While we were talking about that, Betty made the intriguing choice of creating a fashion magazine. Even the ever-supportive, pointless Ignacio is like, "Girl, for real?" Yes, for real. Obviously. Betty's like, "It expresses me and who I am because this is my life," and Hilda's like "Once you get into the program you can make something that isn't fashion." Justin wigs out about how his boyfriend hasn't ever seen the movie of Little Shop Of Horrors and they have to watch it before seeing their school's production. I sympathize with that. Ignacio's like, "Awesome, let's all get going," and Hilda's like, "I loooove Justin's boyfriend, plus he has a guy around and that's probably a good idea because of how he is." Ignacio, in his flowered apron, takes a strong stand for his masculinity, and they humor him.
Wili's wearing a hellacious outfit that looks like a Ford F-450 in the shape of a dress, I can't even talk about it, and makes Connor dump his visit to Molly's classroom so they can go to Florida and she can flash her boob. But who will replace him at Molly's classroom? Ah, I see you've watched TV before. I knew you were smart. And where's Daniel now? Walking into the closet as Christina desperately tries to help Betty choose non-hideous clothes for her magazine cover. She is if course brutally rebuffed, the word "bolero" is mentioned, tragically, and Christina points out that the Letter from the Editor Betty's slaving over should be the easiest part, considering Daniel does it every month.
Dude, I love those. I love men's magazines letters from the editor sometimes more than the magazine. They're like the opposite of the unholy hellride that is the back page of Entertainment Weekly where Stephen King or fuckin' Diablo Cody is all, "I have a way of speaking and some opinions from when I was a teenager that are totally irrelevant! I bought a Zune that runs on wooden nickels! I'm going to see NKOTB in concert, honest to blog!" But in men's magazines it's all, "I got my French cuffs wet and you know how silk is, so then I killed myself in front of the Kirche am Steinhof in Vienna by drinking that coffee they make from cat shit with some pills I got in Mexico and I saw Gwyneth Paltrow at some political function and somebody got rowdy at Nobu and I talk about sex all the time but you and I both know I'm too busy for that right now mister and here's my BMI this month." They always make you feel like you really wish you were friends with them, but that if you were friends with them you would desperately wish not to be friends with them. Like Tom Ford.