Thursday, August 17, 2006

What Garbage!



Ooooooh, I do so love these kinds of challenges--you know, where the designers have to make a dress out of Q-Tips, pencil shavings, Band-Aids, and a pile of banana peels or whatever. This week, the contestants had to make an outfit out of recycled materials--plastic, paper, and metal--from New Jersey! Ewwww, so unfashiony! Each mile they got further away from Manhattan, Laura began melting, meeeeellllllting, because apparently Newark is to Laura what water is to the Wicked Witch of The West in "The Wizard of Oz."

The designers gathered up all sorts of interesting crapola while wearing hard hats, goggles, coveralls, and gloves. Tim Gunn in his hazardous materials outfit was a delifghtful sight to behold and will be one of my Precious Memories, right up there with seeing my baby nephew Memphis for the first time. Do I see Halloween costumes being hatched in the minds of gays everywhere? I hope so!

Then they were given $25 dollars to buy art supplies like glue and tape, and for Kayne to spend entirely on glitter.

Back at the work studio, Kayne put together a really amazing dress--and by "amazing," I mean "hideous"--with a green metallicy top and giangantic "Gone With The Wind" conical hoop skirt covered with green bottle caps and various doo-dads. I could see what he was going for, and really, it almost maybe might have sort of worked, but in the end Tim had to throw a fit and make him lose the skirt. From
Tim's Take
:
One of the many factors that confounded me was that while at Waste Management, Kayne had obsessed over a huge container of plastic bottles with caps. He removed dozens and dozens of caps with the intention of making a bustier. Fabulous. So where did they end up? On the stupid skirt: randomly placed and embellished with a dollop of green paint (like the paint on the top). I screamed, literally, and told him to lose the skirt. The final outfit used the same top, but the skirt was modified – paper and mylar and knee-length. It was better, but it was still a hot mess. Frankly, it looked like it was going to Pattycake’s birthday party at Angela’s art camp. Oh my. Maybe we should inaugurate a Jubilee Jumbles award?

Oh, Tim! What a genius you are. What a way with words. I would never have thought to inaugurate a Jubilee Jumbles award (in dubious honor to Angela, The Bubble-Skirted Wonder), but now that you've said it, I think it should become a hallowed tradition on "Project Runway." They could do it at the reuniun show, and give out a small trophy wearing a patchwork, quilted top and puff skirt covered in granny circles and Skittles to the designer with the most ridiculously-Angela-like outfit of the season. Kind of like winning "Miss Congeniality" at the Miss America pagaent.

Kayne's final dress:



Later, tempers flared between Kayne and Laura, Our Lady of the Frightening Breast Plate; Laura took it upon herself to question Kayne's "choices" (which is beyotch-speak for "taste"), as if she was genuninely concerned for his future on the show, and Kayne was having none of it. He shot right back that he questioned Laura's character, which he thought was far worse than having no taste, and then said something to the effect that he would not be "berated on television." Good for you, Kayne! I love a take-no-guff gay!

Jeffrey, AKA Mr. Hardcore, AKA Mr. Designer to the Rock-n-Rollers Like J.Lo, AKA The Guy With The Tatoo That Draws Needless, Unflattering Attention To His Odd Neck, kept going on camera to complain about how terrible everyone else is--he even had the nerve to dis Michael's winning design from last week--when he, Mr. Hardcore, is so awesome and more deserving of all of life's riches and glories. He really went on and on. Also, lots of eye-rolling from him, although it's hard for me to look at his borderline-Down's-Syndrome-looking face when all I can do is stare, mesmerized, at his hideous neck tattoos.

When the designs hit the runway, it looked like a lot of the contestants used silvery mylar in their outfits. I can understand why--it does look fashiony--but it was kind of repetitive after a while. Uli's desing used it, but she wove it with white paper, and the result was pretty impressive:




Robert finally managed to not be boring, and though it was cute and retro-y, his silver dress didn't thrill me or anything:



Laura did a nice, 1960s-style A-line shift dress with a little black flower on the side; she also pleated the material so that the back read "For Nuts Only." (And she knows from nuts, let me tell you.) I liked it, it was well-made and pretty, but it was also kind of dullsville.



Angela, The Bubble-Skirted Wonder, made a terrible, terrible dress, of course. At least I think it was a dress. It might have been a pair of overalls from outer space. Tim said:
It was all so basic. And it looked like an elementary school craft project for a production of Camelot to boot. But Angela’s still in: Chacun à son goǔt.

I looked it up, and "chacun a son gout" means "Nina Garcia is crazy" in French.



Jeffrey's dress was pretty well-done, I have to admit, albeit it was fairly artsy-fartsy. He painted newspaper and really made it look like fabric. According to Mr. Gunn:
Jeffrey masterfully pleated newspapers to create a stunning top and he continued the material, unpleated, to make the skirt (the newspaper was applied to a muslin infrastructure). He painted the entire look in a somber palette and even painted a trompe l’oiel belt. It was very well-executed, and I admired it for that, but it was not for everyone’s taste. It was an in-your-face kind of look. But with this level of gustiness, I knew his look would receive an “it’s editorial” nod at the very least.

I looked it up, and "it's editorial" is Gunn-ese for "Nina Garcia is crazy."



