Queens For A Day

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Hilda decides that Betty needs a makeover in order to fit in with the rest of the beeyotches at Mode. This is not entirely untrue: I like the kid, but her eyebrows are really out of control. Moreover, Betty's used her Queens connections to talk a big name photog (who hates Meade Publishing) into meeting with Daniel, and Daniel asks her to "dress up" a bit for their lunch. So Hilda takes Betty for a makeover, which doesn't really go that well, frankly -- a beehive is involved, as are Bedazzled acrylic nails -- but at least it takes care of the monobrow. Sadly, although the kids in Queens think she looks awesome, Betty gets a rather humiliating dressing-down from Wilhelmina for her new look, and gets all sobby in the bathroom and refuses to go along to lunch. Call me mean-spirited, but if every episode involves a tearful scene in which Betty decides that she has to quit, I will quit. Anyway, blah blah blah of course Betty ends up showing up at the lunch anyway, and yada yada yada looks aren't everything and she saves the day, thwarting Wilhelmina in the process. As for Daniel, he's having all kinds of issues living up to the Legacy of Poor Dead Brother Alex, AND he's starting to dig into the mystery of his father's relationship with Fey Sommers, although he hasn't uncovered anything juicy yet. He's also very cute. Just in case you were wondering. Want more? The full recap starts right below!

We open on Betty, trying desperately to get past a doorman into a club, where, as she tells him, they're having a party for her boss. As you can imagine, on this particular evening, she does not look like the kind of girl who successfully talks her way past the doorman, and she's not having much luck getting in. To put on my nitpicking hat for a moment -- and a mere three sentences in! -- I must say it's seriously unlikely that there isn't a guest list for this event -- one Betty would already have seen, dealt with, and put her own name on already, at the office. ["As Daniel's assistant, she probably would have had to be at the location overseeing things before the event even started." -- Wing Chun] At any rate, the doorman is unmoved. Betty frantically searches her purse for her "Xeroxd card" -- I don't have any idea what the hell that could be -- but has no luck. She's digging through her bag when Amanda sweeps up past the line and into the party. "She knows me! Amanda!" Betty cries. Amanda ignores her. The doorman looks down at her and says, "Sweetheart, why don't you come back on Monday night? That's when we let anybody in." I have to give him some credit: he really tells her this very nicely. The he lets in a load of swankily dressed folks, as Betty finally finds and shows him her "Xeroxed card." OH. It's her Xerox card! Like, her access card for the Mode copy machine. Oh, honey. That just proves you work at an office somewhere. Sometimes Betty makes me sad.

Cut to a nattily-dressed journalist outside the club, reporting from the scene, presumably for something like FashionTV. The reporter is played by Greg Proops, whom I know slightly and who, I must admit, is totally divine. He also has tremendously good taste in clothing in real life. So, yay Greg! Greg tells us that it's "nothing but trendy and Fendi here for Daniel Meade's cover party, as we celebrate his first issue of Mode on the stands." Poor Greg then recaps, for approximately the kazillionth time, the path Daniel took to the EIC's chair. Inside the bar, people swarm around Daniel and take his picture. While he poses, Evil Marc comes scampering up to Wilhelmina, handing her a drink, and filling her in on what happened before she arrived: "Heidi Klum's a no-show, Isaac's in the back getting sloppy [I do hope he means Mizrahi], and wait until you see Veronica Jansen's facelift! Lawsuit!" he sings. I adore him. Wilhelmina is disgusted by the sight of New York's reporters falling all over Daniel, sniffing, "As if he actually knew anything about fashion. He went to Vera Wang's spring line and gave her a high five." Considering that Vera Wang's father died the morning of her spring/summer runway show this year, that was, indeed, extremely inappropriate. Across the room, Daniel raises his glass to Wilhelmina, and she plasters a fake smile on her face and waves back. You know, I get that she's evil and all, but if I were in her position, I would probably hate Daniel too. And also want to sleep with him. Which would therefore make me hate him more. Damn. I've said too much already.

A shot of people dancing in the club fades to a shot of Walter and Justin playing Dance Dance Revolution in the Suarez living room. Betty gets home after a long evening of being turned away from clubs, and is not particularly pleased to see Walter in her house. He would like to know what, exactly, she was doing out at "some club until...9:45." ["That may have been the only thing in the episode that actually made me laugh." -- Wing Chun] Betty tells Walter that she was at a party, but snaps that she doesn't have to explain anything to him, seeing as they're not an item anymore. "And whose fault is that?" Walter asks. Betty looks mildly incredulous: "Um, you're the one who dumped ME for Gina," she reminds him. "For just two days!" he protests. "I mean, it takes longer than that to digest corn." Well, consider me sold! He should sell that to the nice people at Hallmark for their Valentine's Day line. Betty rolls her eyes: "As beautiful an apology as that is, Walter, I think we're over." Walter moans and groans about this a bit, finally pointing out that he bought Dance Dance Revolution for Justin at FULL PRICE. He couldn’t even use his discount! Betty wonders if Walter's not being able to use his employee discount is supposed to melt her heart, and firmly sends him home. Note to Walter: "I love you" usually goes over better than "But I BOUGHT YOU THIS." Best of all is "I love you, AND I bought you this." Walter leaves, grumpily. The sound on my cable feed here in Los Angeles is totally wobbly and distorted, which is making the Sad Music of a Failed Relationship sound like the soundtrack to Rosemary's Baby. I can't wait until we find out that Gina Gambaro worships Satan.

