So the episode begins with the camera stalking Carrie outside her window as she's typing on her laptop, and we see that her hair has thankfully grown longer and blonder since the pilot, where SJP pulled a "Separated at Birth?" with Fran Lebowitz. Carrie is VOing an anecdote about Miranda recently being invited to a dinner party with a sports agent in whom she was romantically interested.
Cut to the dinner party, where Miranda's new beau is asking the guests to name the "movie star, alive or dead, [they] would most like to fuck." The short, obnoxious, so-not-all-that sports agent begins with his selection of Veronica Lake. The guy to him chooses Sophia Loren. A woman chooses Montgomery Clift. Miranda informs her that Monty was gay. The woman looks crestfallen as Miranda cackles. The host chooses Marilyn Monroe. His wife chooses Bing Crosby. Miranda smirks and chooses "Sean Connery: yesterday, today and tomorrow." Ew. I didn't need to know that Miranda wants to be sheduced by a Shcottish shenior shitizen. Carrie VOs that Miranda felt like she "was hitting it out of the ballpark" with her date and his friends. Then Miranda has joined the hostess and the Monty Clift fan in the kitchen, where she's interrogated about how she met Sports Agent Guy. The women say they "adore" him. Monty Clift Fan Woman mutters something about an "ultimatum" he seems to be taking "seriously." Miranda asks them what's the sitch. They inform her that Sports Agent Guy usually only dates models. Then we see a couple of flashback dinner parties where supermodel types are sitting in Miranda's place at the table and are given the "sex with a movie star" query. The guests glare at one model when she shrugs and replies, "Charlie Sheen." Then another model gets up from the table to vomit up her dinner in lieu of answering. We cut to the hostess and her friend telling Sports Agent Guy to bring a brainier date the time. We cut back to the present, where the women are crowing about how wonderful it is that Miranda is "so not a model." She gapes in astonishment at this bit of news and furiously takes a bite of cheesecake. I can't believe they told Miranda about the ultimatum -- how rude! I bet Monty Clift Fan Woman was seeking payback for Miranda ruining her lifelong fantasy. Which I happen to share.
Cut to outside Miranda's apartment. Carrie VOs that Miranda "confronted" her date. Sports Agent Guy confesses to being "obsessed with models." Miranda wails on him for selecting her as his "intellectual beard for the evening." Heh. Miranda bolts from the creep.
Cut to some diner. Miranda has finished telling Carrie the story, and she complains, "If men like [Sports Agent Guy] are dating models, what chance do ordinary women have?" Then we see Carrie typing on her laptop some more as she VOs her definition of "modelizers." They're "obsessed not with women, but with models." And since models aren't confined to billboards and print ads in NYC and practically "run wild in the streets," the modelizers can "pet the creatures in their natural habitat." We see models roaming in packs on the sidewalk and getting made up for photo shoots during the VO. Generally, Carrie seems to be harshing on the modelizers because they're reducing women to sexual objects, but her specific beef with the guys seems to be that they're not sexually objectifying women like her and Miranda. You've come a short way, baby.
