This week
they're designing "avant-garde" stuff.
So, in the spirit of making sure that everyone knows
what that really means, rather than the euphemism for
the word "wacky" that it's bound to
come off like on basic cable, I've come up with
some recent fashion stuff that is actually
avant-garde. Cue Chris shouting, "Let's
go!"
1. Yoshikazu Yamagata and
Mafuyu's "My Town in My Home"
collection. It's a bunch of house-shaped
outfits (with neck holes, so they're wearable)
crocheted from wool yarn. Cozy!
2. Dutch designer Silva B.
created a series of leather gloves that feature the
following: bandages, fake warts, moles with thread-hairs
coming out of them, knuckle tattoos, age spots, and extra
birth-defect thumbs.
3. Belgian
designer Peter Bertsch's "half plant, half
human" collection.
I like this kind
of thing. It's got nothing to do with what you put on
and go to work in, but I like it because every time I see
something new like this it startles me a little. And
I'm of the belief that being freaked out in a small
way each day is as good as taking vitamins.
It's also
why -- aside from the lack of Shaolin-level battles going on
in the workroom -- Project Runway will never
fully satisfy my personal needs. Especially this season,
when almost everyone is so damn boring. I mean, I have
my favorites, obviously (Christian, Sweet P, Kit,
Elisa), but no one's gone out of their way to soak the
place in gasoline and light the match yet. So I find myself
watching out of a sense of completist duty. And because I'm
being paid to do it. Which is pretty great if you
think about it. See, now I'm thinking about my next
check and I'm happy again. OK, time to recap.
First of all,
Project Runway, don't think you can just
substitute a shirtless Ricky for a shirtless Kevin and think
that's going to make anyone happy. But here we are,
looking at Ricky's torso. Well, I'm not. I'm
looking at the yuckers stack of hats on his
windowsill. Near the window. A window that could open for
fresh breezes to waft through. An escape hatch through
which they could all commit hat suicide. I have
dreams. Anyway, next week I want shirtless Sweet P. And
Chris. Boobs and moobs. Let's go!
Ricky next sits
in a chair to talk about how he's been nearly
eliminated over the course of many challenges.
"Ask me about any challenge. I've been up
there," he says, delivered in a way that suggests
that each week of placing in the bottom two has been
just as accidental as the wind suddenly blowing out of
the northeast, a burp of the gods, absolutely nothing
to do with his insistence on making the same Downs-y,
borderline inept baby-doll dress over and over.
The challenge is
to create an avant-garde look inspired by the model's
hairstyle. The look doesn't have to be practical or
wearable. All it has to do is look like two planets
crashed into each other in deep space. With a cute
little waist. Tim Gunn lets the magic bag choose the teams.
Kit and Ricky. Sweet P and Rami. Chris and Christian.
Victorya and Jillian. Victorya goes in for the
air-kiss on Jillian's cheek. Isn't that an excellent
Art of War move? Establish dominance with
fake affection. Be the top. Nice skill set there, V.
Sweet P says,
"My mind doesn't go to the avant-garde." Which
is a problem for their team, because based on his
designs so far this season, neither does Rami's. He
sure does love Greek goddesses, though. He can drape that
shit like Chris can pop a Reese's Cup in one bite.
Victorya and
Jillian are vying for the title of most passive-aggressive.
I can't figure out if neither of them wants to be team
leader or if both of them do. They flip a disc of some
sort to decide. It falls to Victorya. Jillian is
"a little bit uncomfortable."
They all shop at
Mood. Nothing much happens there.
Back in the
workroom, Christian is employing his second favorite word,
"feroshe." He says, "If I were a diva,
my name would be Feroshe."
Ha ha ha.
"If."
He and Chris are
making a thing that's going to be a million organza
ruffles with a giant sky-high collar. And because Christian
seems to understand the idea of the avant-garde more
than just about anyone else in the room, having the
extravagant costumer on his team convinces me that
they've won even before the first ruffle.
Happily for me,
this episode contains fighting. Sort of. It mostly
contains bullying. But that's close enough. Rami
turns out to be more of a control queen than Victorya
ever considered being and goes for Sweet P's throat
over and over. It begins with him assigning her the task of
creating a pair of pants for their outfit. He says,
"She reassured me that she can do it."
RE-assured. You just started and you need
RE-assurance?
Later he says, on
interview-cam, "What's slowing me down is
having to constantly answer and attend to Sweet P
because she's struggling with a pair of
pants."
Sweet P responds,
"Look, dude, we wanted to accomplish getting the pant
and the corset sewn. And we finished those. And we've also
draped most of the gown. So I'm not really
comprehending why he's so stressed out when we are
actually ahead of the game."
End of day 1.
Day 2 begins with
more shirtless Ricky. But I complained about that
earlier. No point in rehashing. Sweet P asks herself if she
has enough cigarettes for the day. What she should
really be asking herself is where she can hire a ninja
to come in and deal with what Rami is about to do to
her over the next 14 hours. And it might just be tricky
editing, but we get to hear her talk about suggestions
she has for the outfit, and his response is,
"Let me take over this."
Tim Gunn comes
in. Time for a special announcement. They have to create a
second ready-to-wear garment that "embodies the
essence of the avant-garde look." They get 50
bucks extra budget and 15 minutes to figure it out.
Nice. I like it when Tim comes in and throws a wrench into
everything. They'd planned their two days of work and now
it's all fucked. Completely unfair, of course.
Ha HA! Now, perhaps, there'll be chaos and weeping and
shrieking and blood. American Idol can't do
everything around here.
Christian:
"We'll just do this simple little chic little outfit.
I'm not scared at all."
Cut to the main
entertainment: Sweet P and Rami. She says, "I think
navy."
