Model Behavior

Hello I’m name is Amaretto Jenkins, and I am a recovering America’s Next Top Model-holic.

You wanna be on top? Oeeeee oeee ooooeeeee Oeeeee oeee ooooeeeee.

Sorry, sometimes I just bust out with the theme song while walking down the street. Now I say recovering because I’ve missed quite a few cycles, namely because Tyra’s modeling advice and Ms. Jay’s antics were going above and beyond ri-DAMN-diculous. But also it was getting to the point that I wondered if these doe eyed contestants had ever watched the show before. Like hello? We’re on cycle 80, there have been countless girls now who have come out of the ANTM machine and fallen into the frays of our collective memories. Aside from Eva, every other Top Model requires us to go over the river and through the woods before we can remember who they were. But really Top Model hopefuls, you know you are going to get a makeover, stop crying because they cut your hair off. You know that you are going to be asked to either pose with an animal, at an extremely high altitude or in your naked suit-so stop protesting! But I think the largest reason, aside from the formula, that I’ve turned my back on ANTM is because these girls believe that their purpose in life is to be a model. Say what now? People are starving in this world and God purposed you to wear clothes and strut?

Hmmmmm. Oeeeee oeee ooooeeeee Oeeeee oeee ooooeeeee.

I don’t have anything against models ya’ll. I’ll have you know that some of my family members think they are models. Somebody on the Jenkins family reunion committee thinks having a family slash afro-centric fashion show is the business. It’s just always a little troubling that some of the members (who I love dearly) think they are doing the darn thing when they are have on the latest in street fashion with the token Kente print scarf while hobbling down the cat walk with their canes. And you can’t laugh or boo, you can only encourage because its family. And with that encouragement the family keeps thinking the fashion show is a good idea…when it ain’t. And why do we do that to ourselves? When keeping it real is necessary? When honesty should be the best policy? Politeness comes, kicks down the door waving its .44 and we lie without saying a word.

For example…

This weekend I attended a wedding reception. It was after five, so you know there were certain attire expectations, you know black, sequins, satin or satin like materials. But, during the mother of the groom’s toast in walk two women of epic proportions, like they could have rolled in the crew that was trying to beat me down back in the day. And everyone noticed. And it wasn’t the fact that they were grossly late or that they were a little bit bigger than the average woman it was all of their fabulousness that caused the collective what in the world has the cat dragged in now? Sista and Girl had matching lime green and blue tee shirts and Capri pants…that might have been more appropriate for Six Flags or Kings Dominion. Sista had a long blonde curly pigtail hairstyle that allowed me to see the black hair she was born with, while Girl has long unruly curly weave. But what sealed the deal for me were their six inch fake eye lashes that rivaled those of camels and resembled the legs of a spider. And I started to chuckle, just like I do at the girls on Top Model as they try to take themselves seriously about modeling. But as fate would have it, Sista and Girl strutted over and sat down at my table. *sigh* Serves me right.

So much for whispering about them behind their backs or explaining to the children that they aren’t part of the circus. No I exhibited model behavior. I was as polite as polite could be and tried not to stare at their costumes. Afterall, my momma taught me better than that!

Oeeeee oeee ooooeeeee Oeeeee oeee ooooeeeee.

See You In Seven