Wow, that was something of an achievement — not only one of the best episodes of the series, and by far the most successful finale — but I think what truly made it great was the sound across America of fangirls’ heads exploding again, and again, and again. So awesome!
Not a sacred cow, from fake rape outrage to Jenny’s v-card, goes unmolested. It’s magnificent, high romance across the entire spectrum — from Chekov to Austen to Thackeray — while still remaining perfectly clever and balanced, with the fresh perspective and dynamic reassessment the show has desperately needed.
Plus all night you got Georgina haunting the edges of their lives like Catherine Earnshaw, barely visible and completely scorned, having finally won her way back from Belarus in a blonde wig and giant fur coat.
Okay, so Blair ditches Cameron but then misses the Empire State meet-up by a second anyway, because Dorota has gone into labor. The entire cast somehow hoofs it over to the hospital, because once again they’re supposed to give a shit about Dorota. Godparents Cyrus and Eleanor get all kinds of obsessed with the baby, which rightfully and hilariously terrifies Dorota and the other one.
Dan and Serena get their asses pretty much dumped by Vanessa and Nate after Jenny GG’s a picture of them sleeping it off (they only kissed, making the whole situation precisely the same as the Santorini Situation, right down to the ways and reasons S lies about it to Nate) — and even when Nate takes her back, S decides she wants to explore life on her own.