Then we're at Carrie's Bachelorette Pad, where she's invited the Fab Foursome over for a casual Chinese take-out dinner and some male-bashing. Samantha tells the gals that she's beautiful enough to be a model, but since she "works for a living," she's "like a model who's taking the high road." Uh, so models don't "work" or consider their work a career? I'm confused about Samantha's differentiation between a runway and the high road here. Miranda: "The advantages given to models and to beautiful women in general are so unfair it makes me want to puke." Samantha tells Miranda not to bitch, because she's "cute." Miranda reminds her that "cute doesn't cut it in this town." She wonders when "all the men got together to decide they would only get it up for giraffes with big breasts." She believes the gals "live in a culture that promotes impossible standards of beauty." Charlotte says one of the few lines she gets this episode: "It doesn't matter how good I feel about myself, when I see Christy Turlington, I just want to give up." The costumers have put Kristin Davis in black horn rim glasses in this scene, in an effort to make us believe that this astonishingly beautiful woman would actually feel threatened by Christy. Miranda expresses her desire to hold Christy down and "force-feed her lard." Carrie tells Miranda and Charlotte to hush; they're both "beautiful." Charlotte informs the gals that she "hates [her] thighs." (A hatred she continued through the second and third seasons, until she confronted her fear in the steam-room episode.) Miranda will take Charlotte's thighs and raise her a chin. Carrie will take Miranda's chin, and raise her a nose. The gals then look at Samantha, who hasn't met the "most hated body part" ante. Samantha defends her "love of the way [she] looks." Carrie quips that she "paid enough for it." Samantha bristles at the insinuation that she's had plastic surgery. Carrie holds up a copy of Glamour and ponders why "four gorgeous flesh-and-blood women" would find the cover model intimidating. Charlotte declares the hatred of her thighs again. Thank you, Tina Yothers. Then the Foursome digs into the Chinese food and a serious critique of the airbrushing on the Glamour cover model photo, although if one were seeking a true example of wanton airbrush abuse, one need not look further than the pics of SJP all over the Sex in the City: The First Season video box set. From this confab, Carrie VOs her need to explore further the question, "Exactly how powerful was beauty?"
Then we see two models in black slip-dresses at a restaurant table who are telling the camera that modelizers are only seeking to "get laid" and "fall instantly in love" with them just because of they way they look. The women, who need to get back to the set of a Robert Palmer video already, believe that these men are "pathetic."
We see Sports Agent Guy out on the street hailing a cab. He tells the camera, "Why fuck the girl in the skirt, when you can fuck the girl in the ad for the skirt?" Gee, honey, why don't you eliminate the middleman, er, model and just fuck the skirt? Or just masturbate? Or just SHUT THE HELL UP YOU LITTLE WEASEL?
We cut back to the model in the restaurant, who's telling the camera that these "pathetic" men can be used "to get whatever you want."
Cut to a woman labeled "Xandrella, Super Model," who's getting made up for a photo shoot and is clad in an ugly brown Wilma (tm Wing Chun) gown. Xandrella has worked modelizers for "trips to Aspen, weekends in Paris, [and] Christmas in St. Barts."
Cut to a guy labeled "Brad Fox, Catalogue Model," who's sporting a blue tank top and is sitting at a Nautilus pec machine and bragging about receiving "a motorcycle [and] a juicer." Hee! Male models' comparative efforts to whore themselves aren't worth shit, I guess.
Then Sports Agent Guy tells the camera that models "have brains, they just don't need to use them."
Cut to one of the models in the restaurant, who tells the cameraman that she's "literary" because "sometimes [she'll] read a whole magazine from cover to cover."
Brad Fox works his pecs some more and tells the camera that he's also received "some scuba gear [and a] Herb Ritts photo." Hmm. Methinks Brad isn't squired around by women modelizers.
Xandrella brags to the camera about getting some expensive jewelry and "a breast job." And I guess the bigger boobs led to even more expensive jewelry, and the vicious cycle continued until Xandrella's boobs got so huge the only modeling paychecks she could receive were signed by Larry Flynt.
Sport Agent Guy whines into the camera that "my friends think I'm shallow. Sometimes I think they're right. Other times I think, hey, I'm fucking a model!" He smirks. Sports Agent Guy is an insult to thinking persons everywhere.
Then we cut to Carrie and this guy at his loft. He's pouring paint all over a huge canvas, and we realize that he must be another modelizer because he's explaining, "Models are a lot looser than you think. It's way easier to screw a model than a regular girl because that's what they do all the time. It's what regular people do when they're on vacation." Carrie VOs that this guy is a friend of hers. I don't think I'd like to meet a woman who'd just stand there and let her so-called friends talk about other women like that, even if he was referring to those "whorish model types." But that's just me. Carrie seems to be doing research. The guy, who's named Barclay, continues to prattle on that the best way to approach models is to treat them like "dogs" and "show no fear"; the modelizer must have the confidence to approach the most beautiful "thing" in the room. Barclay even provides some visuals for Carrie in the form of videotapes of his sexual conquests with a variety of well-known models. Carrie sits to the guy while watching him screw these women on a big wall of televisions in front of them. Barclay calls these tapes his "real art," but in my assessment, it's Barclay who's the real piece of work. Carrie grins at Barclay's side while VOing that she "didn't know what to say; there really wasn't anything to say," except to ask him for a light for her cigarette. Oh, I think I could have come up with a few trenchant things to say. But then again, I'm not a super-professional, hyper-objective journalist like Carrie Bradshaw. Whatever.
Cut to Carrie and Skipper walking on the sidewalk. Carrie's eating a hot dog and sporting a really ugly fun fur. Skipper is explaining that he really likes Miranda; he "made out" with her and it was "totally hot." My god! Do these people have no concept of TMI? Is this a New York thing? Skipper continues to whine about Miranda "totally not" returning his phone calls. Is he not cute enough for her? Carrie tells Skipper that he's "adorable." Where is her objectivity when it's really needed? So Skipper then takes out a cell phone and calls Miranda so Carrie can ask her why she's ignoring the guy. At this point, do I really need to remind anyone who forgot that Skipper is the big, geeky, clueless loser from the pilot episode? Carrie goes along with this for some reason, but gets Miranda's machine. Skipper grabs the phone and whines, "Hey, it's Skipper. I'm in the street with Carrie. I just told her about how you won't call me, so now you have to call me back. YOU BETTER CALL ME BACK! No, I'm just kidding, I'm joking. Please call me back. Did I mention this was Skipper?" As if Miranda would listen to that message and forget. I think we know now why Miranda blew him off. Carrie VOs, "I think there is a curse put on the heads of anyone who tries to fix up their friends." Word. And that curse's name is Skipper.
Cut to backstage at a fashion show. Carrie and Stanford are walking around. Carrie's in a black tube dress, and Stanford's in a taupe suit, pink shirt, and tie. He introduces Carrie to his most important client, an underwear model who's "so beautiful, sometimes [he] has to look away" and seems to "travel with his own personal lighting director." Primed by this build-up, we see this guy in black boxer briefs who's really not all that stunning for a guy who's allegedly "the world's biggest" underwear mannequin. The guy greets Stanford as "Stanny" and is introduced to Carrie as Derek. Stanford makes an embarrassing show out of himself by lecherously touching Derek as he chats with Carrie and telling some lame anecdote about Derek's fourteen-foot bulge on a Times Square billboard, climaxing with Stanford groping Derek's chest as he assures the guy that he will make him "a star." Carrie pulls Stanford away before he is stripped of his last remnant of self-respect. As they walk away, Stanford tells Carrie that he wishes that Derek will "someday turn around and say, 'I love you.'" Carrie asks Stanford if Derek's gay. Stanford bitches, "He denies it. But he's too gorgeous to be straight." Uch, Stanford. Don't go after straight men, even the good-looking ones! They suck in bed, believe me!
Then we're at the runway of the fashion show, where Samantha has somehow managed to grab a seat in the front row. Yeah, right. I'm saying this because Samantha doesn't even work in fashion per se; Carrie VOs that Samantha just attended shows because "proximity to beauty made her feel even more attractive." Stanford and Carrie air-kiss her hello and take the seats to her. Then we see a really bad blend of actual fashion-show footage intercut with Carrie and Samantha allegedly watching the activity. Then Barclay shows up in the seat behind them and asks Carrie if she's going to the after party. Carrie doesn't know. Samantha cruises Barclay. Barclay gets a tiny shard of lead in his wee pencil. Samantha asks Carrie pointedly, "Martini straight up or with a twist?" Carrie informs her, "Straight up," which is pretty funny. Carrie warns her, however, that Barclay is a total modelizer. Samantha, of course, thinks she can make Barclay's cut. Then Derek walks out on the runway in his underwear and Carrie and Samantha titter. Don't ask me why they do this, and don't ask me why Derek is even on the runway since the women models are all wearing suits, and don't ask me why we have to see a slo-mo butt shot of Derek walking away on his extremely hairy stick legs. Ask Darren Star.
