High Femme recently hosted a reading. A few of our readers wrote pieces specifically for the event, which we couldn’t resist posting here. Thank you so much to Brooke Metayer for this piece!
Cycle 37, episode 8. Only six girls remain in the running to become America’s Next Top Model, all with Peter Pan pixie cuts and bleached eyebrows, thanks to their model makeovers back in Episode 3.
A Chainsmokers song plays over an overexposed montage of a neoclassical mansion next to a golf course. Due to budget cuts, this season takes place in Jacksonville, Florida.
A fight is ensuing in the kitchen of the model house. The premise: Who stole Contestant #2’s last strawberry kiwi Celsius drink? Blame has fallen on Contestant #5.
Producers have been mining for a touching story from Contestant #5 for weeks. Hoping, praying for a dead relative, drug addiction—they’d even settle for a dead pet at this point, as long as she accidentally killed it herself. But all they could get was a confession that in 6th grade, she made a fake email account posing as Nick Jonas and used it to find out what the other people in her class thought about her.
Fuck it, they’ll make something up.
“Breathing all this fresh air is hard for me because my step sis–I mean step mother–never let me leave the attic–I mean basement…” Contestant #5 forces out. She has had no more than 15 seconds of screen time up until this point. She’s probably going home this week.
Suddenly, sirens echo through the long hallways lined with a series of Tyra Banks’ self-portraits she painted when she was nine.
This week’s Tyra Mail has arrived.
The girls gather in the foyer and read the message on the flat screen TV in unison:
“Time to find out who is first-degree fierce…”
They trail off. A hissing sound is coming from the vents. Before they can finish reading, the girls lose consciousness, collapsing onto the shiny marble floors.
When they finally awake, they are on a deserted island, blood on their hands, surrounded by nothing but the lifeless body of Tyra Banks.
After a few minutes of planning their lives as fugitives, she springs to life.
“Lesson learned. In this industry, you can’t trust anyone … Not even yourself,” Tyra pronounces. “Thanks to our sponsors, for this week’s photoshoot challenge, you will be posing with the all-new 2025 Nissan Altima. But you’ll be doing it…nude.”
Due to more budget cuts, they now have to complete a high-fashion photoshoot while simultaneously filming the infamous CoverGirl commercial.
Contestant #2 climbs on top of a steel gray Nissan. “All new CoverGirl outlast lash blast double last mascara is easy breezy peasy beautiful indisputable flawless…”
A quiet rumble at first. Then it grows into a treacherous quake. Cameras, lighting equipment and Nissans go flying in every direction.
She has summoned the ancient Roman God of Increasing Shareholder Value.
“YOU HAVE APPEASED THE ANCIENT ROMAN GOD OF INCREASING SHAREHOLDER VALUE.
YOU HAVE FINALLY TAPPED INTO THE TARGET DEMOGRAPHIC OF 11 TO 37-YEAR-OLD SINGLE WOMEN WHO LIVE IN THE AMERICAN MIDWEST WITH AN AVERAGE HOUSEHOLD INCOME OF $60,000 A YEAR.
BECAUSE OF YOUR UNATTAINABLE YET SOMEHOW STILL ATTAINABLE BEAUTY AND GIRL-NEXT-DOOR CHARM, THEY WILL CONTINUE BUYING COVERGIRL LASH BLAST MASCARA FOR ALL OF ETERNITY.
AND THEY WILL CONTINUE LOOKING IN THE MIRROR AND CRITICIZING FEATURES THEY SHARE WITH THEIR DAUGHTER IN FRONT OF THEIR DAUGHTER, ENSURING THAT SHE BUYS COVERGIRL LASH BLAST MASCARA FOR ALL OF ETERNITY TOO.
YOU HAVE PERFECTLY BALANCED HIGH FASHION WITH COMMERCIAL LOOKS. YOU ARE THE CHOSEN ONE.”
A thunderous sound followed by a blinding light, and Contestant #2 disappears.
CUT TO: Judging panel.
The girls file into a glossy white sound stage. Contestant #1 and Contestant #5 step forward, a poreless Tyra Banks stands before them. Only one photo in her hand. The photo of the girl who is still in the running to become America’s Next Top Model.
An image of Contestant #1 straddling a sedan is revealed.
There’s no time to waste. I pull out my phone. “Where is [insert Contestant #5 name] ANTM now?” I type.
