We begin our 11th episode with the remaining five bitches and hos in Shanghai. In what I am sure will come as a stunning turn of events for viewers everywhere, Binaca is talking shit to Heather. What were you thinking, when you were in the bottom two? she sweetly asks our favorite mildly-autistic beauty. Miz Shoes was thinking that of all the girls who ever needed a high fashion ass-whupping, it is that relentlessly evil stank ho, Binaca. Chantallobotomy and Jenah both bitch about Heather getting fed her lines and still sucking, and Jenah says that what really sucks is that ANTM has turned into a personality competition, not a modeling competition. And I ask you, is this news? Has she watched the show in seasons past? Someone who has watched is StankHoBinaca, who has been keeping track of the episodes and knows, even before the Tyra Mail is opened, that this is the week for go-sees. She is jumping up and down and squealing “GOSEEGOSEEGOSEEGOSEE!!!!”

Sure enough, the girls are sent to PT Modeling Agency, there to meet Susan Yang, the director. Salacious D is delighted to be going on go-sees, because she says they are the best. Heather thinks that she might have a problem with first impressions. Susan gives the girls their portfolios, their list of instructions, their translators and their drivers and a final admonition to be back by 6 on the dot.

The first whiff of trouble comes when Salacious D says that the drivers drop them off in the area, but not directly in front of their destinations. Binaca is interviewing that she totally has to win this, because she is totally going to be America’s Next Top Model. She is going to win. She has to win. And cut to Heather, wandering around lost…for at least half an hour. Chantallobotomy makes it to her first designer and is handed a sheer white dress. This is nice. She is wearing hot pink and black lace undies, which we and everyone in a five-mile radius can see through the dress. She has forgotten the first rule of go sees, which is to wear nude underwear. The designer is so shocked and appalled that he can barely tell her that she sucks and needs to be wearing nude underwear. She says he was harsh.

We see Binaca, again, and again she is whawhawhaing about going home is not an option. To which I say, fine. Stay in China, and never darken my tv screen again. Chantallobotomy makes it to Flora Zeta’s show room, and is dismissed with the statement that she might be fine for print, but that she cannot walk a runway. The other girls are now on their second and third go sees, and Heather is still wandering around in circles. She is remarkably sangfroid about it, though, unlike last year’s Brittney who would have been shrieking and biting the heads of of small passersby by now. Heather finally wanders in to a show room, and is asked to walk. She does. She is asked to make eye contact. She does not. This is repeated several times. Still, the designer loves her look. Jenah sees the same designer and is told flat out that her walk is awful.

Binaca and Salacious D end up in the same show room at the same time. Binaca was there first, and is just kissing the designer’s ass and throwing down major attitude at Salacious D, who is quietly waiting on the settee. As Binaca leaves, she asks Salacious D where the next designer is located. Salacious D, who has just come from there, smiles brightly and says as how she just has no idea. Binaca heads out and Salacious D snickers that the designer in question is about three floors up from where she is sitting. Binaca finds this out when she goes back to her driver and asks to be taken. The gloves are now officially off, bitches.

Heather is now lost again, to the degree that she has also lost her car and driver. She is terribly worried that she only got to see one designer. Chantallobotomy agrees to try on one more dress, and makes herself late. Binaca is running late, too. Salacious D does not want to be disqualified, and so heads off early to allow for unforeseen circumstances. Jenah is running late, sees Heather wandering around and won’t give her a lift. What a shitty thing to do. Competition or not, leaving someone wandering around lost in a foreign locale (even when that person is accompanied by a film crew) is a shitty, shitty thing to do. Karma’s a bitch baby, but not as big a bitch as Binaca.

In the end, only Binaca and Salacious D make it back to the agency on time. Jenah is 15 minutes late. Chantallobotomy is 20 minutes late. There is much hilarity as the girls discuss Heather, and how they’ve seen her wandering around, lost and without her cab. Ho, ho, ho. Such yocks. Heather, who does finally find her cab, is 40 minutes late. Only Binaca and Salacious D are eligible for the win. They load up onto their bus back to the gilded penthouse, and the other four all tell Heather not to be so hard on herself (that’s their job) and so what if she only saw one designer. Big deal. Bitches. Tonight is their night to go on the town, and I’m sorry that Janice Dickenson isn’t there to show Binaca and Salacious D what a real ball cutter looks like. I’m also sorry that Tiffany isn’t there to pour a beer on a bitch’s weave. Or bare scalp in the case of Binaca. They are dining water-side and taking in the view when Susan Yang comes in to tell them who won. Looking out across the harbor, they see a boat with a huge, illuminated billboard advertising the 2008 Beijing Olympics. There, in all her big mouthed, toothy glory(?) is Binaca. She is happy. Miz Shoes is not. Binaca won, says Susan because although she was stiff and nervous, her pictures were good. Salacious D had the personality, but all her pictures looked alike. I’m thinking that if there had been more than two choices, neither of these two would have won.

Speaking of if there had been another choice, Jaslene comes on to talk about “my life” (note: that’s just My Life, and there is no As A Covergirl). She says what I think is that it is a tradition for the ANTM winner to throw out the first pitch at an Orioles game. Now this is just totally confusing to me. Jaslene is from Chicago. Noxema, who was the first girl to chuck out a baseball, as I recall, was from Detroit. The show is filmed in L.A. So how does Baltimore get the tradition and/or questionable “honor”? Jaslene, despite looking like a tranny, throws like a girl and gets the ball straight up in the air, and no where near home plate. It’s a shining moment. For someone. Somewhere.

Back with the hamsters, there is Tyra Mail. “No lion, it’ll take a lot of pride to get through this challenge.” Ooh, ooh!!! Posing with animals!!! Says one of the dumb blondes. They make it to the location and there is a lot of talk about the noisy bugs. I don’t know why. Except for the sound of the locusts, there is nothing at all to do with bugs. We have a repeat of the silk lion/dragons who announced that we’d be coming to China. And our photographer today is—- NIGEL! WHEE!!! I love Nigel. This is the shot where they have to stand out in a crowd. The example is that wooly-eyebrowed snooze who won in the Bolly-wood shot. What was her name? The one who freaked out over birds? Nicole. Who was from like, Frostbite Falls, Minnesota. Another location with baseball that isn’t Baltimore.

We next see Jenah getting all sarcastic with Nigel. He’s come to talk to her about not being nervous with him because he’s a judge and she just blows him off, fanning herself and saying she’ll try hard not to faint. He makes a snide comment about her sarcarsm. The other hamsters are horrified that Jenah is so rude. Well, it’s no “Is that the stick you pulled out of your ass after the last panel”, but it isn’t good. Out on the set, Nigel tells her that she is a Chinese princess, and that she needs to inspire him and impress Jay. He also tells her that he gets bored easily, so she needs to mix it up with her poses and her angles. Jay says that it just wasn’t in her eyes today. No pop. Unlike Salacious D, who, says Jay, is all confidence.