Cut to a downtown party for the designer and the models. Carrie is noshing on half an hors d'oeuvre tray of "sweet potato puffs with smoked salmon and sour cream" -- yum -- when Mr. Big walks right up to her the minute her mouth is at maximum capacity. Carrie VOs a reminder that Mr. Big was a "major tycoon, major dreamboat and majorly out of [her] league." Carrie mumbles hi. Mr. Big tells Carrie that he's been reading her column since he met her, and smarms his assessment that it's "cute." Instead of getting her bitch on, Carrie just giggles like a five-year-old and asks him if he likes "see food." No, she just swallows and tells him about her upcoming column on modelizers. Does Big have any thoughts? Big smarms, "Only that they're very lucky." Big wonders what Carrie's discovered. She tells him that some modelizers view their activities as "a competitive sport" while others are just seeking "validation." Big proposes the theory that some men just admire "extremely beautiful women." He asks Carrie if she has "a problem with that." She of course tells him that she doesn't, because god forbid she'd show Big that she was contradictory or even -- gasp -- judgmental. It might scare him away! But then a tiny spore of a spine appears, and she grumbles almost inaudibly, "I just think it might be kind of monotonous." Mr. Big changes the subject and asks Carrie where she does her writing. Carrie tells him about a coffee shop she frequents on "73rd and Madison." Then Mr. Big's date, a model from the show, appears. Big introduces her to Carrie. Carrie's self-esteem plummets and she VOs that she felt like she was "wearing patchouli in a room full of Chanel." She says bye to Big and his date and walks away while VOing, "I thought that I had come to terms with my looks when I turned thirty and realized that I no longer had the energy to be completely superficial." Funny, I always thought it was the acquisition of depth and substance that required great energy, but whatever. As usual, Carrie is both in denial and talking straight out of her ass.
Then Samantha runs up to Carrie and gleefully tells her that Barclay wants to jump her bones. Does Barclay actually think she's good-looking enough to be ranked among his model conquests? Carrie warns her not to "go there" because the guy secretly tapes his one-night stands. Samantha is immediately intrigued and starts to primp in the mirror for, as Carrie VOs, "her close-up." Carrie decides to "call it a night." She walks outside and hails a cab, "never feeling more invisible in [her] entire life." Cue Derek to pop up beside her. Carrie asks what became of Stanford. Derek informs her that Stanford was getting "a neck massage from a Versace model." Go, Stanford! Derek asks Carrie where she's going. She says she's heading home. He asks to join her. He gets in the cab before she can respond. She looks at the camera and jokes, "The things you have to do in the name of research." Um, shouldn't that be "the people you have to do," Carrie?
Carrie is pouring Derek some wine and wondering why he isn't with any of the girls from the show. Derek says that he doesn't date models because he believes "they're stupid." Carrie does some wishful thinking in VO about models perhaps repelling other models, causing models to be only attracted to normal humans. They sip wine. Although this is Carrie's apartment, she's still wearing her evening bag on her shoulder. Derek lies on her bed, and Carrie joins him there while finally taking off her purse as he blathers about having so many "intense thoughts that [he's] unable to get them down on paper." Carrie nudges closer to him while agreeing, "That's the big trick." It's obvious that Carrie wants to be Derek's "big trick." Carrie lights a cigarette while Derek explains that he's "totally neurotic" and "totally self-conscious." Carrie doesn't realize that Derek's also "totally" ineloquent and vapid, or pretends not to notice, because she shares the cigarette with him and some major flirtation and inane chatter. Derek puts his head on her pillow and asks her if it's okay for him to just lie there. Carrie is content to let him do so while she drools on the pillow to him. Derek explains that it sometimes "gets lonely in the city." Carrie is surprised that anyone "so beautiful could ever get lonely."