Over at the Modeparty, Daniel is hitting on an underwear model when Bradford comes over and asks him if he's talked to anyone "who actually matters." Dude, fancy underwear is important. Have you never had a third date? Daniel retorts that he's talked to four reporters already. "Looks like my first issue's a home run," he adds, slightly smugly. Bradford grudgingly admits that Daniel's pulled it off, but reminds him that "Mode sells Mode." Whatever that means. A round of photogs comes and takes a father-and-son snap, right before Wilhelmina comes over to kiss some Meade ass. "Your brother really would have been proud," she tells Daniel. "I'm not so sure about that," Daniel replies. "What did I do? Mode sells Mode, right Dad?" Oh, have a little more champagne and take home an underwear model, Daniel. You'll feel so much better. Wilhelmina jumps in and starts telling a story about the night Bradford threw a party on some yacht to celebrate Dead Brother Alex's new position as editor of Hudson magazine. Apparently, Alex showed up dressed to the nines...but with polka dot boxers where his pants should have been. The pictures got in almost every publication in the country, and circulation went up 38%. "That is an editor," Bradford says. Daniel dryly comments that he wishes someone had told him: "I would have gladly dropped my pants for you." He storms off. That's a weird thing to say to your dad. Also, I find it hard to believe that Daniel doesn't remember the time his brother ended up in every publication in the country in his underwear. Maybe he was in a coma at the time; this is a soap opera. Wilhelmina apologizes to Bradford for even bringing it up: "This is Daniel's party, but Alex is a tough act to follow."

At the Suarez homestead, Justin interrogates Betty about the club: "They say people wait in line for, like, three hours just to get inside." "Some people wait more," Betty sighs. Enter Hilda, just in time to hear Justin ask Betty if she brought him home a matchbook; she claims she forgot. He asks her about the bathrooms at the club; she claims she didn't have to pee. Hilda sends the kid off to get ready for bed, and he scampers off, but then turns back and tells Betty that he read her "boss's first issue." His review? "A little bulky, but good balance of style, accessories, and puff pieces." With this, Justin flounces off. Clap, clap. Someone give that actor a raise, because he is really selling this part.

Hilda gives Betty a "can you believe that kid?" look, and then says, "You didn't get in, did you?" It is at this point that I must take a sidebar from reporting the action to note that Betty's eyebrows are worse than ever. I mean, bushy is chic again, but this is simply too much. I kind of can't take it. I've plucked the shit out of my left brow in some kind of Pavlovian response to it already. Betty doesn't want to talk about the party, so she tells Hilda that she has to go email Daniel his itinerary for the day. Hilda sighs that she doesn't know why Betty is doing this to herself. You see, it seems that Hilda -- along with the rest of the world -- would really like to see Betty get a decent haircut. And here's the thing: Betty would look a thousand times better with a decent haircut, and she'd therefore probably feel better about things, too. Moreover, I am a firm believer that having nice hair doesn't mean a girl has been brainwashed by Mode or whatever. There's nothing wrong with wanting to look as good as you can, and while I don't think Betty is resisting external change for ethical reasons, I do think she's staying "ugly" because fundamentally she's scared that, even at her best, she won't be pretty enough. Wow, that was deep. I don't know where that came from. My whole point was merely that a cute haircut can lift the mood. At any rate, Hilda reminds us that she's the top-selling Herbalux salesperson in her district because she knows how to sell herself: "The hair, the face, the clothes. You gotta look it to be it, that's the Herbalux way." Or, as they used to say, fake it 'til you make it. Betty doesn't want to talk about getting a haircut, but Hilda presses on, saying that if Betty wants to fit in at Mode, she has to change, because the people at Mode won't. Betty thinks about this as the New Wobbly Music ominously wails us into commercial, making that act-out seem incredibly sinister, as though Betty is so fed up with her sister's desire to fix her up that she will stab her to death with a kitchen knife rather than look into some nice layers and maybe some side-swept bangs.

Okay, I am not really sure what's happening this week's telenovela, but suffice it to say, it involves some hoochie baring her abs, a soccer player caressing his ball, and a maid frantically giving a handjob to a candlestick. It's still quite amusing, but I have absolutely no idea what could possible be going on. I suspect that the maid is in love with the soccer player, and the hoochie is stealing him away from her. Anyway, Papa Suarez watches all this handjobbery with great interest, drinking his coffee, until Betty comes down and takes his mug away from him. She scolds him about drinking too much coffee when he's got a heart condition. Blah blah HMO blah, let's get to the makeover.

Cut to Mode, where Bradford strolls into see Wilhelmina, and Evil Marc eavesdrops, as is his wont. Wilhelmina tells Bradford in great detail all the hard work she's done already, and it's not even 9:30 AM. Bradford is impressed. "Daniel is trying, but some people are just naturals. Don't worry, I've got his back," Wilhelmina lies. Bradford has the smarts to look doubtful, and walks off. Wilhelmina holds up a warning "don't even say it" hand to Evil Marc, and he gets back to work. Or, as I suspect, to reading gossip blogs and IMing people.

Amanda and Betty meet in the elevator. Betty is holding a giant box of magazines. "Don't you look...sweaty," Amanda offers. Betty explains that she was holed up in the archives, fetching back issues. Amanda says that she missed Betty at the party last night: "What happened? Sale at the 99 Cent store?" I actually don't think this comment is bitchiness on Amanda's part. Wait, rewind: the comment about the 99 Cent store was definitely bitchiness, but as far as wondering where Betty was during the party, I suspect that Amanda never even saw Betty trying to get inside. Instead of lying and saying that she had a hot date, Betty stupidly admits that she couldn't get in. Sigh. What are we going to do with her? Amanda: "Are you serious? Oh, you poor thing. Those jerks at the door. All they seem to care about is appearance." With this, she dramatically sweeps out of the elevator. But here's the thing, and this opinion may not be popular: Betty IS working at a business that is based on appearance. And she is -- at least partially willfully, judging from her conversation with Hilda -- working the I Don't Care How I Look frumpy thing. Which is fine: a lot of people don't care about clothes, and are still totally smart, lovely people who are good at their jobs and deserve happiness and love. However, when you're working somewhere that's based on judging others, and you're working the I Don't Care How I Look frumpy thing, you can't be surprised when they judge you for not caring how you look. And while I really like Betty and want good things for her, I must admit that one of those good things I want for her is a prettier handbag. I also get that the "ugly" part is, you know, in the title, so I need to suck it up and accept that she's just never going to wear decent shoes, but her frumptastic look is starting to make my eyes hurt. She's like a messy room I am just dying to pick up.

Daniel agrees with me. "Look, it's all about appearance," he tells Betty, as they go through old magazines. Why, what could the lesson of this episode possibly be? It's right there on the tip of my tongue. "That's all Alex did to Hudson. He changed the font, the layout, hired some trendy photographers and my father thinks he's a hero. I could do the same thing at Mode." Betty nods, but reminds Daniel that his first issue was a huge success, anyway! Daniel thinks it was basically Wilhelmina's success, since he was pretty occupied losing The Book and forcing Betty to wear hot pants. He tells Betty to schedule a staff meeting for Monday morning.

Wilhelmina is changing clothes in her office. She's wearing yet another white ensemble. Evil Marc comes swanning up behind her: "Two words: Fab-oo!" He natters around with her collar and wonders who her "plus-one" is for this event, a breast cancer fundraiser. "The senator is in town," she tells Evil Marc, arranging a large purple ribbon on her lapel. "I thought Breast Cancer was pink," Evil Marc remarks, of the ribbon. "It is, but Alzheimer's went better with the outfit," she tells him. Marc sort of rolls his eyes at this. "What do you want, anyhow?" she asks him. "The conference room. And it's GOOD."

In the conference room, Betty and Daniel are still yapping about Alex's fonts and photogs, including one powerhouse photographer named Vincent Bianchi, who Betty loves, and who Daniel claims will never work for them again: "When he worked with Alex, they got into this huge blow-up. He thought Alex was a fraud; Alex thought he was a temperamental artiste. He vowed never to work for Meade Publications again." Betty points out that Daniel is not Alex. This does not go over well, as Daniel gets all huffy and inarticulate, and decides to stop talking about his Dead Brother and instead concentrate on looking at the rest of the photographers' files. Wilhelmina and Evil Marc watch from outside. "Tweedledee and Tweedledumpy have been in there for two hours, going over back issues of Hudson. Now, he's actually trying to rip off his own dead brother!" Evil Marc squeals. Wilhelmina replies, "It couldn't be any easier if I gave him a gun and he aimed it at his foot." They chortle evilly, as I wonder why Daniel isn't doing this in his giant, spacious, private office, where Betty can still answer his phone.

Night. Bradford and Mysterious Leatherman meet in the dark on a baseball diamond. Of course. ML tells Bradford that Fey Sommers's Car of Hot Hot Death has been released to a junk yard. This worries Bradford, who suspects that the "grease monkeys" will figure out that the steering was tampered with. He needs ML to track down that car as soon as he can! I find it hard to believe that there wasn't some kind of inquest at the time of the accident that wouldn't have uncovered all of this already. Maybe the Ugly Betty writers need to watch more Law & Order.