Michael did a great job--yet again!--with his bustier top, skirt, and clear plastic wrap. Tim was ebullient in his praise:
He used a vinyl-coated burlap peanut sack for his skirt and frayed the seams and hem for more interest. He used the reverse side of some mylar tubing, which was gold in color, to make a little bustier of a top. Over this was a clear plastic organically formed shrug. It was glamorous. It was elegant. It was fabulous.

Huzzahs for Michael! Huzzah! Huzzah!



Alison the pixie wood nymph made a fairly ugly dress out paper, but I thought that a fashion-fowardy-type (say Chloe Sevigny or some other High Priestess of Fug) would probably wear it. It wasn't my bag, as it were, but it was well-made and had a lot of originality and was the kind of thing that the judges might have gone gaga over on this crazy show. She also had the Tresomme hairstylist put a weird Minnie Mouse bow of hair on the model's head, which was ludicrous, but then so was that giant pompadour she did one time, and the judges practically plotzed with joy over that, so what do I know about Fashion Hair? Tim's take:
Her design was an origami and sculptural masterpiece in my opinion. Foolish me, I thought she could win. Neither of us anticipated that the asymmetry of the design would bug the judges.

In the workroom, Tim kept telling Alison that her model, whom he described as "zaftig," would not look good in the dress, and this whole "Alison's model is a fat ass" ended up coming into play in the judging. I honestly had not noticed her model had a weight problem, but now that I look at her closely, I can see that she's a grotesque obese monster who is probably at least a size 2 and thus should be immediately shunned by all of society for her extreme porcinity:



And, finally, crazy ole 401K-casher-inner Vincent made a horrible monstrous tube dress covered with bits of crud that he thought was "artsy." It looked like a schizophrenic's interpretation of that horrible prom dress Molly Ringwald made by ruining Annie Potts' perfectly nice '50s gown in "Pretty in Pink," and for all I know, that's exactly what it was. Maybe Vincent escaped from a mental hospital, where he used to do art therapy while watching John Hughes movies, and he smothered a nurse with a pillow to make his getaway and somehow managed to jabber his way onto a design contest reality show. Whatever the case may be, he once again produced an absolute horror of an outfit that should have caused him not only to be thrown off the show, but back into the padded cell. Tim didn't mince words:
In the end, Vincent is Vincent and there’s no stopping him nor advising him. His look was god-awful in my opinion. And his model could barely walk the runway in his preposterous creation. But I guess Vincent has the last laugh; he’s still in. WHY?




The judges were made up of a still de-puffed Michael Kors, crazy Nina Garcia, and special guest judge Rachel Zoe, the Stylist To The Stars who is solely responsible for the tanorexic skeletons running around Hollywood with giant sunglassses, head scarves, and ginormous handbags.

For some unfathomable reason, Angela was safe. So were Uli and Robert. The best and worst were: Michael, Jeffrey, Vincent, Alison, Kayne, and Laura. It quickly became apparent that the judges lurved Michael, Laura, and Jeffrey, and the rest were on the choppping block.

In the end Michael won again! Two times in a row! Whoo-eeee! Mr. Hardcore Jeffrey could not contain a full-on eye-roll to the heavens on the runway, as he beseeched the Gods of Rock-N-Roll: "When, o when, will these moronic Philistines realize that I am superior to everyone who exists under the sun? When will my hardcore genius finally be understood? Why must I suffer fools when I have designed outfits for such rock-n-rollers as J.Lo?" And then he pouted his way offstage.

Kayne was given a stern lecture, which he took like a man, but thankfully he was safe. Then it was down to crazy ole Vincent and gorgeous pixie nymph Alison. And pretty much only because the judges thought Alison's dress was not only ugly, but made her model look "plus-size" (a description that Heidi whispered in a tone most people reserve for speaking of cancer or leprosy) they chose to keep Vincent and his unbelievably horrific--and poorly-made--design "IN," and Alison was "OUT." People, I am sad to say that fat trumps crazy every single time. ARGH!

Although I am bitter that we still have to watch Vincent go off his meds and babble on about his non-existent 401-K, we should all be comforted by the fact that Alison was sent back to scamper among the butterflies and bunny rabbits in the nearest forest glade, where she will happily sing Bjork tunes in her adorable lisp to the woodland flora and fauna, and where she will surely be discovered by a Hollywood agent and will soon be starring in her own reality show, "The Log Whisperer." Farewell, lil' Pixie!

4 comments:

Anonymous said...

Lest we forget (no matter how hard we desperately try) Vincent repeatedly commenting to anyone who would listen about how he "gets off" on his design work.

And given the horrifying state of that "dress" he sent down the runway, he may very well have!

How do you think he got all the confetti to stick!

Spare E

porkmuffin said...

i was seriously so pissed at Klum-catcher last night. fat=death on this show. fuckers.

i love Mike! but i thought Jeff's outfit was even better, sorry to say. the neck tat is seriously so distracting and ugly.

Dan said...

It's too bad that they don't recycle tires in Jersey, because if they did Vincent would have surely made a stack of five Michelins, glued some delaminated Firestone tread to the outside, called it arty 50 times, and given his model something a lot easier to walk down the runway in.

The most annoying part of this show is how they forgive awfulness if it comes from somebody telegenic in the Jerry Springer sense of the word.

shazza said...

Until last night's show, Alison had never been in the bottom three. I believe Vincent has been in most bottom threes. If Alison had been a more interesting/maniacal character, she would still be making cool modern designs for us every week.

Laura's "For Nuts Only" ended up being a more prophetic statement than just pop art.