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.
