“NYC Prep” Recap: Lofty Aspirations — Have These Kids Never Heard Of Hubris?
This week’s installment of “NYC Prep” was the first episode where it felt like we were past the character introductions, and finally into the thick of their lives. What did we find when we got there? The clan lives to achieve higher. Kelli with her singing, Taylor with dance, PC with … well, we’re not quite sure there … maybe let’s just say “coolness,” Jessi with her “career” in fashion (WTF, Miss I Can’t Even Vote Yet?), and as always, there was Camille, ever the social-climbing slut.We start off with Braying Sluttypants (aka Jessi) and Gayster Dandyman (PC) talking in Jessi’s kitchen about Camille, who wants to get involved with Jessi’s charity, Operation Smile. Jessi and Camille are like wild hyenas ready to eat each other. Later, Camille comes to Jessi’s apartment for what is basically an interview, as Camille smiles and bobs her head insipidly and Jessi makes it clear that she’s a henchman who will work her to the bone. In an attempt to finish on top, Camille, a student of the all-girls Nightingale-Bamford, disses Jessi’s school (and PC’s, too), Dwight: “I hear it’s easier, like it’s more laid back…” Ooooh, ouch. Jessi is incensed. Gotta side with Camille on this one, though, because she was clearly alluding to this reference: Dwight=Dumb White Idiots Getting High Together. Nightingale girls might not get laid until they’re 24, but they’ve at least got better heads on them.
Cut to Kelli, who is interviewing voice coaches. The producers lure in some real dorks for her to meet with: poor gay musical man and cat-lady banjo player. She eventually gets in with a fancypants coach who has produced some C-list artists. But, gotta say that Kelli does have a voice on her. She’s not half bad!
The boring subjects of this week’s eppy: Taylor and Sebastian. Taylor is a bad student with a clunker for a brain. She just wants to dance! She has a jazz recital that’s more like a strip routine, and oops, there was a hole in her tights just at the crotch! Taylor’s ex-flame, Sebastian, goes out with “Angel,” another private school girl, who is a senior. He says, “Getting with older girls is an accomplishment ’cause you’re like, yeah, I’m in 10th grade, getting with a senior girl.” No further comment necessary.
As for Jessi, she has a passion for fashion. She wants to get an internship, and yes, it is slightly ridiculous to think of someone doing one at 17, but when she says lots of private school kids do them, she’s right. At my school, we had this bulls**t thing during the end of senior year called “Bridge Trimester,” where you basically didn’t go to class and worked on “independent projects” or, yes, got an internship somewhere cool because someone’s dad was a famous restaurateur … or Harrison Ford. Just sayin’. Anyhow, Jessi is sooooo torn. Does she want to go into straight fashion, or does she want the marketing, too? She will turn into one of those awful PR girls who latch themselves onto designers and fashion editors. Or she will design a line of mediocre handbags. She’s already set her determined, beady eyes on some horrible-sounding gopher job for fashion label Charlotte Ronson. Girl, you know they only let you interview because they’d get publicity, right? When she walks into the office and sees all the other girls applying for the job, Jessi says, “I felt like a prostitute.” You should!
As always, I end with PC, our tragic and flawed prince, who we learned last night is 100 percent fruity. That’s OK, we love you all the same. Unfortunately, PC’s gazillionaire granddaddy probably doesn’t. Page Six reported that he’s very upset about the show. Anyhow, PC gets to help out for some photo shoot for a socialite magazine, and ends up getting in front of the camera with another dude to make sexy pictures. We’re gonna bet they were making sexy time later, too.
All in all, the gang is blindly, desperately reaching for the stars with their inflated egos and lack of reality perception. The fall is inevitable. Haven’t you kids read Hamlet? Well, at least Camille has. The others, we’re not so sure.