I’m a day late and a dollar short on this, but yesterday was an historic day in the history of women’s rights. It was the 88th anniversary of women winning the right in America to vote.

Back in the dawn of time, when I was a little shoe, my friends and I always made a point of celebrating the occasion. This year, it was with no small amount of symbolism that Hillary gave her convention speech. Not the one she wanted to give, which would have be the nominee’s acceptance oration, but a speech nonetheless, and nonetheless historic. This was the year that the first viable female candidate for President of the United States almost made it to the general election. It only took 88 years, but hey, at least it was less than a century. Let’s give it up for Hillary.

Item the Second

For some reason, RJ decided to hit me with a meme. Thanks, bitch. I feel obligated to do this, since I never return the chain letters of love she sends me.

Instructions: What you are supposed to do…and please don’t spoil the fun…Copy/paste, type in your answers and tag four people in your lists! Don’t forget to change my answers to the questions with that of your own.

(A) Four places I go over and over: Newport, RI; Sarasota; New York City and Disney World (go ahead. mock me)

(B) Four people who e-mail me regularly: RJ, Star, Elise, CousinSteve

(C) Four of my favorite places to eat? Gil Capa’s Bistro; Les Halles; The Crab & Fin; Fox’s

(D) Four places you’d rather be? Sarasota, New York, Tahiti, home on the couch

(E) Four TV shows I could watch over and over: Firefly; Star Trek (oh, wait… I DO); Deadwood; The Avengers

(F) Four people I think will respond: Actually, I don’t think anyone will. So, you guys? Just stick a link in the comments if you decide to play.

But Wait, There’s More

As if RJ’s meme wasnt’ enough, Mean Louise tagged me the next day with another one. So here goes nothing:

Here are the rules:

1. Link to the person who tagged you (see above).

2. Post the rules on your blog (this is what you are now reading).

3. Write 6 random things about yourself (see below).

4. Tag 6 people at the end of your post and link to them (This is only a game)

5. Let each person know they have been tagged and leave a comment on their blog

6. Let the tagger know when your entry is up

Six Things About Me

1. I have a tattoo of a Siamese Cat on my shoulder in an homage to Bob Dylan

2. I worked as a figure model in a life drawing class at the Woodstock School of Art

3. I eat chicken feet at dim sum restaurants just to get street cred with the steam cart pushers. It works.

4. I almost got crushed at a Bad Company concert at Madison Square Garden when a fight broke out in the front row

5. I still want a horse, dammit

6. If I could live in any other time and place, it would be in Belle Epoque Paris, and who’s to say I won’t in my next life

You’re it! RJ, Elise, Elise, Shan, Gigi and Bee

Open on the boy’s room, where a yellow stickie note reads “too much drama” (and not enough talent, snarks Miz Shoes). A quick cut to the women’s dorm reveals that Korto is kind of peeved that Kelli went home and that (in her opinion) that talentless hack Daniel2.0 is still around. Joe does a quick interview in which he dismissed Keith’s design aesthetic as “swatches”. The claws are out tonight, and we haven’t even gotten to the first commercial.

On the Parson’s runway, Heidi hold the velvet button bag. The back-lit silhouette is immense, with a set of Texas longhorns coming out of the cone-shaped head. Suede sums it up with a succinct “What the FUCK?” All is revealed as a great cackling laugh precedes the person of Chris March, dressed in full Brunhilde drag. He’s wearing disco balls for boobs, and a helmet with the above mentioned horns. He’s as fabulous as ever, and he and Heidi attempt to hug, but are foiled by the disco tits.

Quick shot of Terri proclaiming that this is the challenge she’s been waiting for, as she loves herself some drag queens. Korto, on the other hand, is overwhelmed by the visual stimuli of same. And, yes, that is the challenge this week: to design a stage costume for a drag queen. Oh, but not just any old random, off-the-street drag queens, but the Queens of the NYC drag scene: Farrah Moans, Miss Understood, Sweetie, Luisa Verde, Hedda Lettuce, Sharon Needles, Le May, Annida Greenkard, Sherry Vine, Acid Betty and Varla Jean Merman.

As the winner of the previous challenge, Keith gets to choose first, and he goes with Sherry Vine, who describes herself as NY’s Hollywood Starlet. In quick procession the designers choose their muses: Daniel2.0/Annida Greenkard, because she’s dressed in a flamenco dress; Oompa-Loompa-Licious opts for Miss Understood, who is dressed in neon colors and besides, really, it’s just pretty obvious isn’t it?; Jerell/LeMay (because she isn’t into costume); Straight Joe/Varla Jean Merman who describes her style as classic Ann Margaret drunk on glamour; Korto/Sweetie, because she likes sugar; Suede says that Suede has a head of ocean, and therefore needs Hedda Lettuce; Leanne steals Stella’s most likely choice, Sharon Needles; Kenley scoops up Farrah Moans; Terri goes for the seven-foot tall Acid Betty and Stella is left with Luisa Verde.