Backstage, we see Binaca preening over herself and deciding that she isn’t going to smile because it makes her make up wrinkle. I don’t know. I just take notes, people. In front of the camera, Jay tells her to smile, and not look so mean. That, my little orange man, is like asking a skunk not to stink. Chantallobotomy is channeling her inner Carol Channing, and doing big arms, and Diana Ross show girl poses. Jay tells her to stop forcing it. Heather is walking around, psyching herself up. The other girls ridicule her and say she must be thinking about making art with her body. I hate these girls. At least they aren’t all up in her face this time, they are politely out of hearing range. Heather says that she is just going to go with her instincts and intuitions and not think too much. She hits a pose and looks like Uma Thurman in a brunette wig. The other girls are all behind Nigel, watching. And, of course, sniping about how bad Heather is doing. Jenah in particular is jealous of Heather’s outfit and starts showing how she’d be working that shit. Nigel tells her to put a sock in it. Really. Jay says that Heather was second guessing herself, not up to her usual standards.

There is Tyra mail, and once more, Binaca says that she knows she’s good, that she’s not going home and that her shit don’t stink and that she invented modeling. Jenah says that, uh, well, it was a bad week for her and she is nervous. In the judging room, there is barely enough room for both Miss Jay’s afro and Tyra’s ego. They somehow make it work. The guest judge is Susan Yang. First up for individual evals is Chantallobotomy, who, it is duly noted was 20 minutes too late to compete in the challenge and it’s probably for the best, seeing as how the hot pink and black lace underwear was such a glaring faux pas. Tyra and Miss Jay explain how one can rinse one’s step-ins in the hotel sink and still be ready with flesh-colored undies on go-see day. Her Nigel photo wasn’t bad, but every time she got a compliment on set, she’d get giddy and lose it. Lose what? Her composure? Her mind? More on this later.

Binaca was the challenge winner, as two of the three designers would book her. Her Nigel photo is critiqued thusly: body amazing, face awful. Stank in/stank out, I say. She isn’t fluid on the set. She wouldn’t relax and smile. Jenah was 15 minutes too late to compete in the challenge (and nobody brings up how she left Heather wandering around in the street). She has a diverse portfolio and not enough personality. What personality she does have, nobody likes. Be careful with your sense of humor, say Tyra and Nigel. You could offend people. Yeah? Remember Carideemented and the stick? That didn’t seem to hurt her, and I thought that was a hell of a lot ruder than not swooning for Nigel.

Salacious D came in second on the challenge (or last, depending on how one wishes to look at second place out of two). She had a great personality and good pictures. Nigel says she was his favorite to shoot. Miss Jay says that she finally pushed the envelope and looks edgy-ish rather than like a commercial girl who is trying to look edgy with an edgy haircut. She still didn’t win, though. And that leaves Heather, who was 40 minutes late. Her runway walk was seen as a little awkward. Miss Jay asks her to walk for them, right there and she does. Sadly, Miss Jay says that all Heather really needs is a Top Model ass-whooping, but it’s a little too late for that now. Twiggy loves her picture and Susan says that Heather has a great look for China. And off the girls go, to await the decision.

Nigel says that Binaca was his least favorite girl, and Miz Shoes says “Amen and hand to g-d”. Salacious D is on the edge of the steps of high fashion, what ever that means. Chantallobotomy is missing something…like, maybe, a clue. And that, my friends and loyal readers, is why I have been calling her Chantallobotomy since day one. She doesn’t have enough brain cells to rub together to light up a neuron. Jenah is good girl with an awful, know-it-all personality, and Heather has some sort of disconnect. Oh. You think? Isn’t that the Aspberger’s? Still, says Nigel, all she has to do is get in front of the camera and the camera finds the beauty. Everyone, he says, would like her.

And the pictures go to: Salacious D, and in the background we see Binaca just loathing the fact that it isn’t her. There is a forced smile on her face and hatred in her eyes. She gets the second picture and a lecture not to go to sleep this close to the prize. Chantallobotomy is third and told to hold it together. Finally, there are Jenah and Heather, both of whom have the strongest pictures, yet neither can communicate in person. There is some weird, obvious voice over from Tyra, the first time that I’ve ever heard it so clearly. I wonder what she really said… Jenah has a personality that turns off the judges, and yet, she gets the final photo. It is the matter of the go sees. You can’t get the jobs if you can’t get to the casting call. The judges are clearly sad to have to send Heather home, but not as sad as we are out here on the couch.

Heather has the last word, though, and it is classy. “The experience” she says, “was much more than the prize.” I’m sure she’ll do just fine. Unlike a certain bald-headed stank bitch, who we see giving Salacious D a little pay back in the previews for next week.

PROJECT RUNWAY: WEEK TWO

We begin the way all reality shows begin, with the people who remain dissing the person who did not, but in the speaker’s opinion should have, gone home. In the particular, Rami of the Heavenly Arms thinks that Simone le Fang was way better than Elisa. Well, that remains to be seen, doesn’t it? And as quickly as that, we are back on the runway and having our first model selection. Rami, as the winner of last week’s challenge, gets to make the choice to stay with his model (Ashley) or change. He stays. This our second clue that Rami’s judgement is much less developed than his biceps. Chris takes Marcia, Carmen goes too fast, and according to my notes (and why would I actually look this up on-line for accuracy?), the remaining selections go like this: Christian/Lisa; Marion/Charol; Ricky/Blee; Elisa/Vive; Steve/San; Kevin/Amanda; Jillian/Lauren and Sweet P/Katie. You figure that out… I’m too busy trying to remember which designer is which. I can’t be troubled to remember the models, too.

The challenge this week is to create an outfit for a pop culture & fashion icon. Oooooh, who can it be now? Carmen guesses a singer who is also an icon and that would be Madonna. Or Britney, says an anonymous other, who then adds that the poor thing needs some sort of help. Tim comes into the workroom and says “Designers? Gather ‘round.” and introduces (wait for it) Sarah Jessica Parker! Jack and Christopher pretty much swoon. Chris starts crying and says that he moved to New York pretty much because of Sex & The City. To which I say, schnort. And also, who the hell am I to laugh, seeing as it is a known fact that I moved to New York City because of Born to Run? So, bravo to Chris.