Speaking of Fey, she and Wilhelmina are drinking champers in the Mysterious Den of Recuperation and toasting to Bradford's realizing that Daniel sucks compared to Alex. As long as that wedge is between Bradford and Daniel, Fey explains, their father-son relationship is doomed, and Daniel's days at the magazine are numbered. Okay. Hang on a sec. Wouldn't it make more sense for Fey just to prove that Bradford tried to have her killed, rather than making Wilhelmina pull all this low-level wedge-driving stuff at the office? Because then Bradford would go to jail, Fey could emerge from the grave, and Daniel could be easily deposed. Listen, I love a good faked-death plot as much as the girl, but this storyline doesn't really track for me, as far as motivation goes. If Fey wants her job back, can't she just, you know, reappear?

Back at the magazine, Daniel and Betty are still in brainstorming mode; it's clearly quite late, since the cleaning people are vacuuming the office, and the two of them are surrounded by take-out boxes. Daniel is laying on the conference-room table and thinking aloud about shrinking the magazine down, to make it easier for women to put in their handbags. Just like Teen Vogue. Er, Teen Mode. Whatever. He wads up some paper in frustration, throws it at the wastepaper basket and misses: "See? Alex would have made that. He's the one that should be here, not me." Aw, Daniel and Betty both feel out of place at Mode. Just go ahead and insert my weekly Buck Up, Little Camper speech here. Betty sighs that she doesn't think Bradford would have given Daniel the job if he didn't think he was up to it. "Is this kung pao chicken or orange beef?" Daniel asks, moodily staring into one of the takeout containers. Betty points out that "after five hours," she doesn't think there's much of a difference anymore. "You know what Saturday is?" Daniel asks. "The Harvard/Yale football game. The biggest football game of the year." That's true...if you go to Harvard or Yale or live in 1928. It's a good thing Daniel isn't editing Sports Illustrated. He whinges some more about how his daddy never loved him, and never took him to the game and still won't, even though Alex is dead: "It's okay. I'm used to it. Every parent has a favorite, right?" Betty offers that her dad doesn't, but Daniel gloomily informs her that they all do.

Casa Suarez, the morning. Hilda is yelling at Justin to get a move on or he'll be late for school, as Betty sits at the kitchen table and yawns, surrounded by photographers' portfolios. She tells Hilda that she was at work really late, dealing with all the emotional problems Daniel ought to be telling a professional. She looks thoughtful, and asks Hilda whether she thinks their father has a favorite. Hilda chuckles. "Yeah, I think so," she says. "You," Betty says. "YOU," Hilda tells her, saying Betty's right up there with Tito Puente and his nose hair clippers as far as their dad is concerned. Aw. That is love. Speaking of Papa Suarez, he hits his cue and enters the kitchen, asking why Betty was at work so late the night before. Betty tells him that they're swamped, trying to find some new photographers. Her father thinks Betty's working too hard, and should ask for a raise. "Okay, Dad," Betty says in the same tone I use when my mother tells me that I should be the head writer of SNL. It means, "You are sweet, but that's totally delusional." Papa notices that one of the books is Vincent Bianchi's, and wouldn't you know it? Turns out he grew up four blocks away and Papa Suarez knows Papa Bianchi. "I always thought that kid would end up in jail," Papa says thoughtfully. Betty rolls her eyes at this and takes off to work. "PUT DOWN THE COFFEE" she yells back to her father as she goes.

Vincent Bianchi's studio. He's doing artist-y things when he gets a phone call. Why, it's Betty! She very charmingly chats him up about Queens and his past work a bit. It seems that they went to the same high school and grew up four blocks from each other, in a neighborhood that sounds as though it is bordered on all sides by places to buy snacks, especially sausage and pepper heroes. Now I'm hungry. Finally, Betty gets down to brass tacks, but Vincent hangs up when he hears "my boss, Daniel Meade." Sadly, sausages will only get you so far.

While Betty is waxing poetic about sandwiches, Wilhelmina is giving Evil Marc directions in her office: she'd like him to frame and hang all her "commendations" and arrange her many awards before the Senator comes to pick her up for the Breast Cancer Ball, or whatever it is she's going to. Marc agrees. He fondles one of the awards longingly, and begins practicing his acceptance speech, but Wilhelmina will have none of his shenanigans today, and orders him to get to work. I don't know why she's so stressed out, but I imagine that having to keep the news that their former boss has sort of faked her own death would get to a girl.

Betty trudges home past Sal's Deli. She looks thoughtful.

While Betty ponders sausages, Mysterious Leatherman and Bradford have another mysterious meeting. Mysterious Leatherman has tracked down Fey's car at that junkyard. Unfortunately, it's being auctioned for $10,000. Bradford acts all put out, but I'm sure he's got that much cash in his wallet. Or just steal the car, dudes. Or burn down the junkyard. Or go in and smash the car in. Do I have to do everything here? Why is everyone on this show so bad at this?

Daniel's holding court in the conference room, a bunch of Modes on the table. He wants to know which of two covers he's mocked up appeals more to the ladies in the room. Not surprisingly, Amanda and Betty disagree with each other, and Daniel -- rightly realizing that Amanda is more firmly in the demographic to whom he's trying to sell magazines -- sends Betty off to fetch him some cream cheese for his bagel. While she's off on this errand, his phone rings and he answers it himself. Amanda watches him handle the telephone like this is the sexiest thing she's ever seen. Daniel is pretty cute.

