No Longer on Top: ANTM's Dominique
Now that I’ve returned from Florida, I can finally say my belated farewell to Dominique. What will the show be without her trannylicious egoism to fuel catfights and catty comments from the panel? We will no longer hear Miss J utter such witty quips as “That’s why it’s called Cover Girl ‘cause it covers up the man in you” or witness Tyra’s guffaws at suburban mall get-ups and soccer mom hair. There’s something to be said for Dominique’s tacky inappropriateness, her stringent inability to adhere to fashion norms, and her startling self-confidence that extends to her third person narrative about her greatest love of all: herself . Not only does it make for prime reality tv viewing, but it also imbued the competition with an awkward realism born of Dominique’s genuine eccentricities.
Now, we are left with two blondes: one flaky, one fake, and an African queen bitch. These are all archetypes that we’ve seen before in past cycles and frankly, their character arcs have grown stale. Dominique infused the show with something altogether new. Sure, we’ve had androgynous divas in the past, but none with Dominique’s geeky laugh or gauche mannerisms. In her mind, she was “Princess Dominique” but in the harsh reality of the panel and audience, she was nothing more than a pauper blessed with perfect bone structure. And yet sometimes, we really believed she was fashion royalty when confronted with that imposing beauty in her photoshoots.
Dominique embodied the ultimate illusion offered by the fashion industry: any beast can become a beauty. This is not to say that she was a homely wretch, but it’s clear that she wasn’t as refined or feminized as the other girls. She was crude, flamboyant, and incredibly draggish. And yet she was incredibly gorgeous. The loss of Dominique ends this cycle’s celebration of awkward beauties in all their fantastic, self-deluded, exaggerated, eyebrow-arched glory: