Are you ready?! Ready for the fighting? Ready for Heidi Klum's Baltimore second-grader's accent? Ready for product placement rivaled only by Josie and the Pussycats? Well, if so, that means you are ready for Project Runway: Home of All Things . We were ready, too. So ready, in fact, that while packing, we forgot to include our Dramamine. We had to go back and get it and ran into traffic and spilled some coffee on our lap and stopped to file a lawsuit (Jesus, who needs coffee that hot?) and were late and...missed the boat. But, I'm here to correct that egregious mistake. Let's get started.
We begin with a series of fast cuts of Fashion Week in New York. There's a flash of a banner for Olympus, the sponsors of Fashion Week. The dulcet tones of one Mrs. Heidi Klum Seal, fresh off of her stint on Spin City, tell us that we are looking at Fashion Week in New York City, and that success here requires more than talent: it requires "connections, clout, and cash...until now." We see Heidi's face for a moment (while she is saying "until now"), and then the title sequence tells us we are watching Project Runway. An oddity I notice about this beginning segment is that it is...true. First of all, most reality TV show contests are really about the contestants' need for fame, which will be facilitated by exposure on the show; the contest is usually a formality. While that can be entertaining, you are usually disappointed if you are looking for an actual competition based on something other than whose antagonizing skills are greatest. Secondly, what Heidi Klum said is totally true. Think about it: a great fashion designer's entire creative life can exist solely in his or her head. It takes opportunity to literalize that creativity. Not to cast aspersions on anyone's talent, but think about some of the currently hot new (or new-ish) designers. Do you think Zac Posen was successful at, I don't know, eleven years old, because he was the only person who could do what he did? Or, do you think, maybe, there was a little cash, clout, and connectivity involved? Maybe creativity runs in the family, but -- Stella McCartney? Maybe Daddy's 3 "C"s helped a little. I'm just saying that this contest not only seems authentic -- it's practically necessary.
Heidi takes us through the preliminary interviews for the show. In Los Angeles, the auditions were at the Downtown Standard Hotel. They show a girl announcing that if she were given the right fabrics, she could "kick ass." A judge tells one guy that he reminds her of Todd Oldham. In the out-of-the-fashion-business-now-designing-for-La-Z Boy-way? No, I think she means his look. He flashes a smile to which the producers add a cartoonish twinkle. He actually looks like k.d. lang.
At the Renaissance Chicago Hotel (in, yes, Chicago), there is a different set of judges. A Heather Matarazzo lookalike emphatically tells the judges that she is a struggling artist -- the underdog -- who needs a chance. I love how she knows how to encapsulate her entire existence for the three judges. We see a judge ask a hip-ish young guy if he has sold any of his work, and he replies, with crazy eyes, "Yeah, I been sellin' stuff. I sell it out of my trunk."
In New York, they hold the interviews at the Soho Grand. A mixture of old and newer judges is there. One hysterical little guy wearing his own creation, which appears to be a derivative of Cremaster imagery, is asked, "Who besides yourself do you see wearing this?" The guy answers with a smile and a shrug, "Björk." Ripping off her baby daddy ain't gonna make that happen. The judges tell one foppish guy that they would like to see what he can do. "You won't be sorry," he informs them.
The final leg of the search takes place at the Fontainebleau Hilton during a rare hurricane-free day in Miami. We see a matronly woman with one of those silver hairstreaks being told that she is a finalist. She starts cry-laughing. Outside of the audition room, we see her on her cell phone telling someone, "I made it! I made it!"
We see a room with all of the judges, plus Heidi. They are reviewing the contestants' work. I'm guessing that when they told the cry-laugher that she was a finalist, it meant that she would have her stuff reviewed by all of the judges. Michael Kors looks at one piece and says, "Slinky, slinky." It's fun for a girl and a boy. Heidi tells us that the finalists were narrowed to the twelve best. We see quick shots of the finalists, all of whom are sitting with several ominous mannequins in the background. The cry-laugher is included among them, as well as the foppish guy who won't make the judges sorry.
Heidi tells us that, each week, the designers will be given a different challenge to test their abilities. She says "abilities" like my four-year-old nephew does. While she is over-voicing, they show clips from what I assume is the entire season; there's lots of stitching and a little screaming.
"Top names" in the fashion industry will be judging the results of each of the challenges. We see Nina Garcia, the fashion director at Elle, tell someone that his or her work looks "unfinished." We see Michael Kors, who could use a break from the sun or his bronzer or mud -- whatever it is he is putting on his face. He tells someone, "I look at the fur, and right away, I'm like...I'm in Prada Land." He says this with a sour look on his face, but you know he'd love a fashion amusement park.
Each week, the loser of the challenge will be eliminated from the show. The three remaining designers will present their collections at Olympus Fashion Week. Okay, I'd already be annoyed with the product placement if Heidi hadn't said the thing about cash being so important. It's a necessary evil -- not only for the TV show, but also for the designer to get his or her start.
One winner will be chosen from the three presented collections. The winner will receive a fashion spread in Elle, a mentorship with Banana Republic, and $100,000 to start his or her own fashion line. That's hardcore. I'm a little unclear on what the "mentorship" might include, but maybe they'll clear that up later. Starting credits roll. They mention Olympus Fashion Week again. Two and a half minutes -- three mentions. Okay, folks, let's ration.
After the credits, we see Mario Cadenas arriving at LaGuardia Airport. He's twenty-three years old and from Miami. "I never compromise my art," he tells us. It's a good thing he is whoring his uncompromised art on a subsidiary of NBC. They never compromise art. Just witness Joey for confirmation. We see a sketch of one of his creations. It's a Cruella DeVil-style evening gown. An odd touch to the sketch is the long mane of red hair covering a good third of the neckline of the gown. Wait, this is a paper doll! There are tabs and the face is cut out. Does Mario make paper dolls? They then show another gown on an actual person. It's a black halter-style gown with slits up both thighs. The girl wearing it in the picture is impossibly thin, and the gown kind of hangs off her, so I can't really tell what the silhouette is supposed to be. As well, she's standing in a thatched hut and has flowers in her hair and I'm confused by the art direction. Not a good first impression.
up is Nora Calguri, a twenty-one-year-old Pratt graduate from Cheshire, Connecticut. Now she looks like Todd Oldham. Cute as a button. She won "best collection" two years in a row at Pratt. The photos of her work are super-modern. Like her, her designs are sort of androgynous, with shrouds and pod-like garments. I'll bet she is very influenced by Japanese culture. That's just a guess, though. Some of it reminds me of the Prada Sport stuff from like four years ago. Or, Yohji Yamamoto. Anyway, it's pretty awesome that she won that award twice.
The foppish guy from the auditions gets out of a taxi. His name is Austin Scarlett, he's twenty-three, and he is from New York. ["Let me just say for the record: I LOVE AUSTIN." -- Wing Chun] Austin's dressed sort of like a cross between Quentin Crisp and Julie Andrews. He's a walking billboard for MAC cosmetics, too: he is fully slathered in makeup. To each his own, but...damn, that's a lot of makeup. Austin announces via voice-over that he has always loved fashion. Photos of his creations appear. They are remarkable. He clearly loves romance and glamour. The gowns have a kind of French burlesque look to them -- lots of frill and corseting. They're pretty hot. Austin tells us he tried to be normal in high school. Poor guy. to Austin Scarlett, I'm an All-State tennis player, first seed. Not that I'm bitter or anything.
We see Austin meeting Nora and a really tanned guy named Robert, and then there is uncomfortableness as they stand around waiting for someone to tell them where to go.
Everyone is arriving in taxis.
A large guy is getting his stuff out of a car. We hear via voice-over that he "worked in" porn, a website. It's Jay McCarroll, twenty-nine, from Dallas, Pennsylvania. He explains that the work paid well, but that, when he looked around his life, everything was bought with "dirty money." At this point, I'm overcome with an assortment of disturbing images. Must...have...oxygen. Some of Jay's designs are shown. They are great -- form-fitting with really sexy, textural touches. Seriously, they're fucking good. Jay tells how his porn boss inspired him to quit. Sure, it was inspiration by way of ridicule, but it worked. He mentions how the other "mutherbleepers" who arrived with him let him unload their luggage from the car. Jay is gonna be fun. ["Austin is #1 in my heart, like I said, but Jay is a very close #2." -- Wing Chun]
Everyone is standing on the curb at the Atlas building when Heidi arrives. She welcomes everyone, informing them that they were chosen out of "hundreds" of applicants. Doesn't sound like such a feat when you put it that way. "Hundreds"? She gives them the keys and tells them that they will be meeting her later at Parsons School of Design.
The contestants go upstairs and ooh-an-ah over the place.
