It’s obvious from the very beginning that Agnes the Model is bad news, but Little Jenny Humphrey’s in no mood to listen to her family, her friends, or even the tiny shred of good sense buried deep inside herself.
Just because someone wears a cute gray miniskirt with a fringed vest doesn’t mean they’re a good business partner, Little J.
On a similar note, just because Nate Archibald is super dreamy doesn’t mean he’s worth setting fire to your life.
Even if he does look exceptionally hot in a blue t-shirt.
Or if his muscles fill out a gray striped henley so well you think he could do some moonlight modeling for Abercrombie & Fitch.
Also, just becuase your dad dresses like the Brawny Man doesn’t mean you have to act out like a petulant raccoon.
Reform begins at home, Little J, remember that.
I can see you’ve worked some magic on your brother Dan. This gray shawl-collar sweater paired with black sport coat is actually a pretty snazzy combo for him.
I know Vanessa’s been sucking away all Nate’s attention the same way she sucks up every bit of costume jewelry within a ten mile radius, but that doesn’t mean you can let her get away with looking better than you.
I can where you were heading, embroidering some bright flowers on her teal plaid wrap blouse, but even those didn’t manage to make Vanessa look as terrible as normal. You should have enticed her to pile on more gold necklaces–the one she’s wearing here is almost classy.
Also, she makes a leather jacket look hip but not trashy. Maybe you should ask for some advice from Miss Abrams.
Lily Van der Woodsen has only ever been nice to you, so watch out when you crash her black tie fundraiser, especially when she’s looking so lovely.
Asking her to put on that ugly Incan sacrifical necklace was a brilliant stroke–it nearly eliminated all the positive points she had with her blue gown and the lovely hair and makeup she’s wearing.
But the truth of it, Little J, is that nothing you do to anyone else can possibly make up for your own massive sartorial failings this episode.
Cute hair, but terrible makeup. Jenny’s behind working on her collection but she still has twenty minutes to cake as much eyeliner on as physically possible?
Here, Jenny is suffering from Emma-syndrome. The jacket would look better if she was a few years older, and that pathetic little hat just looks bad, period. While her makeup is still heavy, at least it’s mainly confined to where it’s supposed to be.
Even more pathetic than the hat perched precariously on the side of her head is this lace prom dress that shrunk in the wash.
You can tell things are going off the rails, but it’s not until this final shot that you realize just how far our little J has fallen.
Three days worth of eye makeup, smudged and smeared, a blanket that doubles as a poncho, and one of her dad’s old hipster t-shirts. Remember the days when Jenny cooed over an Eleanor Waldorf original? Those days are long gone.