The designers are challenged to make a two-piece look for SJP’s clothing line, Bitten. It should go in the fall/winter line and if it’s good enough, will enter into production. Bitten, says SJP, is (supposed to be) high-end American sportswear at an affordable price. That means this look needs to retail for under $40. And that means that the budget at Mood will be $15. To which I say, good fucking luck with that. And to which Chris says, what can we get at Mood for $15 other than toilet paper and scotch tape? The designers are given half an hour to draw. They will then present their sketches to SJP, and she will pick seven designs. The designer will chose a partner, and then they will produce the look. SJP gives everyone a dossier on what is in Bitten’s fall/winter line. Jack jumps on that like a trampoline. Christian goes for a dress and jacket. Ricky goes for the Kleenex box, because he has already started to cry. Oh, for the love of god, man, butch up a little. Maybe if you’d stop with the stupid, wee hats… Jack has some beautiful marker renderings, but we quickly pass over the drawing and thinking and go straight to the presentations.

Chris does a knit turtleneck dress, and my notes say “gush, gush.” They do not say, nor do I remember, if that was SJP gushing over the drawing, or Chris gushing over SJP. I somehow think it was the latter. Elisa delivers up an Angela-worthy blahblahblah about her dress being polymorphic and having a cape with variable flaps. Sweet P thinks that Bitten is lacking in skirts and offers one to beef up the line. Kevin has a “button story”. Kevin, who would like you to know, before we go any farther, that he is straight, is also lacking in social skills. He gets up and bolts off, leaving Sara Jessica Parker sitting there with her hand stuck out in empty air, waiting for a handshake. Oopsies. Gotta work on that, buddy. Christian makes up for it though, by having a “pleating” story and demanding a hug. Kit shows leggings and Ricky has a knit. Jillian does something flirty with a jacket. Victorya shows yet another freaking baby doll dress, and I for one, was tired of that look after seeing her portfolio in episode one. But this one has a vest over it. Quel difference! Marion does a fitted cape, which, I think is some what oxymoronic. Steven, who has that squinty thing going on that made French Stewart so funny on Third Rock From the Sun, even though it never translated to a career, does something in classic black. Rami has a shirt dress and tights and Carmen goes for a Juliette sleeve.

SJP makes her selections for team leaders and they are: Elisa and her Riding Hood Polymorphous Cape; Kit with the knit with low pockets; Victorya and her stupid baby doll with bow; Marion and his fitted cape; Ricky and his cropped top; Christian and his very complicated-looking jacket and Rami of the Dreamy Arms (nobody can resist the arms) gets props for being concerned about different types and styles of women with his shirt dress. Then SJP gets totally giddy and squeals “I’ll see you on the runway!” Can this show get any gayer? Would we care? Would we want it to be less gay? And the answers are: yes, no and no.

Off to the workroom for the excruciating game of “Last Designer Picked For a Team”. Marion of the stupid twee little hats chooses Squinty Steven. Ricky the Weeper opts for Jack, and who wouldn’t? Victorya picks Kevin and is probably the first to go for substance over style. Kit picks Chris, ditto on the skill set. Rami of the Arms of Legend picks Jillian, Christian takes Carmen (matching stupid emo haircuts) and that leaves Elisa with Sweet P. Elisa shows the same sort of class that Chris did in Bryant park and says that she got just who she wanted, ha-ha! and Sweet P wants to kill herself for being forced to work with Elisa.

Next stop: Mood

We see Kit telling Chris that they will be working with fleece and jersey. We see Elisa grabbing all sorts of stuff as Sweet P voices over that Elisa was grabbing all sorts of stuff that had nothing at all to do with the colors used in the Bitten line. Christian says that he’s ready to go, except he’s an awful up-talker, so it comes out “Ready?”“To Go?” And back they go to the workroom, where they have until midnight to cut and sew. Kevin and Victorya discuss shape. Rami instructs Jillian that he wants a loose fit so that all different body types can wear the garment. Squinty and Twee Hat Boy are talking. And talking. And talking. Elisa is trying to figure out how to make her dress with one cut. This is the same strategy she used last week, and it will soon come to light why. What we didn’t see last week, and what we can hope that we never see again, is how Elisa marks the pattern. She spits on it. She calls this “spit marking” and it is not as common a procedure as “hand measuring”. I need to mention that she spit marks the dress while Sweet P is holding the fabric up to her body. Elisa explains that she spit marks the fabric to “imbibe it with energy.” She means to imbue. To imbibe is what I need to do with a bottle of scotch if she keeps doing things like spit mark. Eek. Sweet P opines that she is from Earth and Elisa, some other planet, the happy planet of unknown name.

Ricky is crying again. Steve thinks that the design Marion has come up with is overly ambitious, but since he (Steve) is merely the sewing partner, he isn’t going to say anything, but he really is the one going to have to do all this sewing. Victorya and Kevin are doing fine, ticking along nicely. Elisa is hand-sewing the one seam (see? one cut, one seam. Can’t do a lot of hand sewing, so a minimum of seams is a requirement in a speed test like this.) The designers only have half an hour left, and there is still lots to do. Kit observes (astutely) that while she gets Elisa’s (my note says ‘intrigue’, but that can’t be right, so I’ll say) viewpoint, but that girlfriend is going to have to learn to use a sewing machine. And I say Amen and hand to G-d.

Runway Day

It’s the morning of runway, and now we see Jillian in a stupid hat. I’m telling you, this is stupid hats, stupid tats, stupid hair season on Project Runway. Carmen saunters over to chat with Sweet P, who is struggling mightily to iron the “handmade crap” and make it work. There is one hour for hair and make up. Jack says that Ricky has the “sickest model”, by which he means she is hott. Kit says that their sweater ended up looking a little French, so they accessorized it with a beret. Squinty and Twee Hat have made something greige, and not quite finished and ratty-tatty. It’s getting ugly, says Squinty Steve, and getting uglier, says Miz Shoes. Christian is primping and doing his own makeup in the L’Oreal makeup room. Elisa thinks that somehow, she and Sweet P made a perfect marriage. Kevin (who is straight, you know) and Victorya have made a little racer backed vest over the stupid baby doll and added a huge floppy bow at the neck of the dress. Christian, having finished his eye makeup says that he will be Surprised? If he doesn’t win?