We are introduced to Alexandra Vidal, who is twenty-two and from Miami. She has kind of a Shakira vibe. The photos of her work are not that impressive; there's not a coherent thread uniting them. A couple of them have bodices and short skirts and one of them looks like it could have been lifted from the costumes from the "Father Figure" video. It has a short skirt as well, so maybe that's her thing -- short skirts. Dear Alexandra: Get a new thing. ["Well...Miami." -- Wing Chun] She tells us that people underestimate how smart she is. I'd like for her to know that people who talk about how smart they are underestimate how much respect for them is lost when they say that. Overall, she seems really cute, but maybe a little dim. I reserve the right to change that opinion.
we meet Kara Saun, who is thirty-seven, from Los Angeles, and winner of the best name contest. She's a costume designer. They show a couple of photos of people wearing her work, but they are odd choices. In one, all you see is a feather boa and a woman's head. In the other, I think it's Eddie Griffin from Deuce Bigolo: Male Gigolo wearing a suit with no shirt. For real. Leave those off of your résumé, Kara. Then, they show a couple of sketches of her gowns. They look lovely. She says that she designed for Queen Latifah. Kara says in an interview (in front of a couple of mannequins) that designing her own line has always been a dream of hers. The mannequins are freaking me out. From interview to interview, they move. It seems like they are sneaking up on the designers. By Episode 4, they're gonna kill somebody.
Starr is twenty-seven and from Charlotte, North Carolina. Apparently, she doesn't want anyone to know her last name. Maybe it is because she is a lawyer in a "prominent" law firm and doesn't want to risk future employment in case she doesn't win. Maybe she plans on getting crazy. She doesn't seem very crazy, though, and neither do her designs. She is wearing them in several photos. They are kind of cute -- jumpers and dresses with kind of an electrified 1940s look. Navy influences and full skirts. They actually look more like costumes than Kara Saun's work does. Starr tells us that she is, in fact, worried about what she has to lose in terms of her job at home. The mannequins don't seem to care much about her. Too skinny.
Vanessa Riley is thirty-four, British, and living in Houston. She complains about being the fattest girl in the group. She is. As well, she looks older than Kara Saun. (The mannequins are inches away from her.) She has been working at creating a line for ten years. We see that she has a boutique in Houston with "Vanessa Riley LONDON" on the door. Then, in voice-over, she tells us that the company in based in Houston. During the voice-over, we see a video of a fashion show of her work. On the stage is a banner that reads, "Vanessa Riley LONDON." So, what is it, Vanessa? London or Houston? Granted, a lot of Americans have an innate respect for all things British (i.e. actors, writers, etc.), so it may just be smart marketing. It seems snobby though. You're from Houston, Vanessa Riley. Deal.
Here's the cry-laugher. She is in the apartment, looking at a pile of building blocks. "I could have brought my daughter," she says to herself. Nora kind of looks at her like she is an alien as she says this. Cry-Laugher's name is Wendy Pepper. She is thirty-nine, from Middleburg, Virginia, and a close second in the best name game. She tells us that she is married with a five-year-old daughter. She has a small dress shop in Virginia, so this is an opportunity to access areas of the fashion industry that otherwise would be closed to her. Her dresses are pretty, but kind of boring. They look like the dresses that Southern state senators or state senators' wives have made for Mardi Gras balls. That's not necessarily a bad thing, but...I can't even finish that sentence. They're just kind of boring. (The mannequins even look bored.)
Wendy is in the kitchen with Nora, Austin, and Robert the Tan Guy. She explains that, as a mother, she knows kitchens. Tell that to my mom, Wendy. (Actually, my mom is an amazing cook, but not every mom is.) Wendy adds that if they don't eat well, they won't produce their best work. She suggests that they look out for each other: "You can't care about eleven other people, but you can care about three." Damn! Bitch works fast! This program has been on for all of seven minutes and already we are getting a blasted alliance. If you want to win, Wendy, why not try designing some dresses that don't look like rejects from the Jessica McClintock collection?
Robert says he likes Wendy because she treats him like a child. I like a man who can admit that. The mannequins are hot for him. We officially meet Robert Plotkin, who is twenty-eight and from New York City. He became interested in fashion because his mother owned a hair salon. I'm guessing there was a tanning bed there too, because dude is dark. His designs are...hard to explain. Form-fitting. A little Latin flavor. Robert explains that racecars are his inspiration. Women and racecars are alike because they are "both sleek, sexy, and extremely dangerous." He has repeated this phrase seven hundred times. It's his mantra. You can tell. It's working, though. I don't see it in the clothes, but...well, Robert's pretty cute, so let's all just live with it for a while.
