eleanor promised that I could be in the meetings with the buyers from Bendel's and Barneys today." Agnes points out they had the same deal regarding Bloomingdale's," and Jenny just keeps working like she barely has time to roll her eyes in acknowledgement of that truth. Agnes starts pulling at her, and Jenny shoves her away, but finally she's like, "Oh my God, what?"

Agnes drags her to a computer in another room of the atelier and says those immortal words all teenagers have said, when looking at pictures of themselves, at least a billion times: "I mean seriously, this can be an ad campaign." (The difference being, and it's remarkable, that there are professional children for whom this and things like it are true, and in even vaster numbers in the world of this show than in the real world. I think this will end in true destruction because you can't sell this story on a teen drama, and at some point Jenny will hurl herself into Rufus's arms in tears, like she always does, but at this point it could still go the other way, and I kind of wish it would.)

Jenny's taken by the photos and under Agnes's spell, admits that the trio of Max and Agnes and herself have accomplished something remarkable. "I mean, right? And look, you can do whatever you want to do, but I mean, what do you think people will say when they see that Jenny Humphrey's finally gone on her own?" Jenny says she doesn't know, but she knows: "'Jenny Humphrey's so young to have her own line'?" And Agnes points out the other side of the deal she's making now: "Or 'Too bad Jenny Humphrey's stuff looks exactly like Eleanor Waldorf's.'" They stare at each other and wonder if every fairytale and story and warning isn't just propaganda to keep our parents and their lack of talent on top and in control.