Ugly Betty Recap 204: “Grin and Bear It”

It’s all sort of funny but also a little too obvious. And if they were going to go the stereotypical route anyway, they could at least have given us a chance to see hot, buff man candy editors by throwing in some gay interest types of publications. You know, like Details. Or Men’s Health. Or AfterElton.

Thrilled to be back on their own floor, Marc starts sniffing a purse and says, “Ah! The smell of Prada. There’s no place like home.” But then Wili bursts the Prada bubble by reminding him that Mode is no longer their home. She’s saddened by the realization that her greatest desire has always been to run a fashion magazine, and Meade only has one which she can never have. “All I was,” she says, “was a simple girl with an evil plan.” I think they got that line from a Hillary Clinton bumper sticker.

Being faced with the prospect of having to work for “Player” sends Marc into convulsions (and can you blame him?), as he writhes on the floor in despair.

Marc: We’re doomed! Doomed!
Wili: Off the floor, Marc. [He gets up and brushes himself off.] No. Your instincts were right. Back on the floor again.

Cut to Betty typing guiltily at her desk. Daniel asks her for “sweetener,” but her guilty mind hears this as “cheater.” Boy, it’s a good thing he didn’t ask her along on a scavenger “hunt.” Then Professor Bristow calls and demands she see him that day at 2 o'clock. Uh oh. Jack Bristow is so going to taser the truth out of her.

At the prof’s office, Betty’s trying to get up the courage to admit to her treachery, especially when he twists the irony knife even deeper by talking about how refreshingly “honest” her essay was.

Professor: Your story moved me so much I couldn’t bear to keep it to myself. And that’s not a pun. I never pun.

So, good news! He’s turned her article over to a colleague at the prestigious New York Review! You can imagine how happy that makes her.

Cut to Daniel busily at work, meaning walking quickly through hallways on his way to spa treatments. Actually, he’s meeting with the guy from Atlantic Attire and … Hey! It’s The Head that Ate the WB! A.k.a. James Van Der Beek! And it’s like Dawson graduated film school and went on to become head of his own clothing empire. And a total dick.

The Head is all about “dude” and high-fives and power punches and “catch you later” gun fingers. I know Ugly Betty is dedicated to undermining stereotypes, but they seem to have gone a bit overboard — between this guy and Deputy Leo and Henry’s cube mate — to make it clear all men in fashion aren’t poofters like Marc.

The Head tells Daniel there’s a problem with him signing an advertising contract with Mode since Alexis has returned to work. Atlantic Attire is new and “innocent,” so he doesn’t want to be associated with “the whole he/she element.” Wouldn’t that be a good thing, like you’d sell twice the amount of clothes?

Daniel: Are you kidding with this?
The Head: Oh, don’t be all “He’s a hater.” I’m the most tolerant man in town. I’ve got a black and a Jew assistant. And the gays… couldn’t have an Oscar party without ’em.

Well, he does have a point there. Have you ever been to an Oscar party thrown by straight people? I have. It’s called the Super Bowl.

In Daniel’s office, Alexis asks how the meeting went. Daniel’s like, “Great!” But Alexis has known him long enough to be wary of the grin and the thumb. She gets him to admit the truth, that the client has an issue with her.

She justifiably gets upset and runs out, talking about what a mess she is since the accident and how she can’t do anything right, including walk in heels. And she picks up her shoe and flings it across the room where it clocks Marc in the head, coming perilously close to a Single White Female eyeball impalement.

Secret Love Dungeon/Kennel for Doggies Who Love Their Owners a Little Too Much. Amanda, looking through old issues of Mode, asks for help from Halston who, like a gayer version of Lassie, woofs at a particular issue. “What is it boy?” Amanda asks, opening it to find a picture of Fey partying it up at the Palladium with Oates, as in “Hall and,” a sign of how, despite what she might have thought of herself, Fey was C list at best.

Next to Fey is her assistant, “Wanda,” a mousy all-girls-school type working a pretty fantastic Cleopatra Jones ’fro. Back at her desk, Amanda plays around with the photo on her computer and finds that, factoring in for age, wardrobe, and botox, Wanda is actually Wili. Or as Amanda says, “ugly Wili.” But then Wili pulls a Michael Myers and scares the bejeezus out of Amanda by popping up behind her.