In another apartment, a couple of guys enter (including the k.d. lang lookalike). We meet Kevin Johnn, who is forty-four, from New York City, and remarkably preserved for a forty-four-year-old man. He has been designing for twelve years. It is a family business, and his parents didn't want him to join it. "From you, okay? I learned it by watching you!" His designs are quite modern. It looks like he has a few Helmut Lang influences, with buckles and sexy fabrics. Not my cup of tea, but it looks pretty professional. He says with a really cute, boyish smile that he wants to be a "great American designer."
The guys discuss who is a smoker. Mario and Jay -- yes. Kevin and k.d. -- no. Jay announces, "Fashion designers smoke. Didn't you get the newsletter?" I'm a sucker for any "newsletter" jokes, so this makes me laugh. Especially since k.d. is wearing his sunglasses and I'm annoyed and enjoy seeing him reprimanded, however good-naturedly.
Now, we get to meet boy k.d.. Or rather, more boy k.d. His name is Daniel Franco and he is twenty-eight and from Los Angeles. I hate him on sight. He is ready to show the "world" what he can offer. He launched a collection in 1999 that was his first and only collection to date. His father then became ill and he has been taking care of him and his business, which is an L.A. wedding chapel. Okay, that makes him a little endearing. Now, his father is well and he is ready to jump back on the proverbial fashion horse. I hope his designs have evolved, because the '99 collection looks to have consisted mainly of embroidered suit jackets and matching skirts and business-to-dinner tops. On a small chalkboard in the apartment, he writes the bromide "Follow your bliss..." He says, pointing at the chalkboard, "Secret of life." Jesus, Daniel. You're making this hard. Jay walks away from this. The mannequins mock Daniel.
At Parsons, Heidi is waiting for everyone outside. She introduces us to Tim Gunn, Fashion Director of the Parsons School of Design. Tim seems genial. He welcomes everyone.
Inside, Heidi introduces us to the Banana Republic accessories wall and the Cotton wall of...cotton. Cotton is the official fabric of Project Runway.
, the contestants go to the runway, to hear about their first challenge: it is innovation. They will be required to design a dress for a night "out on the town." Sounds straightforward enough. Tim Gunn will take them to a store to find the materials they will need. It's a place where "all the designers go."
The girls who will be modeling the clothes walk down the runway. There is one girl for each designer. Heidi calls out names randomly, and the designers choose from the girls who remain. When Daniel picks his model, he does this weird Donald Trump "You're hired" thing. It doesn't work. Normally, I'd feel bad for the last person chosen in a situation like this, but I feel that this is actually poetic justice. None of those girls has ever been picked last for anything in her life. Now, they can feel like us normals. Sorry, Audrey!
Later, the models and designers have a rooftop party, thrown by Heidi. There's plenty of champagne flowing. Jay tells a model that he can't wait until the "bitch moments start coming out." Well said, Jay. The models demonstrate their walk on the rooftop. It reminds me of granola boys playing guitar at college parties. I think it's a rule: when drunk, perform. I'm not sure, but I think Vanessa flipped the bird at the camera. Anyway, all of the models look amazing.
During the party, Mario is taking his model's measurements. He felt that socializing would have been distracting. Dude. Chill. Socializing is distracting when you are defusing a bomb, not at a party. At a party, taking measurements is considered distracting. Jay remarks that Daniel is not social.
Finally, Heidi leads a final walk across the rooftop. Normally, I would hate something so seemingly contrived and actually cheesy, but I can't really help myself. It's kind of fabulous. Except, Heidi looks like Mrs. Garrett to all of those pre-teen girls. Party on. Commercial Break.
In the morning, everyone meets Tim. He takes them to Gristedes, a New York grocery store. Everyone is stunned because they thought they would be going to a great fabric store or the like. For readers who have never been to a New York grocery store, let me tell you, the contestants' fate is worse than simply not being at a fabric store. New York grocery stores are like death-match wrestling and pig farming all rolled into one stinky, humanity-doubting nightmare. Tim explains that they each need to create a glamorous dress for evening, using items from Gristedes. They have $50 and one hour to shop.
Wendy Pepper doesn't know what to do. My suggestion would be to lower her dosage of lithium. Bitch is lethargic! Everyone else is running around like a chicken with its head cut off. If it's anything like the Key Food near my apartment, they'll probably run into a few actual headless chickens. Running. And the clerks are all really rude, too. Sorry to rant, but New York grocery stores really are like the fifth level of hell.