Cut to Betty, who's still walking down the hall holding Daniel's bagel. He trots up behind her and stops her: "Betty? Vincent Bianchi is on line 3. For you." Betty looks surprised, but trots over to her desk and picks up the phone. Her shirt is truly awful, but it occurs to me that all of Betty's heinous blouses would just look fashion-forward on someone who had a decent haircut and good shoes. Daniel paces and listens in as Betty giggles to Vincent about sandwiches. "Are you serious? Oh my god, that would be so wonderful, Mr. Bianchi. Okay, Vincent. Okay, that was my boss that picked up," she chortles, and then puts her hand over the mouthpiece and tells Daniel that Vincent loved "the sausages [she] sent over," and thinks she has "cojones." Daniel, understandably, looks totally perplexed. Betty hisses that she'll explain later, and tells him to go pick up his extension. He scampers into his office, and pushes Amanda plumb off his desk in this rush to get to the phone. She squeaks like a little mouse.

Shortly thereafter, Daniel emerges from his office and interrupts Betty eating what I believe is his bagel. She squeaks herself and spits it out and tosses the detritus into a drawer. Or, you could have just swallowed. Men tend to prefer that to the spitting. Oh my GOD. I can't believe I just made that joke. I'm really, really sorry. Um. Anyway. So, Daniel doesn't know what Betty did, but they're having lunch with Bianchi on Monday, "at Madison 6." And Betty's invited. Daniel smirks with glee. "And maybe we could both dress up a little? On Monday?" he adds, tentatively. Betty nods, but looks confused. "I think he meant natural fibers, sweetie," Amanda says, sticking her head out of Daniel's office. I don't think that's going to help all that much.

Cut to Mode's Closet, where Betty is frantically looking for something to wear to the lunch, and I have to tell you, Christina is not being that helpful. "You look fine," she tells Betty. Oh, Christina. Don't be an idiot. Betty does not look fine and you know it, and moreover, she said she wants to look different, so help a sister out, instead of insisting that the frumpy girl remain so to make some kind of statement for you. I don't see you skipping a trip to the waxer. But Christina is on a tear about how the women at Mode aren't "real," because real women "snort when they laugh and have fat arses." You know what, though? Women with fat arses and snorty laughs are also allowed to want to wear something fabulously chic for a big business lunch, and women who don't have fat arses are still actually "real women." Wearing a size 2 doesn't mean your insides are made of circuitry and wires, just as wearing a size 14 doesn't mean you're a slob. Frankly, this is all a bit hypocritical from Christina, who claims to truly love fashion. Who is she to say that Betty can't have a change of clothes if she wants one, especially now that she's been exposed to the Mode world after years of running around in a poncho? Maybe Betty's tastes are legitimately changing. "I thought you wanted to run a magazine one day, not spend twelve hours a day wondering what your hair's doing," Christina snaps. I have to admit, this entire scene really bothered me, and it hit the nail on the head of what sticks in my craw about this show (holy mixed metaphors, there). I feel like people can be interested in fashion and concerned about what their hair looks like without simultaneously being heartless, soulless, brainless morons who are bad at their jobs. (Fine: it seems I spend a lot of time worrying about my hair. Is that so wrong?) This scene also raises a question for me: can you be a valued employee at a fashion magazine if you don't give a shit about fashion? You can be a great assistant, for sure, and Betty clearly is. But she is never, ever going to get promoted at Mode because there's simply no editorial spot that she seems remotely interested in, other perhaps than dealing with the photographers. Her frumpy look is hurting her professionally, I think, or it could in the future, and I don't think it's wrong for her to want to address that. She doesn't have to start wearing weird avant-garde couture, but she could stand to upgrade to, like, a cute pencil skirt and a little cashmere sweater. Which basically is what Betty tells Christina: "Do you honestly think I have any future here if I don't try to change?" Good girl. She storms out, tripping over a rolling rack on the way. Christina just looks cranky.

At home, Betty is ripping eyebrows out of magazines and sticking them over her own. Oh, praise God, she's going to address the Brow Issue. Her father comes into the bathroom and wonders what she's doing. "I work in an office full of glamazon women who are six feet tall and perfectly waxed. That's what's going on," Betty tells him. "'Glamazon'?" Papa Suarez repeats. "Never mind," Betty says, sadly. Her father hugs her, and this is where we learn that it is more important to be beautiful on the inside than on the outside. Hilda watches this touching father/daughter moment, and smiles. You can tell Betty doesn't really buy this beauty inside/frumpy outside theory, but we know from the plinking piano music in the background that it must be true. Betty reminds her dad to take his heart medicine, and he grouses as he walks offscreen. "See?" Hilda says, raising her brows. "Shut up. Just help me," Betty retorts.

Oh dear. And now it's time for the makeover, which does not, I hate to tell you, end in a heartwarming shot of Betty now looking like America Ferrera (i.e., way cuter). Instead, Hilda drags Betty to the salon of a flashy, tacky-fantastic woman named "Choly." Because this show loves a cross-cutting montage, while Choly and her staff are examining Betty (Choly, it must be said, looks taken aback at how much work she must do on poor Betty's brows), Wilhelmina is getting her hair attended to in a very posh salon, the sort that gives you champagne.

Betty shows Choly a picture of, I think, Salma Hayek, and inquires doubtfully as to whether Choly can make her look like that. Choly tells her to relax, "and let Choly do her thing." She then leans over and tells her assistant to get the big tweezers.

As Wilhelmina serenely submits to having her brows threaded, Betty screams as hers are waxed. Oh, honey, just be glad you're not getting a Brazilian.

As Wilhelmina gets a massage and guzzles champers, Betty giggles as the pedicurist vigorously scrubs the bottom of her feet. I admit, I do that too: both the champagne guzzling and the giggling. I am a very ticklish person. A ticklish, alcoholic person.

As Wilhelmina admires her new sleek look -- which is very similar to her old sleek look -- Betty chokes on Aqua Net. Yes, hold your breath when they're spraying chemicals in your face, dear. God, she does need a mother figure.

And finally, while Wilhelmina emerges looking fab, Betty looks incredibly flashy. Her brows look mildly better, but there is...well, it seems to be a beehive involved. As well as huge, Bedazzled acrylic nails. And what look like rhinestones stuck along her eyelash line. Frankly, I'm concerned that Justin may have a heart attack when he sees her.

However, Juston doen't get to weigh in. Instead, Wyclef Jean and Shakira inform us that hips don't lie as Betty waggles hers down the street. It turns out that the men in Queens think Betty looks hot, from Walter, to Walter's friends, to construction workers. Betty is adorably pleased by the catcalls from the dudes working on the street, going so far as to thank her hardhatted friends for whistling at her. It's really rather endearing. From a high-fashion standpoint, however, she looks...really over-the-top and tacky. I will say, however, that America Ferrera has great calves, and should wear heels constantly.

At Mode, Betty gets on the elevator with Bradford, who doesn't recognize her now that she has a fountain of hair flowing from the top of her head. She politely reintroduces herself, and you can tell that he's taken aback. "Oh. Yes. You look...taller," he finally manages. Betty just thanks him and smoothes her beehive. Excuse me, it's actually a beehive WITH A SIDE PONYTAIL. I don't think I need to tell you that everyone in the office stares at her as she walks from the elevator to her desk. Evil Marc actually even turns around and chases her, just so he can get a picture of her on his Razr. "I think I just found my new screensaver!" he crows.

Meanwhile, in his office, Daniel takes a phone call from "a woman who won't give her his name," but who we know to be Fey Sommers. Fey asks Daniel yet again how well he really knows his father, and suggests that he ask Bradford what he's been up to at "the Bayonne salvage yard." This plotline is moving as slowly as an actual daily soap opera, like how on Passions it takes one month to get through Valentine's Day. Which reminds me, I haven't watched Passions in ages. Once they dispensed with the storyline of the nun who was in love with her own brother, I was kind of out. Although, honestly, I was kind of out the moment they made the delectably evil Julian Crane -- a man who carried around a book titled How To Kill Your Sister And Get Away With It -- into kind of a lovesick sad sack. But then I was in again when they had a terrible tsunami and Katherine Crane surfed the wave on the coffin of her dead sister. But then I was out again when they decided to give the storyline about the girl who starts hooking for her boyfriend, who's brainwashed her into believing she's accidentally a serial killer, to the worst actress on the whole show. If it's picked up again, please email me.

Daniel hangs up and runs out to ask Betty who the heck that was on the phone, but her insane new look stops him short. "Whoa...look...at you," he stutters. She smiles. This is sad, and yet insane. Has she no eyes? Has she no mirrors? Has she no ability to read a room? Daniel, totally gobsmacked, asks Betty to see whether they can get a table "in the back" of Madison 6. For, um, privacy. Betty cheerfully agrees, and Daniel goes back to his office, where he peeks out at Betty through the doorjamb. Her shirt? Has but one sleeve. You know, if Christina had helped her, none of this would have happened.

Marc comes flying into Wilhelmina's office. "Have you seen her yet?" he asks breathlessly. Wilhelmina -- who I shall be asking to fill in for me at Go Fug Yourself the time I go on vacation -- dryly retorts as she absently straightening her awards that it looks as if Queens threw up. "He should be quite impressed," Marc assures Wilhelmina when he notices this moment of OCD with the awards, and then promptly admires her new hair. He is a very good assistant.