Out come the models: Kit and Chris with their long-ish sweater and 3/4 leggings. Very cute on the model, it would look like crap on me or any other woman larger than a size two. Elisa and Sweet P’s dress is (and it sort of kills me to say this) really, really cute with a bat wing sleeve. The skirt is cut a touch too slim, and the cape is crap, but the dress is stunning. Rami and Jillian have made a meh shirt dress, with meh leggings. They have saddled their model with a purse the size of a Mini Cooper and an Amy Winehouse beehive, held in place by a ginormous head band. The whole look is awful. Twee Hat and Squinty send out their sloppy, floppy, fringed thing which makes me squeak: POCAHANTAS! As it turns out, it made Michael Kors squeak the same thing. Victorya and Kevin send out the sack and vest, and my note says boring/bad. Christian and Carmen have made a jersey turtleneck dress in almost the same color and cut (except for the batwing sleeve) that Elisa made. They have added a 1980s Euro-Trash fitted jacket over it. I notice that the cut of their dress has made their little stick-like model look like she has a poochy belly. Not a good sign. The last dress out is a sweet little scoop necked dress in a gorgeous shade of cranberry, and it was Ricky’s dress. Don’t cry, little emo boy, we love your dress, and we love the way you accesorized it.

Rating the Runway

The following designers represent the best and the worst: Elisa, Victorya, Marion and Christian. Victorya’s design is seen as “interesting” by Sarah Jessica Parker. NinaGarcia says that many types of women could wear it. Miz Shoes says that not many would want to. Twee Hat’s model is asked to remove the belt. This only makes it worse, because the sweater knit now looses any semblance of shape. The proportions are off. SJP says that the sketches look sophisticated. Michael Kors says the actual garment looks like Pocahantas and also, costume-y. It is noted that the arm holes are so huge that you can see the model’s bra, or side-boob. Heidi says that she just doesn’t get the whole thing, and it looks like it came off the basement floor. After the judges have finished flaying Marion, they move on to Elisa. Her dress, she explains, is polymorphic, which means it can be worn in many ways. The judges have been told about Elisa’s “spit marking” technique, and Heidi thinks that maybe she isn’t understanding the English words. Michael Kors looks like he’s going to vomit, at least a little bit. But, say the judges, the finished dress is great looking, and SJP declares the sleeves “stunning.”

Christian is called out for his full-on 1980s Addicted to Love look. Christian just sniffs his little emo sniff, and demands to hear what SJP has to say. What she says is that the dress is much more severe than his sketches, the color is different than what he showed her and that the dress itself is too short and too snug. Asked and answered, Little Emo Boy. This makes Carmen cry, so the judges ask her which designer she thinks should be sent home for this. Before she can answer, Christian steps up and says, I should. It was my design, and I take responsibility. Someone saw how much street cred Malan got for that answer last year, me thinks. The same question is asked of the team of Squinty and Twee Hat, and Marion gives the same answer: I was the leader, I’ll take the hit.

I have some weird notes about Elisa and Sweet P winning the Cape Cup? They took crazy and whining and turned it into something fabulous. I think this is where Elisa told the judges that she comes from another planet…with gifts. And does that mean that she is possessed of gifts? Or that she is coming to give us presents? And how much of how good that looked was due to Sweet P and her construction and pressing skills? Well, it doesn’t matter, because the winner is Victorya and Kevin (who is, you know, straight). It comes down to Marion and his stupid twee hat or Christian and his stupid emo haircut going home. Bye-bye little twee hat. Bye-bye.

And that is the end of episode two. So, week one was won by Rami of the Heavenly Arms, and week two by Victorya of the never ending baby doll dress. Hopefully, by week four, someone will notice a distinct lack of variety in her style.

The girls return from judging to the mansion on the hill, where they find a pile of books about China. Heather interviews that she always wanted to go to China, Jenah is dumping clothes higgledy-piggledy into a suitcase, Lisa is saying that being in the bottom two really took the life out of her and Binaca is bitching about Heather. Again. Change the station, already. We know you don’t like her, we know you are jealous of the way the other girls and the judges treat her, and we know that you a stank ho. So unless you have something new to add, we pretty much have heard all you got, Binaca. You can put a sock in it already.

And off they go, in the little animated airplane, to Shanghai. Binaca says that everything is made in China, so to her, Shanghai is just one big shopping mall, and all she wants to do (besides send Heather back on the first boat) is go shopping, shopping, shopping. Heather loves being in China and says that she does not want to go home. We don’t want you to be sent home either, honey. You are the crowd favorite this season. Chantallobotomy allows as how she had no clue that China would be so amazing. She says it looks like something from the Jetsons. I guess, except, you know, for the lack of flying cars, robots and buildings that float in the air. Heather, in her inimitable deadpan, says that Shanghai is like no city she’s ever seen. Except, maybe, Las Vegas. We see a montage of neon lights and high rise buildings. Binaca says that she didn’t fly 14 hours to turn around and fly home, and that when she leaves, she’s leaving happy. Well, she’ll certainly be leaving Miz Shoes happy, but I suspect that wasn’t what she meant.

The two Jays greet the girls and tell them to get rested and ready for the next phase of ANTM. They send them to the hamster cage, which turns out to be a penthouse suite in some bazillionty story high rise. There is immediate drama when the dorm room proves to have only 5 beds. Salacious D plants herself on an enormous bed that looks like a triple king, and Jenah, Binaca, Chantallobotomy and Lisa claim the other four. Which leaves, if you are paying attention, Heather without a place to sleep. True to form, the other girls laugh and laugh and pull Heather’s chain, trying to make her snap because that’s the most fun they can have in the house: torturing the faintly autistic one. Salacious D refuses to share the giant bed, saying the only people she gets in bed with are men, which I suppose means that if Jaslene were still around, she’s share with her. Lisa barely sprawls across a tiny little fainting couch and laughs herself sick telling Heather that she could always sleep on that. Much hilarity ensues among all the hamsters over that bon mot. Binaca says that she’s so happy that they were able to make Heather freak out. Then, when Heather asks what the joke is, Binaca charmingly tells her “you the joke.” I have got to say that Binaca is a new level of stank, even for the show that brought us Bree, Camille and Darth Jader. After everyone catches their breath from the side-splitting humor of the past ten minutes, Chantallobotomy decides that Heather is getting ganged up on, and that it isn’t right and so negotiates that Binaca and Jenah will share the big bed, and Heather won’t have to sleep on the floor. It is Chantallobotomy’s finest moment. I almost forget how annoying she is by this show of fair play and compassion. Heather steps up her game and interviews that she’s very much over being picked on and teased and that she’s just not going to let it get her down.

Amusingly enough, and in a major show of good editing (and how did THAT happen?) the Tyra mail contains this “I can’t stand the bitching and the fighting in the house.” Get ready to rumble. Off the girls go to a film studio where they meet Louis, who is not really a tour guide, but their martial arts instructor. They are shown the Old Shanghai street set, and then martial arts mayhem breaks out around them. Pretty cool. They learn that today’s lesson will be martial arts basic forms and positions. This lights Heather up, who interviews that she always wanted to do martial arts, but her mom wouldn’t let her. “Thanks, MOM.” she says in her funny, slightly off way. We see them trying to learn the positions, which admittedly, are a lot more complex than the five basic positions everyone knows from ballet. Binaca and Chantallobotomy can’t follow the speed, or really hit the forms. This makes Binaca, in her own words, get sour. Honey? Sour is to you, what a Mento in Diet Coke is to Old Faithful. Puh-leeze.

They change into Chinese robes, and then are brought into a courtyard where they are shown flying rigs. They will be put in the flying harnesses, and hoisted into the air. Then Louis will call out positions, and they will have to hit them…in mid-air. Heather is psyched. She thinks this is just tits, man. What a hoot! What fun! Lisa does what Lisa does, which is to say she starts to cry. Binaca does not like heights, remember? So she is not a happy camper about this exercise. Ha. And ha. Stank beeyotch.

Jenah and Chantallobotomy are first, and neither of them can balance in the flying rigs. They give it their best, but still can’t remember which pose is which. It is amusingly bad. Lisa and Salacious D are the next pair in the air, and Lisa spends the time screeching in fear and sucking. Heather and Binaca go last, and Binaca makes a “joke” about this being the only time Heather can smack her around. Binaca interviews that she doesn’t trust strangers. She has a huge fear of heights. She can’t go high. The other girls tell her she has to do this, what if in real life she gets a job that requires her to go high or something. She says that she just wouldn’t take those jobs. Louis tells her that if she doesn’t do this challenge, she will be disqualified. And we cut to Jaslene’s Life as a Cover Tranny. She’s shooting for 17 again. This time a fshnn shute. Although her diction has improved over the weeks, she still can’t deliver a line in a way that can be understood without closed captioning. Really. She’s an embarrassment to trannies every where.

Back in Shanghai Binaca is explaining that she wants to model, not fly in the air. To which I say… why? I’d take the ability to fly, even on wires, over being a clothes hanger any day. But in any event, Binaca tries, gets about 10 feet off the ground and starts to freak out. She cries, she wails, she begs to come down. She shakes, she cries, she totally loses her shit, and refuses to participate in the challenge, which means that Heather gets to fly around by herself, striking poses at will. She is fucking awesome at this. There is no challenge, really, she is the clear winner of this one. Her prize is a $500 shopping spree. Hardly a $40,000 dollar diamond, or a day at a Thai spa, but money is money and shopping is shopping. She gets to take a frenemy, and although she knows how much Binaca wants to shop, well, Binaca is a stank ho who keeps torturing her for shits and giggles, so she takes Chantallobotomy instead. Because Chantallobotomy was nice to her, and made sure that Heather didn’t have to sleep in the rags and ashes in the fireplace.

We get to see the girls shopping in an all-night mall. It’s pretty amazing, and Heather points out that she and C are like giants in a land of little people. That Heather. What a way with words. Well, at least you can understand what she says. They finally make it back to the gilded cage, and there is Tyra mail, telling them to channel their inner queens. Let their beauty reign. Another person with a way with words. Only, nobody has a clue what that means. There is a footnote and it tells them to bring their own clothes to the shoot tomorrow. Clothes that express who they are. Their inner personality. I don’t know if Binaca brought her devil tail and horns, we’ll have to wait and see.

It’s a Cover Girl shoot! There will be both print and a tv commercial. Brent, from Cover Girl, gives them a script to memorize, and shows them that there is a hole in the script where each girl will have to insert an ad lib about what makes them a queen. Yes, they are shooting for the Queen Latifah line, hence all the queen references. We get a quick series of Heather fretting that she can’t memorize lines, Chantallobotomy complaining that she doesn’t want to wear her own clothes (which we’ll see soon enough was a valid complaint) and Lisa mumbling and psyching herself up to sucking.

Salacious D goes first and is adorable, damn her, and nails it in four takes. Binaca finally gets to take seven, where she says that she’s a queen because she has flaws but makes them beautiful. (HAH!) Heather comes out and looks wonderful, with her hair all loose and curled. She fails rather spectacularly. She makes faces and sticks out her tongue when she fumbles a line. She absolutely cannot deliver. Finally, Jay feeds her her lines. And even that doesn’t help because she can’t mimic the inflection he uses. I realize that she looks like Bebe Neuwirth. But her line about “I’m a queen because I’m different and proud of it” is killer.

Jenah has a great delivery (after about 12 takes) and really horrible lower teeth. I never noticed them before, being blinded by those rabbit fangs in the front. She’s also showing roots and the rat weave isn’t holding up so great. But she has on a great t-shirt, and she can do a commercial. Chantallobotomy is wearing what looks to be Raggedy Ann’s old dress. She says that she’s a queen because she loves and pampers herself. Then she wrinkles her nose and you just know that that little nose wrinkle has broken more teenage boys’ hearts than she can count. The judges love her to death.

Lisa. Lisa starts out bad, and then gets worse. Every time she flubs a line she gets more tense, and then of course, the tears come. Little Orange Man says that Lisa only focuses on failing. Salacious D goes over and tries to help Lisa, and gives her a pep talk and Lisa gives Salacious D a very rude sort of mind your own fucking business brush off. Salacious D saunters off saying she won’t help a ho that don’t want helping.

And…..back to the penthouse where the usual pre-judging smack is going down. Lisa doesn’t want to go home. Binaca asks the question “What will you do if you have to go home?” My notes don’t say, and I’ve slept since then, but I’m pretty sure that this question is addressed to (of course) Heather. Binaca says that she for sure is not getting the boot, because they can’t send her home just for not taking the challenge. And I’ve watched enough seasons to know that she won’t get sent home until the powers that be have milked the last drop of human unkindness from her stank self. Jump to judging where Jenah is looking amazing for a change, but sort of wobbly in her high heels, Twiggy. Nigel. Miss Jay in yet another ginormous afro wig. Jeffrey Chu, who was the Director of Photography on the Cover Girl shoot.

Lisa is first. She looked panicked and like she was about to cry, and her forehead really wrinkles up when she talks. “I was.” Then cry, says Tyra. Let it out and then move on, because otherwise, you look like this: like you are about to cry and the whole shoot is fucked. Cry, but don’t mess the make up and then carry on. Her still shot, however, looks great, which means it must have been Photochopped. Jeffrey gives her props for being able to do a fierce still immediately after walking off a set where she was crying and blowing chunks. Nice guy. Chantallobotomy squinches up her eyes when she smiles, and her wardrobe is universally abhored, but the nose wrinkle got called out for cuteness.

Binaca, Tyra notes, was disqualified from the challenge this week. Yes, says Binaca, I have trust issues. Nigel (and we have seen way too little of Nigel this season) spits out “Then you are in the wrong business, honey.” Yeah. And your commercial sucked too. And my lord, but that girl has a huge mouth. When she smiles, she looks like those characters from South Park, whose heads split in half at the mouth. Jenah comes out and Nigel tells her she lacks charm. Twiggy says that she wouldn’t buy anything that Jenah was selling. But her still, with her hair flying and her arms up over her head like she was caught dancing? That’s a great shot. And everyone liked her t-shirt.

Salacious D gets the highest compliments from Twiggy, who calls her an actress, and Nigel who says she flirts with the camera, and advice on how to reduce the baggage under the eyes from Tyra. Heather gets slammed as the judges say she got special treatment and still sucked. They tell her to focus, not to make funny faces when she flubs a line because it makes the editing so difficult. And then they see her still shot and you could hear a pin drop. She is smiling. A glorious, big, amazing, Julia Roberts quality smile. Who knew?

The actual judging starts and the first thing is that all the girls sucked big time at commercials. Having said that, someone has to win and someone has to lose. Lisa? Sucked the worst of all. Chantal was pretty and cute and did the least sucking. Heather disappointed in her delivery. Salacious D is great, but is she getting better as the weeks go on? Jenah is seen as distinctly unlikeable by Nigel and Tyra admits that she doesn’t have any inner attractiveness. Which maybe explains why she also gets no air time, even though she’s still here after 10 weeks. Binaca’s delivery was hideous and Miss Jay and Nigel find her weak. 

As Tyra poses, ready to hand out photos, she says that collectively, they sucked. But, giving Chantallobotomy the first photo, you sucked the least. But get rid of that horrible thing you were wearing. Salacious D gets the second photo and the lecture that week to week she impresses the judges with her spirit, but she’s slowing down. Binaca: somebody needs to work on her fears. Her still was seen as beautiful, but her film was a disaster. Jenah, surprisingly, gets the next photo and Lisa and Heather are the bottom two. Lisa, predictably, starts crying. She has personality plus, but she can’t handle critiques. She needs some self esteem. Heather comes in and the judges lovelovelove her, but her commercial? Eek. Even with Jay feeding her lines, she still couldn’t deliver. Still, the judges think you have a certain something (it’s called Aspberger’s) and so… Heather stays and Lisa the Lap Dancer and champion cryer, goes back to the strip club. As her image fades, I realized that Jenah and Chantallobotomy are standing together in that shot, and wearing the exact same color. One of those girls is going home next week, I’ll bet, and I’ll bet it isn’t Chantallobotomy.

Last night I watched the great, Oscar-winning actor and total hottie, Kevin Kline in the 1986 version of The Pirates of Penzance. This is unfortunate, because I realized, as I watched him camp around singing his intro number I Am a Pirate King that this is the tune stolen to be Popeye’s theme. I now have a mash up of the two rocketing around in my head. To make matters worse, this ear worm has taken over the space in my brain previously occupied by Tim Curry’s novelty hit I Do the Rock, which showed up in i-pod rotation and stuck in my head for a week. I can honestly say that I’d rather be possessed by Tim than Popeye. Kevin only supplies the visuals in this, and even the memory of him in black tights, thigh high boots and a poofy white shirt cannot erase the pain of a mental loop caused by Popeye the Sailor King.

I try not to blog about my work life anymore, because frankly, life here at hospice is infinitely better than life at the hospital. Whereas at the hospital, the only time anyone gave a thought, much less a rat’s patootie, about the mission/vision was when the regulators were coming and any employee could be asked to recite them, here at the hospice I have found that people tend to live the values. Especially in the field, hospice work is more a calling than a job, and things like “We Take Care of Each Other” are profoundly held beliefs.

But there is always a fly in the honey, is there not? One of my co-workers has drunk our boss’ Kool-Aid and is all offended by the health and wellness program offered by the HR department. Why is a health and wellness program offensive? I don’t know. But it seems to be hinging on the addition/promotion of yoga. This is seen as intrusive and a religious pontification and a promotion of the HR director’s personal beliefs in contradiction to separation of church and state and who the fuck knows… I most emphatically did NOT drink the Kool-Aid on this one. All I know is that yesterday, at the corporate holiday lunch, said HR director gave a short presentation on life/work balance, and said co-worker just writhed in her seat (which was, unfortunately next to mine) and sighed and heaved, and rolled her eyes and carried on until I told her to put a poker face on it already and just shut the fuck up. This did not go over too well with my co-worker who felt she had to explain why she was so mortally offended by the presentation and the yoga and you know what? I have no idea what she was yapping on about because despite the pleasant smile on my face, in my mind, I was going “lalalalalala I CAN’T HEAR YOU!” Which is what you have to do in a corporate setting, and what I was trying to tell her about sitting there seeming to listen to the life balance blahblahblah.

Anyway, tonight I start cooking for Thanksgiving. The Girlcousin hosts it, but since all the women in my family find cooking to be a competitive sport, there is plenty of room on the buffet table for everyone to show off. I make two cranberry sauces (cranberries in port wine—fabulous, and Susan Stamberg’s mother in law’s cranberries with sour cream and horseradish, which is just divine), a pumpkin pie from scratch (because I can) and this year I’m roasting brussels sprouts.  The Girlcousin’s brother and sister-in-law bake, so there will be something chocolate, and lemon squares (for me) and probably a little more chocolate. There will be deep fried turkey and a regular turkey breast roasted in the oven. Potatoes and sweet potatoes. Salads. Kasha. Cocktails. Hilarity. Football. All the junior cousins will be in town, and I’ll finally get to meet my nephew’s wife.

On Friday, the other side of the family will gather for an after-Thanksgiving lunch and there will be more hilarity, more cousins, more food, and more love.

On Saturday and Sunday, I’ll be packing up stuff to bring back to Miami for a garage sale. Is there no end to the fun? And because I have them on hand, here are my two cranberry relish recipes.

CRANBERRIES AND PORT WINE

12 oz. bag fresh cranberries

1/2 c. sugar

1 c. port wine

Wash cranberries and place in pot with sugar and port. Bring to boil - reduce heat and boil gently, uncovered until berries begin to pop. Remove from heat and chill. May be kept in refrigerator up to one week. If you prefer a smooth gel, press though a cheese cloth.

MAMA STAMBERG’S CRANBERRY RELISH

2 cups whole raw cranberries, washed

1 small onion

3/4 cup sour cream

1/2 cup sugar

2 tablespoons horseradish from a jar (“red is a bit milder than white”)

Grind the raw berries and onion together. (“I use an old-fashioned meat grinder,” says Stamberg. “I’m sure there’s a setting on the food processor that will give you a chunky grind—not a puree.”)

Add everything else and mix.

Put in a plastic container and freeze.

Early Thanksgiving morning, move it from freezer to refrigerator compartment to thaw. (“It should still have some little icy slivers left.”)

The relish will be thick, creamy, and shocking pink. (“OK, Pepto Bismol pink. It has a tangy taste that cuts through and perks up the turkey and gravy. It’s also good on next-day turkey sandwiches, and with roast beef.”)

Makes 1-1/2 pints.

For more on Ms. Stamberg’s cranberry relish, NPR has the back story and other recipes.

Last night, after watching an exhausting hour of the Bianca

Bitches and Hos (aka America’s Next Top Model), I settled deep into the couch cushions, opened up the laptop and participated in a live blog party with the most rabid (and I say that in the nicest possible way) of the Project Runway fans over at Blogging Project Runway. Thanks for letting me in, and I’ll certainly do it again, even though it made taking any coherent sort of notes impossible.

And. We are off and running, and damn Heidi Klum for being spot on when she said this is the best season yet. We didn’t waste any time with the audition tapes or the freak show of folks who didn’t get in. There was no pre-challenge challenge to narrow the field. There were just new apartments, which, I’m sorry, look exactly like the old apartments. Gotham. Atlas. Cube Farm. What ever. The fourteen move in and the camera does not linger over any of them, but I wonder at the introduction between Jack and Kevin (who would like everyone to know that he is straight before we go any further). Kevin says hi and Jack says hi and they shake hands and seem to hit it off and then Jack charmingly allows as how the two of them will most likely loathe each other before the end of the season. And then he smiles and laughs, charmingly. Or sinisterly. Only time will tell.

In the women’s apartments the two earlies gloat over having squatter’s rights to the closet space and bed choices. It turns out that this is Jillian (in Betty Page mini-culottes) and Carmen (I used to be a model and if you were never a model, you don’t know shit about clothes.) They are joined by a heavily tattooed Sweet P (who used to be a biker chick and also has Evil P tattooed on her other forearm, and who warns us that you never want to meet Evil P. I’ll lay you odds right now that we meet her in all her Shetangi-like glory before the end of episode 3). There is the requisite whack job who comes in and claims a spot for her Sun Salutations. This is Elvira, uh, Elisa, who makes 30-foot tall marionettes which somehow accidentally translated into fashion. Whoo-boy. Is she Angela? Is she Lupe? Is she Vincent?

In the men’s apartment, we have the arrival of a flamboyant little boy with wicked manners and the worst emo haircut in history. It is Christian, and he has worked for Vivienne Westwood and gone to school in London, and is a perfect prat. He is also, he says with a stupid valley girl uptilt at the end of the sentence “Really kinda Fierce?” Hmmph. We’ll just see about that. He says he is thrilled to be sleeping in a bed because he sleeps on the floor at home. Why spend money on furniture when you can spend it on? What did he say? Fabric? OK. I’ll give him that. But if you have a big enough stash, then you can sleep quite comfortably on that. Not that I would know, by any means. I’m just guessing.

There is a handsome fellow named Rami from Israel, and a Jay McCarroll light clone, who, as it turns out, made the salad dress that Erin featured on Dress a Day. Look, I loved it then, and I love it now, and despite the unfortunate resemblance to Jay, I’m loving Chris March. There’s some guy who looks like a watered-down, much shorter Emmett. A stupid hat guy. Several stupid hat guys. Lots and lots of tattoos. None can hold a candle to the Neck of Darkness that was Jeffrey-the-Pinheaded-Shmoo, and for that, too, I am grateful.

Back in the women’s dorm, there are more tattoos and more women. Simone Le Fang. Kit, whose work just floored me. I love her stuff. And I know the perfect place to get the hats to wear with them.  If I don’t own that candy pink Marie Antoinette Pirate Tricorne with the fishnet drape by next Halloween, my name ain’t Miz Shoes. Of course, I’ll need the candy pink, be-ribboned and be-shelled corset, too. But maybe Kit works in pink… Rounding out both genders we have a florist who makes clothes and a lingerie designer who wants to do outerwear, and Victorya, who seems to design a lot of stuff that looks alike.

Heidi Mail! Meet us in Bryant Park. And now you know where that forced song lyric in the title came from. Hey, you want better? You think of better. Champagne, and nibbly things and small talk and Tim and Heidi. Heidi asks the designers if they are enjoying the champagne and they all say yes, and she says good, because the party is over. Tim reminds everyone how in previous seasons, the first challenge has been to make a dress out of junk like groceries or their apartment furnishings, but this year, no. He points across the park to three shabby art festival tents and tells the designers that the tents have what they will work from. Only—FAKE OUT!—it isn’t the tents, it’s what is inside the tents. $50,000 worth of fabrics from Mood. Heels come off, elbows come out and they stampede across the lawn to claim their yardage. Except for Chris, who is a leetle too portly to run. Kevin beats out Kit for the silk plaid. Elisa grabs some silk chiffon. Others are grabbing just anything. By the time Chris makes it to the tents, there is nothing left but (insert evil chuckle) exactly what he wanted. Good, because that was a shitty thing to do, reality show or not. Hah! and Snap! Their ultimate assignment: to make a garment that shows who they are as designers. State your point of view now, or for ever hold your peace.

Back they all schlep to Parsons, but not before Elisa takes her silk chiffon and starts scrubbing it in the grass, rubbing grass stains into the gorgeous fabric. She is wearing Bermuda shorts and high cowboy boots. She claims to be imbuing the fabric with the soul of the grass. Oh. Really. Well. That will either be fabulous or a fabulous atrocity. Score one for the Vincent style of loony. Or would that be Bradley? As they leave, Tim turns and looks at the skeletons of the tents. All that is left is a faux fur pelt, sadly alone. Poignant. And also nasty, which is why it was rightfully left behind to become a nest for rats, or some homeless guy when even the rats don’t want it. They arrive at the workroom. (Oh, workroom, how I’ve missed you and the mannequins. And the industrial machines and cutting tables of correct height and steamers and irons and the BlueFly wall of accessories, which last year was the Macy’s wall of accessories. It looks like a big step up in style this year.)