Vanessa tries to rule out "obvious" items, like melons. It looks like most people are focusing on the housewares and paper sections. With fifty minutes remaining...let me rephrase: after only ten minutes, Mario is done. He buys four shower curtains and Q-tips. The clerk asks him, "What are you using the Q-tips for?" and -- wait a second! I never get any small talk from the clerk! Bitches. He says that the Q-tips are for him, since he forgot to bring any with him. That's pretty funny. "I believe that all of these materials have their own beautiful, spiritual quality," says Daniel, thus sealing the envelope of my disdain for him. How fucking retarded! Go back to L.A., you idiot. Kara Saun buys all of the ribbon in the place. We're talking twenty-three rolls of ribbon. Sounds a little like she didn't want anyone else to have any ribbon. She also buys four feather dusters and a painting kit. Then, you hear Starr sadly asking some guy if the store has any ribbon. Starr seems timid for a lawyer. Austin buys twenty-eight ears of corn, revealing to those of us who didn't know or had forgotten that cornhusks are "nature's fabric." That's awesome. He demonstrates that it is a fiber with weft and warp. I'm sold. And, so far, he is really the only one who is designing with the actual spirit of the challenge in mind. It seems that everyone is looking for items that most closely resemble conventional fabrics, as opposed to looking for greater purpose in a whole other thing. They're supposed to innovate, not replicate. Nora gets a lounge chair and eight placemats. The color of the lounge chair is an electric blue that is really pretty. Starr gets an ironing board cover, bubble gum, and wrapping paper. Tim calls over the intercom, "Project Runway, you have five minutes." We overhear Jay running and laughing and saying, "Attention, Runway Shoppers!" He ends up purchasing six rolls of aluminum foil, a bag of jacks (I guess the toy kind), and three roasting pans. Daniel buys butcher paper, aluminum foil, and trash bags. We hear him say that he is a "serious designer" and that this challenge will be "no sweat." Argh.
At the Project Runway Workshop, Tim tells all of the designers that they will have until midnight, and a few more hours the day, to work. Of course, everyone looks like they've just been raped. Vanessa complains that her fish is getting stinky. Oh, I see, it's because she bought fish at Gristedes. She has a half-pound of crawfish, a laundry bag, and trash bags. Alexandra bought brown pantyhose and brown socks, which seems like a total cop-out. It's like being told to make something for dinner from items at the fabric store and just finding the vending machine in the office in the back. Totally cheating. Seriously, though, she's supposed to be innovative, not resourceful. Robert bought three mop heads, flat bread, food coloring, and a candy alphabet. I'm having trouble placing his accent. Wendy bought green pepper, rope candy, breath mints, and trinkets. That's what I had for dinner last night.
While the contestants are voicing their concerns about being able to complete their projects successfully, Mario has draped his mannequin with a shower curtain and says he is done. There are ten and one-half hours remaining...let me rephrase: Mario took, like, thirty minutes to make his dress. Kevin tells him that he should keep on working, since he has the time. Kara Saun says in an interview that Mario is a nonchalant rebel. She mentions that, while everyone was working, Mario lounged: "That's his style." He actually looks like he was having a great time. Daniel bitches that Mario is amateurish and says he has no "purpose or style." He punctuates "purpose or style" with his hands, William Shatner-like. Wendy asks, "Is Mario smarter than me because he bought a shower curtain and made it in fifteen minutes?" Defensive much, Wendy? ["He might be smart enough to know it's 'smarter than I.' But I doubt it." -- Wing Chun] We see more shots of Marion gallivanting. Again, it looks like he is having so much fun. Sure, he is exhibiting a great deal of hubris and should put his mind to work. My first impression of him is changed, though. I like him.
Now we get to talk about Daniel. I've been craving this, constantly. Jay says that his approach is like Bob Barker, and that he is very cheesy: "It makes me want to leave the room." We see Jay and Mario smoking outside, and Jay mentions that everyone seems very cutthroat.
In an interview, Austin -- wearing what appears to be a circa 1988 Laura Ashley couch's upholstery -- says that he is worried about his design. He hates it. But Mario tells him that he will like it better once his workspace is cleared a little. That was really sweet. Austin worries that maybe he has taken on a project that is too big to handle in such a short length of time. Commercials.
After the break, we see Daniel describing his design. He made a long coat out of butcher paper. He likes the butcher paper because it reminds him of "suede or taffeta." Two totally different fabrics. Great, Daniel. He says that he has more style than Starr. Was that necessary? Poor Starr. Her dress looks ridiculous, but it still looks like some of her other work. None of the materials has been transformed, though. It looks like an aluminum paper skirt with a tissue paper bodice. I wouldn't say it doesn't have style, though. Daniel's an asshole. We hear Starr describe her design. "My dress is really gaudy, and I'm feeling like it's pretty disgusting." That breaks my heart. It is hideous, though. The dress. It looks like something from Return to Oz. And not in a good way.
Tim Gunn enters the workshop, and everyone seems glad to see him. ["As they should, because he's awesome." -- Wing Chun] He checks out their pieces, first asking Kara Saun what will be happening with the bustline of her design, because there's nothing there. She informs him that she will be using paint on the model. He seems intrigued. When she tells him that the model doesn't know that her ta-tas will be painted, Tim laughs.
Vanessa's design looks largely unfinished (it's a full-length gown), and Tim reminds her of how much work she has left to do. In an interview, Vanessa says she doesn't want to look "shtyupid" on the runway. I'm afraid it's the model who is going to look stupid. The gown does look really unfinished. Lots of fishnet and trash bag. Can't wait until she adds the crawfish.
Tim remarks that Daniel has made a lot of progress. I think he's just being nice, because it doesn't look good. Daniel says, "I'm imbuing the spirits of Picasso and Marcel Duchamp." Now, Daniel has an accent and I'm not sure if English is his first language. So, I can forgive his misuse of the work "imbue." Otherwise, my question would be, "You're imbuing their spirits with what? The majesty of your stupid manila envelope coat?" No, you're imbuing the coat with the spirit of Picasso and Duchamp, or so you say (but I'll get to that in a second). I wouldn't even care if he wasn't sounding so pretentious; but, anyway -- English probably not his first language, can live with misuse of word. What I can't live with is that his statement is wrong. I can see how maybe Picasso has some influence on the coat, mainly because it's butt-ugly. (I apologize to Picasso lovers who think his work is pretty. I love it too, but it is ugly.) Duchamp, however, is not represented in this dress. Unless, of course, Daniel is trying to weasel out of the fact that he has not successfully transformed that butcher paper in order to make it look like anything but butcher paper, and wants to call it a ready-made. I don't give him that much credit, though. I think he's just trying to attach his work to some successful abstract idea and hoping that will carry his nasty-looking coat to victory. I don't know why I'm getting so wrapped up in this. Anyway, Daniel continues to give Tim Gunn a load of crap about how everyone can be elegant if they just find the purity in the design. Tim is enough of a gentleman to not call Daniel an impostor on the spot. In fact, Tim goes as far as to say in an interview that Daniel has a "seduction" about him. Essentially, Tim politely implies that Daniel is all talk and that, when you look at the work, it's not there. When Tim suggests that the coat looks too much like butcher paper, Daniel's reply is, "It is butcher paper. That can't be helped." What a huckster. Then, he tells Tim that he can't talk anymore. Tim gives him a look of support masking confusion, and walks away. Robert sees this and replays it during his interview. Tim looks stunned.
Tim tells everyone that they have to be out of the workshop at midnight, and the background music is this menacing underwater gong sound.
At midnight, we see a glimpse of everyone's designs. Wendy has a teeny tiny bodice made of candy, but I see no skirt. Nora's looks pretty good. Austin's is beautiful. The cornhusks look kind of like feathers, and he's created a really beautiful woven bodice and a flared skirt out of them. It looks like something you could do with ostrich plumes. "What a night," Austin says as they leave Parsons.
The day, Starr interviews that she doesn't want to go home. Too bad, Starr, because naked-from-the-waist-up Kevin says that though he hasn't seen your piece, everyone is saying you're going home.
Robert says that he is wearing black because today will be like a funeral for someone. "We'll be going home...in a garment bag," he jokes. Robert has a pretty good sense of humor.
At Parsons, Tim tells the designers that they have two hours to fit their models with their dresses. "Make it work!" he demands, with a faux-serious look. Everyone starts dashing around frantically. Tim informs us in an interview that because Austin's dress wasn't refrigerated, it has shrunk: "Instead of corn husk, they are corn chips." It's pretty gross-looking, but the shape is still there, so I think Austin will be okay. It was a great idea; he'd better get some credit for that.
After a half-hour of the fitting period, Kara Saun explains that her model hasn't arrived yet. It's a problem, because, remember, she will be painting her model's mosquito bites. Mario tells Kara Saun just to go to the street and find a model. That seems like really shitty advice to me. ["'Shitty,' yes -- which is why exactly that was a challenge on the extremely shoddy Runway rip-off The Cut last summer." -- Wing Chun] I'd wheel out one of those camera-hungry mannequins first. But, Kara Saun goes to the street. Commercial break.
After the break, we see Kara Saun talk to one girl with a backpack on. The girl seems totally incredulous from the get-go. She must not be American, because it's a rule here that you lose all need for dignity when confronted with a camera crew. Kara Saun drops Heidi's name and tries to lure her to the Project Runway Dungeon. She's not having it. Fucking Canadians.
Finally, Morgan, Kara Saun's model, arrives. Outside, she tells the cameras, "My mom is out of town. She usually wakes me up." Sweet Jesus. Morgan walks into the workshop while on her cell phone, and Tim gives her the beat-down of the century: "Morgan. This is really bad. Really bad. Poor Kara has crashed and burned. She's out on the street, literally looking for another model." It was so shaming and perfect. I love this moment so much. For real, though: bitch is late, blames it on her mom, then walks in on a cell phone while wearing her fucking sunglasses?! I hate that. And then, Wendy goddamn Pepper walks over and starts consoling a now-crying Morgan. She's crying because her agency just dropped her for being...yes, late. How long has your mother been out of town, lady? So, I guess being thin and beautiful and having an easy-ass job aren't enough for you, huh, Morgan? You also need your own personal fucking time continuum? You could have fucked over some girl's career! I can't believe she's crying right now. And, I really hate Wendy for consoling her. Sorry, I'm just a stickler for punctuality. Kara arrives and does not look pleased. She stops the crying and gets on to business. In an interview, she says, "Morgan. Sweet girl, but tragic." Amen. Kara Saun seems to be back on track.
Daniel says that his dress is not what he envisioned...it's better. Then, we see him doing some stupid dance while fitting his trash bag adorned model. "It is a stupid dance. That can't be helped." No, he doesn't say that. Jay nails Daniel's ass to the wall in a side interview: "He's nice, he has an endearing story, but goddammit he annoys the shit out of me. He keeps playing to the cameras and kissing ass! He should be kissing our asses."
On the runway, Heidi leads the proceedings. She really does sound less European, more Dennis the Menace. This show is the Land of Cartoon Accents. She tells us that eleven of them will be "in," one of them will be..."yowt"? "Oat"? Oh, "out." We meet the designers. Michael Kors, fashion designer. Nina Garcia, fashion director at Elle. The guest judge is Patricia Field. Holla! Fucking love her. I bet she and Michael Kors hate each other. With a flurry of techno music, the show begins.
First is Vanessa's gown. She has taken Tim's advice and shortened it. It looks good. The bodice is made of a fishnet-looking fabric, with strips of garbage bags covering the necessary parts. The skirt of garbage-bag strips is now so high, it's practically an empire waist. Looks pretty good. It appears as though Vanessa, who is sitting along the runway, has taken the remainder of the fishnet cloth (a laundry bag, I believe) and fashioned a small veil for herself.
is Austin's design. Yes, it's shriveled. But the guy innovated. And, on the runway, the color of the husks is quite beautiful. Of course, who can pay attention to the color, when the dress is actually falling apart on the runway. Oh well, good luck, Austin.
is Wendy's candy outfit. It's horrible. There's nothing there. There is less, in fact, than what she seemed to have had earlier. Really, it's like a Life Savers candy on a string and candy buttons on the model's nipples. Poor girl, you thought you were going to be all fancy on TV and then Wendy Pepper put a piece of candy on you and sent you out naked. In voice-over, we once again hear that Wendy is desperately hoping to win.
is Starr's dress. It looks as gaudy and disgusting as earlier. In voice-over, Starr says she didn't look at the judges' reactions.
Jay's girl comes out . It's a fitted aluminum dress with a pink shawl. It rocks. I don't know how, with the snugness of the fit, he and the model kept from tearing the aluminum. Jay modestly notes that if the judges even "remotely have an eye for creativity," they won't send him home. Then, his outfit continues to rock as the model removes the shawl. It's just really cool. The dress is strapless. There is even a little fringe at the bottom of it. That's a lot of detail for freaking aluminum. Nina Garcia is a cipher as she looks on coldly.
Robert's design is . He used mop heads for a really short skirt and flat bread for a corset with a boned look. The model's midriff is bare. I know that people say this about designers all of the time, but Robert really seems to love women and their shape. His design is all about making the model look hot. The model still has curlers in her hair. For me, it looks like they are saying she's so hot, she doesn't even have to finish her hair. Fine.
Stupid Morgan comes out , and Kara Saun notes that Morgan is a terrific walker, which makes up for her lateness and tragic qualities. You're too forgiving, Kara Saun. Her design is awesome. Her painting of Morgan is really intricate and beautiful.