Cut to "somewhere below 14th Street," where Carrie VOs that other "lonely people" were doing "the late-night thing." We see Miranda, alone, buying two cans of cat food at a Korean market. This is too sad-making for even me to snark on. Skipper walks up to the register and accosts her. She says hey. Skipper is all, "So why haven't you been returning any of my calls?" Miranda tersely explains that she was "busy." Skipper whines that they had a "connection." Miranda asks for her change from the cashier while giving him a well-deserved brush-off. Skipper continues to put her on the spot by whining, "Do you get that way with every guy you're with?" Miranda suggests that Skipper go out with a girl "[his] own age." Ha! As if anyone on the playground would look twice at Skipper! He tells Miranda that he's not interested in anyone else and he believes Miranda is "luminous." Miranda, who at this vulnerable moment is both soft on any type of compliment and extremely hard up, checks out her "luminous" visage in Skipper's glasses and propositions him with, "All right, let's get out of here." Skipper, obviously swept off his feet with such a heartfelt declaration of amour, gapes and accepts, but he wants to buy his box of Cap'N Crunch first. Miranda goes all Scary Mommy and informs him, "There's cereal at my place." Skipper fears another crack of the whip, so he abandons his kiddie cereal to go tryst with Miranda while the store clerk sports a whatever face.
Cut to Samantha and Barclay doing the nasty at his loft. Carrie VOs that she had found the "ultimate validation." Samantha interrupts Barclay in mid-thrust to inquire, "Where is it?" Barclay looks down at the point of insertion, perplexed. Samantha explains that she's talking about "the camera." Barclay realizes that Samantha has been filled in (no pun intended) about his little filmmaking project. Barclay tells Samantha not to worry, because he only films models. Samantha's face falls and she informs him that she "wouldn't mind" being an exception. Barclay smiles and turns the camera on. Then we see Samantha staring at the image of herself having sex with Barclay on the big wall of televisions. Carrie VOs that Samantha wanted "every consideration given every other model in town." Yeah, because I guess in Samantha's world the act of having to beg a creepy, womanizing voyeur to become his amateur porn star is known as "consideration." Whatever.
The morning, Carrie's phone rings and wakes her up. She's still wearing her evening dress and make-up. It's Stanford on the phone, asking what happened to Derek after the party. Carrie tells Stanford he "won't believe it," wakes Derek and puts him on the phone. Derek is still fully dressed also. Stanford starts to freak and asks to speak to Carrie again. Stanford wails to Carrie, "HOW COULD YOU?" Carrie explains that she and Derek "just talked." Instead of ripping his allegedly good friend Carrie a new one for even attempting to seduce the guy upon whom he has an enormous crush, Stanford just sighs in relief and exclaims, "I knew he was gay!" Carrie grins and hangs up.
Cut to Sports Agent Guy crawling out of a brownstone entrance. His thinning hair is disheveled, and he's sporting big brown non-Bloomingdale's bags under his eyes. He bitches to the cameraman about how the models are "fucking up [his] life" by making him neglect his job and his sleep. He whines, "Look at me! I'm an old man at thirty-four!" Don't ask me why he doesn't ask the models for beauty tips during their post-coital discussions, or how obvious it is that we're supposed to be cheering his comeuppance. But I am anyway.
Cut to Carrie in the diner, biting her lip while typing on her laptop. She VOs her epiphany that "being beautiful is like having a rent-controlled apartment overlooking the park. Completely unfair and usually bestowed upon those who deserve it the least." Then Mr. Big appears, joins her in the booth, and apologizes for interrupting her work. She beams at him. He explains that he "can't stay" because he's "late for a meeting," but he has a contribution for her modelizer column. Carrie listens. Mr. Big smarms: "First of all, there are so many goddamn gorgeous women out there." Carrie looks at him stone-faced and deadpans, "What an amazing observation." Go Carrie! Mr. Big continues, "But the thing is this: After awhile, you just want to be with the one who makes you laugh, you know what I mean?" Carrie's spine retracts while she beams and nods. Mr. Big says, "See ya," ends this installment of Carrie's continuing mind fuck, and books out of there. Carrie watches him leave while sporting a euphoric grin and VOs, "I take that back. Beauty is fleeting, but a rent-controlled apartment is forever." She abandons work on her column to pull up a new document on which she types, "Mrs. Carrie Bradshaw-Big" over and over and over.