And now all the crazy comes out. Christian is showing off what he learned in Vivienne Westwood’s attellier, but without the attention to little details like matching the plaid, which he defends as a point of view when Tim questions the wisdom of matching the back seam, but not the sleeves. Christian is putting on the wicketywhack. Elisa is communing with the voices in her head to determine which one has the best ideas for the dress. Christian calls her strange. Miz Shoes calls Christian Mr. Pot, and points out that as such he has very little room to criticize Mrs. Kettle over there, who, having destroyed that yummy silk chiffon is now doing bad things to a bolt of peacock blue…jersey? In a moment of lunacy that makes Vincent, Lupe, Bradley and Angela all look like pillars of sobriety and sanity, Elisa is sitting on the sewing table, legs stuck straight out, and is somehow sewing the dress on herself, rather than on a dress form. What ever. I’m sorry, there Mr. Pot, you may, in fact, have a point. And then, while everyone else is working like made, she announces that she has finished and goes off to take a nap.

Rami is draping. Rami has biceps. No. Really. Rami is built like a brick house and as long as he wears tank tops, the man can do no wrong in my book. I think Tim Gunn may feel the same way, because he says things about Rami’s draping but he’s eyeing Rami’s biceps. And who can blame him? Rami is doing things with a steel grey silk georgette that makes me want to weep. Did I mention that he has really great arms? He does. And Marion and Ricky have stupid hats. I’m thinking that the rule this year is stupid hats, stupid tats and/or stupid hair. Carmen has the same asymmetrical emo cut that Christian does. I miss Laura all of a sudden. Finally it’s time to go home, and many of the designers have much left to do, like put in zippers, or sew up seams, or in the case of Elisa, make a dress that doesn’t suck.

It is morning in the apartment, and we are gifted with the sight of Jack in nothing but his briefs. Miz Shoes has a moment on the couch. Miz Shoes thinks that if Jack will continue to wander around in towels and briefs, Miz Shoes will be very happy. This is infinitely better than Santino in a towel. At Parsons the designers meet their models, send them off for hair and makeup and prep for the runway. There are some big girls this season, by which I mean that they may have eaten more than wheat juice and hot lemon water in the past year. Some of them actually look like solid food has passed their lips and they LIKED it. Elisa “hand measures” her model, by which I mean she estimates the girl’s height and width by hand spans. A hand is the standard by which horses are measured. A hand is four inches. In case you ever need to figure out someone’s height in hands. I am so amazed by this action of Elisa’s that I almost miss her (Elisa) thinking that maybe a column of peacock blue jersey with a tail of shredded, wadded up crap that will unfold and explode down the runway could be a bad idea because maybe the girl won’t be able to walk in it. Tim asks her if she’s sure about this concept and she says that the other times she tried it, it almost worked. Unfortunately, she doesn’t listen to the voice that’s telling her to make it work, she’s listening to the one that is telling her this: Bai Ling wants you to design for personality number 43.

Heidi comes out in a gold mini dress with her golden locks and her legs up to there and looks amazing. Today’s guest judge is Monique Lhuillier. No idea. Had to look her up. And the runway commences. Eliza’s model comes out (wearing a particularly clashing aqua slouch boot…Angela crazy moment) and promptly gets ensnarled in her gown and can barely make it to the end of the catwalk and back without tripping. Chris, who we saw nothing of in the workroom, has made a beautiful, elegant olive green and eggplant gown in something shiny and drapey. Charmeuse? Kevin, who wants you to know, before we go any further, that he is straight, has made a sort of Playboy Bunny/waitress mini-dress out of what looks like a black pinstripe menswear suiting, but with the added kickiness of a metallic ren-fest wench bustier. Meh. Sweet P has the first baby doll dress of the night, in an ivory oversize eyelet lace with burgundy at the neck and hem. Simone has a monochromatic hot mess with an even worse brocade mini shrug. Jillian has made a vibrantly red (perhaps a red sheer over a magenta stretch underlining) party dress with a bubble miniskirt. Christian hauls out his beige, black, white VW ensemble complete with bustle on the skirt. But markedly well-made, I have to say. Victorya sends down a black mini-baby doll with bondage straps across the upper arms that makes me think of something Heidi wore last year. Rami’s steel grey dress is a knockout, and I’d wear it if I could get it. Ricky the lingerie designer also sends down a black baby doll minidress. Ho-freaking-hum with the baby dolls already. Jack sent down a dress that could have walked in anyone’s cruise wear collection, and it is accessorized flawlessly. He used a black and white fabric, cutting it so that the print was an integral point of interest in the design. Oh, there’s a term for that, but it escapes me. He used a clear turquoise either as an edge treatment or as a lining that showed along the seams, I couldn’t tell about the construction, but it was another dress that would sell out if it were put into ready to wear. Marion did some Santino light thing all flowy and drapey and with raggedy swatches of denim. Steven (and who is he again?) did a wonderful, retro new-look sort of pencil skirt and dramatic jacket suit. Black with red accent. For all the color that I saw in the Bryant Park tents, and all the color popping out of their bags of swag, this is a black and red runway show. Carmen made something with genie pants and an Elizabethan vest. I didn’t want nightmares, so I didn’t look too closely. Kit sends out an asymmetrical black and red (plaid?) hottness. And then, there is judging.

Chris, Kevin, Sweet P, Jillian, Jack, Marion, Steve, Carmen and Kit are all safe. Rami, Simone, Ricky, Victorya, Elisa and Christian are the top and bottom three. Simone Le Fang says that she wanted to make a moderne romantic, but Michael says it looked like her model dressed in the dark. And you can’t sew, either. Rami’s silk georgette was called sophisticated and chic. MK pointed out that there was a mother-of-the-bride fleurchon up there on the shoulder, kind of spoiling everything. Ricky, as a designer of lingerie, was called out for doing a stupid baby doll when he could have done something constructed to within an inch of its life. A pageant dress? Oh, Kayne, where are you now? Victorya’s baby doll was also dissed, but Michael admired her use of the arm bindings, and laughed an evil laugh as he allowed as how he knew women who would bleed for fashion, much less not be able to hail a cab.

And then we had Elisa, who explained her point of view thusly: “a sylphlike haiku of a cut like SLLLLLLUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRPPP and a tail that goes FFWWWWWAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH”. Imagine the appropriate hand gestures, too, please. To which Michael says, “you had me at hello. Color: pretty. Sleeve: pretty. But where to stop? It’s a train wreck.” Dammit, Michael, low puns are MY purview. Christian’s work was found to be innovative (you say innovative, I say derivative. Tomayto. Tomahto.) Rami’s ability to drape with those amazing arms was duly noted as was the fact that he knows his craft.

As the judges discussed the bottom three, Heidi said that Elisa’s dress made her model look like she was (and again I quote, because there is nothing I can add) “pooing fabric”. And finally, Rami wins and Simone is out. Next week looks like a team challenge. And having watched this and ANTM in the same night, I am left to ponder the differences between shit and shinola.