For Kevin's design, he created a short dress from a shower curtain. The interest of the dress is a bunching of shower curtain at the front of the neck. It resembles a cross between an overgrown corsage and an explosion. It's not great, but it seems original. Kevin looks on nervously from the sidelines.
Nora's dress is hot. The lounge chair creates a very hourglass-y sort of silhouette. It's cool. In voice-over, Nora says that she really wants to impress the judges with her concept.
Up is Daniel's design. It's really ugly. Daniel blows some more hot air up his own ass in the interview, saying he knows what Michael Kors and Nina Garcia want.
Alexandra's dress is , and resembles a dress made out of nylon, which is exactly what it is. Way to innovate.
Mario's dress is pretty, yet simple (a long gown made of wrapped shower curtains). Mario says again, in a voice-over, that he doesn't compromise his art. You don't compromise by using imagination? Your art is really boring, then.
The fashion show is over, and Heidi calls all of the designers onto the stage. Scores have been tallied. She calls the names of Kevin, Alexandra, Mario, Jay, Kara, and Robert. They step forward. Jay says, in a voice-over, that he is standing in the group with the person he thought would be eliminated. He's nervous. He's also, in the interview, wearing a white mink stole and Bjork hair buns. This must be noted. And loved, kind of. None of them is out. They leave the runway.
The people remaining had the highest and the lowest score. The person with the highest score will be immune from elimination week. The person with the lowest score will be..."yacht"? Huh? Oh. Commercials.
The models return and stand beside the remaining designers, while wearing their designs. Patricia Field asks Austin whether he boiled the cornhusks. He did not. She notes that they dried out, to which Austin responds with a wordless opened mouth. I feel ya, buddy. Nina tells Wendy, "I wish that I had seen more clothes." On to Vanessa, who says that her inspiration was Cajun. She had planned on putting the crawfish (which she calls "mini-lobsters") along the bodice, like they were caught in the netting. You can actually see that influence pretty clearly. She decided that the crawfish were unnecessary. Michael Kors says that, though both Vanessa and he are wearing black, he would have preferred to see more color in her design -- including the crawfish. I hope that is advice and not a judgment, because it is not fair to judge something for what it's not, rather than what it is. Heidi asks Mario to remove his model's jacket. He then goes on about the length of time he spent working on the jacket. No one looks impressed, though Patricia Field does seem a bit embarrassed. Michael Kors tells Nora that he loves her dress. It's innovative and wearable. Heidi asks Starr -- poor, sad-mouthed, orphan-looking Starr -- to explain her design. Really, she looks pitiful up there. She doesn't do much explaining, except to say that she likes the materials she used. Nina says she doesn't know how wearable the dress is. Then, all of the designers leave the stage while the judges deliberate.
Backstage, Starr is crying. We see the judges talking. They hated Wendy's design. Michael Kors says, of Daniel's piece, "Oh my god, garbage bag couture again?" Patricia Field agrees, "'What's the easiest and most boring thing I can do?'" They weren't wild about Starr's either, so it looks like Vanessa was one of the top three.
The judges bring everyone back. Heidi tells us that fashion is all about what is in and what is "art." Hmmm, that doesn't really...oh, I get it. (Last time I make that joke. I promise.) Vanessa is "in." Nora is "in." Wendy is "in." Oh, well. The remaining three are sweating; except Daniel, who is sure he will win. Accompanied by a light-through-the-clouds depression medication background score, Heidi announces that the winner of the challenge is Austin. He's thrilled. He endearingly says in an interview that winning the challenge was one of the happiest moments of his life.
It's down to Daniel and Starr. Stop happy strummy music, cue death tones. Starr is already tearing up. Daniel is told that his choice of materials was unchallenging. Starr is told that she wasn't innovative with concept. However, she's still "in." A cartoon "D'oh" sound accompanies Daniel's realization that he was just eliminated. Heidi shakes his hand and sends him on his way. He says in an interview that he is shocked. No one seems too sad to see him go. In his final interview -- I have to transcribe it for you, it's too perfect -- Daniel says the following: "If you believe in theatrics, then there are a lot of designers [here] for you to choose from. However, you know, if you believe in honor, dignity, integrity...if you believe in artistic credence and if you believe in artistic honesty and if you believe in following your bliss, then I'm Daniel Franco and [hand extended] I'd like to wish you bliss." And, scene.
episode: Wendy and Vanessa argue. Jay did not take the bitch's dye. I love this show.