With Elide gone, there's one shoe left to drop. One lazy, clueless, excuse-making shoe. Vorhees can feel the walls closing in on her, though it's unclear whether she's feeling the pressure of impending termination or having to actually work soon. V calls her parents and bitches to them about how hard this all is (again, while she could actually be working). She interviews that no human could keep up with her workload. All this is to explain how Vorhees ends up calling Emily and Robyn into a meeting and firing herself. Ironically, it was the one task she accomplished in her whole time at People's Rev. "Her best was obviously not good enough," interviews Kelly. "We'll just pretend we only had one Stefanie the whole time," says Andrew to Skinner. So, yeah, the office is real broken up over this whole thing.
Ahh, but the shadow of Vorhees is not so easy to shake. As Kelly, Robyn and Emily jet off to London for Fashion Week with Crumpets, Skinner, the Andrews and someone named "Michelle" are feeling the full weight of the People's Rev workload on their shoulders. "Mom and Dad are gone," smirks Pale Andrew, but they're all soon besieged with work. Orange Andrew is the first to crack, ending up in tears over trying to get clients into some show or another. It doesn't matter what the task was, the issue at hand is that Andrew's bronzer is running all down his face. Skinner can't help but laugh at this, because she is merely human. Orange Andrew does not admonish her with a "But I dyed your roots for you!" but he really could've. Skinner's not being mean, though, and this stress is actually bringing the team closer together.
Meanwhile, in London, Kelly introduces Robyn and Emily to her ex -- and Ava's father -- Ilario. He's incredibly handsome, but the sleaze potential is quite high. Kelly talks about their "whirlwind romance" that preceded Ava's conception, and says it ended when "I found out I was with a bossy Italian, and he found out he was with a ball-busting American." Take a lesson, Jersey Shore kids! So Kelly's helping prepare for a Henry Holland show at some rented-out cathedral. Henry Holland is basically a walking, talking Look at This Fucking Hipster post: spiked hair, giant old-man glasses, striped tiny t-shirt, pink leggings, constantly biting his finger. It's exhausting just looking at him. Obviously, Kelly adores him.
At the Henry Holland show, Kelly busies herself by abruptly ejecting Brit seat-crashers from chairs that rightfully belong to American press. In truth, I think London Fashion Week is more of a vacation for Kelly and Co., and this is just Kelly finding a job for herself to do because I'm not sure she could actually take a vacation if she tried. Either way, the Holland show, with its see-through lace tops keeping the pixelators at Bravo busy, is a rousing success.