The nuclear family didn't exist a hundred years ago. Neither did anorexia. Do the math, it's not that fucking complicated.
Chuck loves profanely the Carlos Miele dress Ivva has chosen for tonight, and for good reason: It's phenomenal. But anyway he has to go see his lawyer, so by all means buy them all because you clearly have no idea what a red-carpet fashion event requires, growing up in that podunk one-horse town they call Paris. Here's Hector Elizondo now to help you out, and a car waiting outside. At least in this scene Clémence Poésy looks at beautiful as we know her to be, which hasn't been the case heretofore.
Wearing prominently their huge key necklaces that signify their membership in a secret club, Blair and Juliet comes wafting down the stairs at selfsame Carlos Miele. Juliet says weird stuff about B living in the Hammy House, and B brings up the whole thing with Serena. Juliet points out that, for once and without any instrumental versions of Muse songs playing, B finally has something all her own. And she didn't even have to do evil to get it. "Listen, I know that you said that you had plans with Serena tonight, but maybe you can stop by the house for a drink beforehand? Inaugural martinis are a hundred-year-old tradition. And so are the eager-to-please college boys."
Back up and say that again, Sharp. Anyway, Juliet rides off on her broom or whatever and Ivva comes vrooming into the situation, smiling stupidly at Blair and saying something. Blair responds to her mumbles and instead of running the fuck away, Ivva keeps talking, something about Lily's party and a dress and I think coding in PERL, and finally B has had enough of her stupid goddamn French face. "Look. If you wanna hole up in Chuck's hotel suite and feed him croissants, that's his business. But introducing you to his family? My friends?" Ivva says some mealymouthed other-woman bullshit about not hurting Blair and she finally retaliates in kind:
"Oh, you're the one that's gonna end up being hurt, ma biche. And not by me. Chuck will soon realize that it doesn't matter if the dress is couture if the girl is off-the-rack. And then, as with all things that don't fit, you'll be sent back to where you came from... Oh, and by the way? If I were you I'd want to accessorize with some gloves. Not even a manicure can mask those peasant hands."
Just kidding, Ivva was totally nice and Blair totally went nuts on her. Which, sometimes that's fun. Sometimes it's called for. And maybe she does have peasant hands. But mostly we're getting eerily close to that point in the episode where Blair starts eating chunks out of faces.