Three words. An
idea. Nothing crazy. A color suggestion. Rami looks at
her like, "IN MY HOMELAND THE WOMAN DOES NOT SPEAK!
ONLY MAKE THE HUMMUS!" There's fury in
his eyes. He demands to know more about this so-called
"navy" and why this tattooed lady is daring to
think of it out loud. Her response: "I think it
makes it day[wear]."
Rami:
"Navy is not so much day."
That's a
fact. No one wears the avant-garde color of dark blue when
the sun is up. Everybody knows that. Good call, Rami.
So then Sweet P talks some more and Rami fumes and
frets and gets himself into what's building up
to be a full-throttle hissy fit.
Twelve hours left
until the end of day 2. The models come in for a
fitting. We see Christian pulling the cone of ruffles over
the model's head. All we see are arms sticking
out of the top. I think that should be how it's
worn, just arms sticking out. Let one of those beeping
traffic signals lead the model down the runway. Tim
said it didn't have to be wearable. Cut to Christian
giving 1,000% gay runway walk and making everyone
laugh. I ask my husband/partner/whatever if we can adopt him
since we're both allergic to actual pets. It'd
be like having one of those hypoallergenic cats. And
he already said that he sleeps on the floor. We have a
floor. It'd be perfect. Oh, wait, you know what? I
bet he smokes more than Sweet P. I just changed my
mind.
Back to Rami and
Sweet P. He just yammers directions all over her and
won't let her even respond to the barked orders.
"That's it," he says, and walks
away. And she's crying. Now, on the one hand, at
least it's not Ricky. But on the other hand,
it's Sweet P. Who could be mean to Sweet P and
sleep at night? It's like kicking your favorite aunt
in the tits with a steel-toed boot. Sweet P's
model hugs her and strokes her back. What a nice
model. You're a dick, Rami.
Tim Gunn comes
back to the workroom and brings along Nathanial Hawkins,
lead stylist with Tresemme. Nathanial is here to waste
everyone's time talking about hair. Montage of this
dude waving his hands around model's heads. Why
are we watching this when there's
pret-a-porter and fighting left to be
accomplished?
Four hours left
until the end of the day. Time for Tim Gunn's
consultation. Tim Gunn loves Chris and Christian's
rufflesplosion. Hates the ready-to-wear version.
Christian doesn't care what Tim Gunn thinks. Tim Gunn
hates Kit and Ricky's weird patchwork hoop-skirt
thing. "We're very excited," says Kit.
Tim Gunn's response: "All right." Then he
calls it "costumey." Kit says,
"But it's conceptual." Then Ricky
begins grasping at straws for ways to "punch it
up." But you can tell from looking at it that
no amount of pink failure-ribbon is going to "punch
up" something that should have never left the sketch
pad. Tim Gunn asks Rami if the outfit will
"surprise them, or is this going to be what they
expect."
Rami: "You
don't think it's over-the-top enough, is what you're
saying."
No, Rami.
That's not what he's saying. He's
saying that you do the same fucking thing week in and
week out. You're the competent Ricky. And this week
you've just added some more frills to what you always do
when you haven't been busy pulling Sweet P. around by
her hair. And another thing,
"over-the-top" is not the same as
"avant-garde." Cher, drag queens,
Sylvester Stallone entering an arm-wrestling competition
-- those are things that are over the top. None
of them, however, count as avant-garde.
Elimination Day:
Hair hair hair.
Makeup makeup makeup. Fitting fitting fitting. Then Tim
Gunn comes in and leads them down to the runway. This
week's guest judge is Alberta Ferretti. Never
heard of her? She's old-school.
The outfits go
like this...
Rami and Sweet P
-- The avant-garde look is half a corset, half a drapey
Rami thing we've seen before. Over PANTS. Seriously.
Like what Carrie Underwood might wear. Just lame. On
the other hand, the ready-to-wear mini-dress with a
sort of odd gun-holstery-looking thing on top of the
boobs that Sweet P made looks more progressive than Rami's
concoction. Ha HA!
Chris and
Christian -- Big win here. A column of ruffles that reaches
for Jupiter. The crazy collar even approximates
Christian's tilty hairstyle. Nina is smiling to
herself. You make Nina smile and you might as well put
the crown on your head right now and begin decreeing new
laws.
Kit and Ricky --
Scarlett O'Hara gown that's "pooing
fabric." I really like Kit and wonder what went
wrong with the dresses. I mean besides that someone
actually thought of them and made them. And besides Ricky.
Victorya and
Jillian -- Really beautiful black long coat with a red
tartan interior and a long black train. That it steals
everything it knows from Alexander McQueen and Olivier
Theyskens is not exactly the point. It just looks
forbidding and severe, the kind of thing I hope they
buried Maila Nurmi in.
Lowest scores =
Rami/Sweet P, Kit/Ricky
Highest scores
=Victorya/Jillian, Chris/Christian
Everyone gets a
turn taking credit or defending their shitty decisions.
The Rami and Sweet P boxing match continues as they explain
how they didn't get along. Can Heidi give Rami a good
Germanic scolding? Please? He deserves one, and I
deserve to witness it.
Alberta Ferretti
calls Kit and Ricky's dress "not avant-garde.
It's cheap...the realization is
terrible." Now, just imagine all that spoken
with a thick Italian accent, and that's Alberta
Ferretti. Heidi wants to steam the wrinkles out of it.
That's it? No Rami smackdown and no
excoriating the ugly Kit/Ricky dress? Is she feeling
under the weather? Problems at home with Seal distracting
her? Someone needs to run that dress over with a Saturn.
Winners -- Chris
and Christian. As they run off the stage and we see them
behind the scrim, Chris does this insane little
"I'm flying" dance.
Losers -- Kit and
Ricky. And it's Kit who goes home because
she's team leader. Fuckin' Ricky.