But whatever. She
loses anyway. Later, Project Runway.
Kenley and
the cat clock dress
I have a new
favorite show. Destroyed in Seconds.
It’s on Discovery. The whole show is about stuff
getting wrecked and smashed and obliterated: cars,
buildings, planes, towns; all the things a person can
think about destroying get thoroughly decimated. In
the episode I just watched, this one guy in Colorado got
himself a bulldozer and then armored it with layers of
steel and poured concrete, and then he went on a
town-destroying rampage. His real-life Killdozer was,
luckily, caught on tape while doing its thing. He even won a
game of chicken with this other giant construction
vehicle, and he just shoved the whole thing out of his
way. I spent all three viewings of this footage --
twice for me, one to share with special friends --
fantasizing about having my own steel-reinforced
battering ram and just driving down Wilshire, letting
valet guys have fun parking it, crushing the vehicles
of celebrities I find annoying. Like…well, dang, I
had this whole rant written naming names of famous
people’s cars I’d like to see compacted
and then I realized that if someone actually went and played
out my Killdozer fantasies by proxy that I’d
get sued for it like Judas Priest by those suicide
kids' parents.
Why
couldn’t this entire season of Project
Runway have been more like Destroyed in
Seconds? Why no challenges that involved ejecting from a
burning air-show plane and sewing a chic parachute
before hitting the ground? Why not more fireballs in
the Parsons workroom? Why no Tim Gunn careening
through Diane von Furstenberg’s showroom in an
out-of-control Saturn? Why, oh Runway, was this
your least awesome season ever? WHY NO REUNION SHOW?!
(And by the way, the blog called Project Rungay did
its own pretty darn funny reunion show composed of
still photos and captions, and I recommend it. I have no
idea who does that blog. I’m not part of its
"street team" or anything. But I like to help out
fellow obsessives where I can. You’re welcome, PRgay;
it’s a near-certainty that tens of readers will now
check you out.)
I’m
watching tonight’s finale with the usuals: Xtreem
Aaron, his ex-BF Gary, and our friend Job (rhymes with
“strobe”). The husband-partner-whatever
lugs himself into the living room too and announces,
“I can say it now: I have lost whatever
give-a-shit-ness I had for this show. I no longer
care.”
“I
care,” I whisper earnestly. “I care a
lot.” And just then, neighbor Jill walks in the
front door unannounced, needing the Pyrex dish she
brought over a couple days before. It used to be filled with
a homemade meat pie. Now it contains the memory of
meat pie. She knows I still like Kenley, in spite of
it all -- because I enjoy chaos when it’s safely
contained inside a TV -- and asks, “Who do you want
to win, Dave?”
“Terri,” I say. Everyone in our house agrees
that Terri was the raddest. But the past is past and
it ain’t coming back. We have to pick up the
pieces of our lives and move on. Gary wants snacks. We have
Rice Krispie treats and Cheez-Its. Also beers.
“Don’t eat all my Cheez-Its,” Xtreem
Aaron says to Gary. “That box is part of my
earthquake-readiness kit. How did they even get
opened? Who’s been eating all my
Cheez-Its?”
I’m about
to unpause the TiVo and start the show, and now Job wants a
retraction for something I wrote about him in an earlier
recap. His beef is that, by omission, by stating that
only XA and I were pro-Kenley, that I had painted Job
as a Kenley-hater when in reality he’s actually
Kenley-ambivalent, Kenley-unconcerned. His favorite is
Leanne, and she has been his Cat Power-y choice since
the first episode. There. Record set straight.
Opening caption
on bottom of screen as I finally unpause TiVo: 3 DAYS
UNTIL RUNWAY SHOW
The final three
ladies enter the Bluefly workroom and Tim Gunn hurries in
behind them. Somewhere, off-camera, lurk Jerell, Suede, and
Joe. They showed at Fashion Week too because
Runway hadn’t finished kicking them off
yet by the time the big event rolled around. I wish we
could see where they were the whole time. Did they just
have to set up their work space in the alley outside
somewhere? Did the producers make the guys give the
ladies piggyback rides to different places? Did they
get a worse craft services table? These are questions I
have. No one ever answers them. So many secrets in TV
production.
Tim Gunn tells
them that it’s time to pick models. Leanne goes
straight to the highly desirable subset of
big-buggy-eyed Close Encounters-headed Eastern
European models. For several years now those girls --
Leanne calls them the alien-looking ones -- have been
all over the place. I notice shit like this.
War-haunted faces = hot hot hot. During the casting Korto,
Leanne, and Kenley josh around like old pals, all
playing nice, getting jokey about swiping each
other’s girls. Oh, us. We’re so
fun. Meanwhile, Jerell, Joe, and Suede are down the
block at the check cashing/pay-your-electric-bill-here
place begging random strangers to walk in their
shows.
Then Tim Gunn
comes back to the workroom to get a first look at their
completed collections. He starts with Kenley, who has,
against reason, decided not to remove those black
ropes from anything she affixed them to on the
previous episode. Tim tells her that the ropes are not
“organic” and that they
“strangle” the pieces. And then? Kenley says,
“I have to disagree with that. I’m
sorry.”
Whoa!
Someone’s been going to finishing school in her
months away from the show, maybe even the one Mary J.
Blige went to. Tim responds courteously in return and
backs off. “Well,” says Gary, “What you
didn’t see was her giving him the double bird
when his back was turned. And then she called him a
faggot.”
But we get back a
little of Old Kenley when he asks her if she’s going
to send the Alexander McQueen-y wedding dress down the
runway with the same model wearing it, reinviting the
judges to dislike it for its similarity (read:
near-exact copy) of the earlier, more famous dress. Kenley
adopts her buffalo stance and tells Tim Gunn that
she’s not going to let the judges boss her
around and that they tell her that her pieces look
knocked-off frequently and that “I’m sick of
it. It’s insulting.” She fails to get
inside her armored, concrete-reinforced Kenleydozer and
crush the life out of Tim Gunn, but in her mind I think
it’s happening. As Tim Gunn walks away he makes
a “I just got told, but by a crazy young woman,
so it kind of doesn’t count, yet watch me as I back
away slowly all the same” kind of face.
That’s a shot I need to look at a few times.
Finally, though,
Kenley concedes that Tim Gunn might have a point and
makes the decision to take her lead model Topacio (I think
that’s how you spell her name) out of the
wedding dress so that…what? The dress suddenly
becomes magically different? I’m not sure what the
logic is here. But whatever. I’ve paused the
TiVo because Job’s telling us all about the
time he unsuccessfully burgled a post office once when he
was 18. Totally got arrested for it. It’s
exciting to have actual crime-makers in my home. Then
he says, “There’s something Kermit-y about Tim
Gunn,” which leads to a discussion of how it
would be awesome to see Tim Gunn singing
“Rainbow Connection” in a No on Prop. 8 ad.
For you non-Californians, Prop. 8 is the asshole
christian-right constitutional amendment that would
ban marriage for people of the same sex. You know they think
that if it doesn’t pass then the next thing
would be frogs marrying pigs. KILLDOZE!
Click here to follow The Advocate on Twitter.
Page 1 of 3
Dave White is the
author of Exile in Guyville. Find him at www.imdavewhite.com. Guest
commenter Elyse Sewell blogs at http://elysesewell.livejournal.com.