Staff meeting time! In the conference room, Betty is standing up front, helping Daniel to present his ideas for the redesign to the rest of the editorial staff. From the mock-up, it looks as though Daniel would like to transform Mode into Blush, the terrible magazine in Just Shoot Me!. But no one is looking at Daniel's new cover ideas, because everyone is staring at Betty. Daniel just keeps yapping -- including wondering whether they really need "another editorial on eating disorders," which prompts a very skinny girl to race out of the room -- and everyone else just keeps staring. Bradford, at least, appears to be paying attention, because when Daniel mentions Vincent Bianchi, Bradford wonders why Daniel's even trying on that front. Daniel says that he thinks Betty might be able to talk Vincent into working with them. As for Wilhelmina, she's not impressed. She gets up and stands to Betty to tell the entire room that "sometimes change is a positive thing, and sometimes it can spin out of control." She is clearly talking about Betty as she notes that sometimes you end up with "bold new colors and a daring new look," but you haven't improved on a thing. People snicker. Betty looks wounded. Daniel warningly says Wilhelmina's name, and she brightly retorts that she's only saying that "sometimes change isn't for the better. Sometimes it can make a bad situation worse." Which is not at all nice of her. Although it is true. But I'm also the bitch who called Renée Zellweger "Squinty McBulimiaface" last week, so I am clearly a monster. I would not, however, call her that in a meeting. I do my trash talking behind people's backs, like a normal person. Anyway. Poor Betty just stands there and smiles bravely at Daniel as we go to commercial. That was very, very uncalled for on Wilhelmina's part, although it's not surprising that she doesn't pick on people her own size. Nevertheless, she's an asshole.

After the ads, Betty sniffles in the ladies' room. Daniel comes in, saying that he just wanted to make sure she was okay. "It's just another day at Mode," she snuffles. He tells her not to listen to anything Wilhelmina says: "She's a jerk." Betty cries that she's the jerk, thinking that a new hairdo could make a difference "on someone like" her. Oh, the self-pity portion of the hour. My favorite. Although the poor girl has certainly earned a little wallow time: Wilhelmina IS a big jerk, and a bully as well. Daniel looks very sympathetic and admits that he doesn't know what to say: "This is the way this place works. It is a fashion magazine. Appearance means something here." Ah, the truth. That's very refreshing. Daniel seems genuinely sad that Betty is so upset, which is kind of dreamy, I will admit. He smiles that she'll feel better at lunch. "You can order anything you want," he adds, kindly, grinning a bit. He really is rather sweet. Okay, fine: I love him. Betty tells Daniel that she's not going to lunch, and he's stunned. He tells her that Bianchi wants to meet her, and reminds her that she's the whole reason the lunch is even happening. Betty cries that Daniel should just take Amanda, because she'll fit right in: "Just go. You're going to be late. And don't forget the proposal." I really do feel for her. I do. But do we have to sit through this Betty Feels Sad, Considers Quitting scenario every week?

So Daniel sits and waits in a town car. The door opens, and Bradford slides in. "I didn't know you were joining us. Afraid I might botch things up with Bianchi if I were on my own?" Daniel asks. Aw, he's full of doubt and self-pity, too. It's annoying for the viewer, but as a way to have Daniel's characterization mirror Betty's, it works nicely. Bradford just says that he had a craving for the quail at Madison 6. Finally, Amanda opens the car door and crawls in between the two men. "Okay. Betty Suarez is here. Shall we?" she asks. This is going to go beautifully.

Back at the mag, Wilhelmina fiddles with the giant vase of black lilies in her office, while Marc mans the phones. She has this fantastic Hollywood Regency-y mirrored credenza in her office that I totally want. Marc comes in and tells her that the Senator is "running late to pick [her] up." Wilhelmina looks ever so slightly disappointed, but not surprised. Very subtle work from Vanessa L. Williams there.

Over at Madison 6, Vincent is unimpressed by the restaurant, and by Bradford, but he is pleased to meet "Betty." Amanda grins wildly. "HOLA," she says, with a hard "H," and props her boobs up in his face.

At Mode, Betty mopes. People continue to stare at her, perhaps because she still only has one sleeve. Maybe she should attempt to salvage this by showing up each day in an even glitzier, tackier outfit. It could be her thing. By the end of the season, she could have, like, a jacket made of Christmas lights and a hat composed entirely of fruit. When she slogs back to her desk, she notices that dumb Daniel has OF COURSE forgotten his proposal for Vincent, and takes off running.

Madison 6. Bradford is waxing poetic about the quail. The idea of eating quail freaks me out, although I like chicken. Is that hypocritical? I think it's because it seems like I would be eating street pigeons, although I know this is not accurate, and also because bird feet freak me out and quail seem like they would be served with their little feet sticking out. I don't think I want to talk about this anymore. Vincent turns to Amanda and wonders what people "from the old neighborhood" would think about quail. That it freaks them out? She sort of smiles. He offers her the bread basket. "Carbs? No," Amanda says automatically, and then recovers thusly: "But who cares about carbs when you're from Queens, right?" This is punctuated by a very stagy wink. Vincent seems moderately charmed by this, but Daniel orders "a very large glass of wine."

Mode. Marc is flirting with some boy in some room when Betty comes flying in and begs him to cover her phones. He offers to take the proposal to Madison 6 for her, telling her that they probably won't even let her past the host, dressed as she is. He snatches the report away from her, holding it just far enough over her head to make her jump for it. Finally, she just grabs it: "MARC! I can't hit your boss, but I can hit you, and everyone knows I'm from Queens so I WILL DO IT." Mark hands it over. "Thank you!" she says. I think he kind of liked that.

Luncheon. Vincent is chatting up Amanda, saying that none of the girls at their high school looked like her while he was a student. "Does Mrs. Rodriguez still teach there?" he asks. Amanda smiles, stalls, and finally says, "Um....I'm gonna say...SHE DIED." Daniel sucks down some more wine.

At Mode, the Senator has arrived at last to pick up Wilhelmina. "So, you're still just the creative director?" he asks, looking around her office, unimpressed. Wilhelmina sighs. "Yes, Daddy," she replies, and trudges sadly after him and out the door. See, Betty? At least your Daddy loves you.

Madison 6. Bradford is pitching the layout they'd like Vincent to shoot, but he's wholly uninterested. Instead, he turns to "Betty" and asks what her father does for a living. "Investment banker," Amanda responds automatically. "Your father's an investment banker? BETTY?" Daniel asks pointedly. Amanda recovers thusly: "That was his dream. If he ever made it out of the barrio." (Which she pronounces "berry-o.") Vincent raises a brow, and Daniel announces that he can't go on like this. He tells Vincent that Amanda is not, in fact, Betty. Vincent chuckles: "No kidding. This girl's never been within ten feet of a sausage and pepper hero in her life." "He is SO RIGHT," Amanda announces. Daniel sighs: "[Betty] didn't want to come. It was my fault. And she wanted to meet you very much. But because we're all caught up in some stupid image, it made her very insecure about fitting into a place like this." Slightly inarticulate, probably because of the booze. It is at this moment, of course, that we hear Betty arguing with the maitre d', who, indeed, does not believe that she is who she says she is. "I can't imagine why you thought she wouldn't fit in," Bradford remarks dryly as Daniel gets up to go rescue her. Her hair gets bigger with every scene.

When Betty gets to the table, she and Vincent are clearly thrilled to make each other's acquaintance. Daniel announces that he knows there isn't a reason in hell Vincent would want to work with them, but that he thinks it would be great for both of them: "I'd give you free rein. I give you my word. Actually, I give you Betty's word. She's the only one that's been straight with you so far." Betty nods. "You know, you're nothing like your brother," Vincent tells Daniel contemplatively. I think he means this as a compliment, but Daniel gets all mopey about it: "No, I'm not. I'm not Alex." He leaves. Okay, drama queen. Betty hands Vincent the proposal, and follows him out. She, of course, also manages to trip over another table and almost fall on her face. On the way of the restaurant, however, she is successful in getting a matchbook for Justin, so the day wasn't a total loss. I find it interesting that they've left Vincent eating with Amanda and Bradford. Like that threesome is going to have anything to talk about.

Back at the office, Daniel apologizes for not insisting that Betty come to lunch with them. He is also sorry that she let Wilhelmina get to her: "Fake nails or not, you came through for us, Betty. Bianchi was only there because of you. I guess you really do have cojones, huh?" They smile at each other. Bradford comes in to interrupt the lovefest, and Betty excuses herself. Bradford tells Daniel that Vincent has agreed to work with them: "His one stipulation is that he answers only to you, and to no other, quote, 'blowhards.'" Daniel nods at this news, but he can't seem to suppress a giggle of glee. He then picks up the phone and tells Betty to send an email "to all creative" informing them that Vincent Bianchi will be shooting their December feature spread. "SHUT UP!" Betty yells back at him gleefully. "Um, right away, sir," she recovers. They both look as happy as pigs in slop. It's sort of adorable. Bradford congratulates Daniel on this coup, and Daniel hesitantly asks him what he knows about the Bayonne Scrapyard. Bradford assures him that he's never even been to Bayonne. Daniel looks thoughtful. And cute.

Whereas Wilhelmina looks sad and cute, in her own cute office. She goes from "sad" to "enraged" when she reads the email about Vincent Bianchi. She pushes away from her desk and starts tearing shit up -- throwing things on the floor, breaking her awards, stomping her feet, the whole nine yards. Marc gently tiptoes in there and glides out with the flowers, saving them from certain destruction. Bless him.

But at the Suarez house, life is good. Betty is home in time for dinner. She tells her dad that they landed Vincent Bianchi for a big shoot. "That's a big deal? I could have gotten you that kid," Papa Suarez says. Betty grins and tells him it is a big deal, and her dad hugs her and tells her he's proud of her. Over his shoulder, Betty watches Hilda watching them, and tells Papa that if not for Hilda's makeover, none of it would have happened. Papa reaches out his other arm, and it's like a big Suarez sandwich. Then Betty goes off to play Dance Dance Revolution with Justin and it's...okay, it's really rather adorable. Dammit. I think my cold heart might be melting a little bit.