Chris and Heidi leave the stage arm in arm, engaged in some painful banter about going out for German food, which Heidi suggests would be beer and pretzels. Tim reminds the designers that designing for a drag queen means theatrical and over the top. No color too gaudy, no amount of sequins too many, no way to be too costumey. Do they listen? Not so much. They will get a budget of $200 and two days to work. All of the finished items will be auctioned off to Broadway Cares-Equity Fights AIDS. The designers and drag queens get half an hour to brainstorm their creations, incorporating the DQ’s personas and the designers’ styles. Then it’s off to Mood, where we see feathers and sequins and sparkly stuff. Straight Joe admits that this is way out of his league, but he’ll just imagine himself designing Halloween costumes for his daughters. Lord, I hope he doesn’t send those little girls out looking like drag queens. They’re just little girls, for heaven’s sake.

Daniel2.0 claims that he’s going to make a Glamazon Flamenco Dancer/Couture ensemble. I hear the first tolling of the iron death bell. Stella drones nasally about Luisa wants to be a lady, but she, Stella, prefers slick. Kenley is delighted with Farrah Moan, and is planning an Old Hollywood va-va-voom. Tim comes in to remind the designers that they really need to showboat this challenge, because, you know, hello? DRAG QUEENS?! And the winner gets immunity, which leads to Keith pissing and moaning about how he won the last challenge and is very not happy that he didn’t win immunity. Is it just me, or is Keith turning into a whiney little bitch who thinks he’s Miss Thing and All That and totally entitled?

Joe’s DQ has left behind her bra and boobs and there is much hilarity as everyone plays with them and they discuss the challenge of turning a large male mannequin into an even larger female dress form. Korto complains about how this challenge is out of her comfort zone. Honey? We don’t care. That’s sort of the whole point of this whole damn show, isn’t it? Terri describes her 80s look of leggings and a kimono for Acid Betty. Oompa-Loompa-Licious is wandering around with pink stuff tied over his head like a neon scarecrow (maybe he’s hoping the color will run and replenish his tan) and licious this and licious that-ing about every one and every thing. We are treated to a montage of all the other designers being sick and tired of Oompa-Loompa-Licious and his liciousness. Stella calls him cute, but all he knows is Licious, what ever that is. Leanne says that if she has to hear it one more time, she’ll barf, or maybe that would be barf-licious. Good one, Leanne.

And we’re at Day Two. Jerell says that walking into the work room, there is no doubt that they are designing for drag queens. (It’s a hot tranny mess up in there.)There are sequins and feathers and glitter all over. Suede tells us that he had a vision of his dead grandfather, looking over his design and telling him, “Suede, you need some seeds.” From this epiphany comes little lettuce heads, which he sews up the sides of the lime green opera-length gloves. Keith is doing something with fringes. Keith’s definition of fringes is very broad, encompassing any old shred or swatch of fabric he sticks down on a garment. He called last week’s skirt fringed, and it was scales/petals of chiffon. What ever. The other designers are as over his “fringes” and “swatches” as they are of Oompa-Loompa-Licious’ little verbal tic.

The queens come in for fittings and adjustments. They are not in drag, and none of the designers recognize these drab men as their fabulous muses. Only Hedda Lettuce keeps the persona going when out of costume. She’s fierce. Korto has made sort of a jester collar in flame colors and a huge strap-on (OH, get your minds out of the gutter, people) overskirt for Sweetie. Sweetie loves it, but I think it looks a bit like a sequined tomato on steroids. I do love the collar, though. Speaking of collars, Jerell is having issues with LeMay, who isn’t too keen on the deeply ruffled portrait collar he’s constructed. Straight Joe and Varla Jean look at the hot pink, sequined jump suit, and Varla says that it’s a little too Elvis. Maybe, she says, as she smoothes down her collar, we could make it a little more sailory? And the Miss Ann-Margret does the Love Boat look is born.

Hedda Lettuce is raggin’ on Suede, who is wearing an unfortunate pirate striped do-rag. She’s feeling a leetle Godzilla-ish she says, as she pulls on the lettuce covered gloves. And then she asks if Suede made gloves instead of sleeves cause he’s a lazy sack of shit. Suede is not happy with this line of questioning, and rightly flounces off in a huff.

With a mere six hours to go, Tim bring in Chris March to review and critique the designer’s work. Korto explains that her concept was “a woman in heat” and it certainly is. Oompa-Loompa-Licious has made something neon (again) with big, but not big enough, cone-shaped shoulder pads? wings? appendages? on the back that trail streamers. Tim tells him that it looks like a Pterodactyl from a gay Jurassic Park, and Oompa-Loompa-Licious gets all twitterpated and squeals that Tim has given him the greatest compliment, ever. Uh, no. No, he hasn’t you little orange troll, and even though you scored points with me last week, you have already lost them and dug further into my pit of contempt with your shenanigans this week.

Straight Joe has totally understood Varla’s persona and Chris and Tim are charmed. Suede tells them about how Hedda was such a bitch to him, and they tell Suede not to let her get away with that behavior. Tell her to wear it and work it, baby. And PS? That outfit is way cool, and she’d better work it for you. Keith’s pile of grey, white and black shreds is awful, and there isn’t a lot Tim or Chris can say. Daniel2.0 has made a pretty prom dress which has nothing to do with drag. Tim tells him to step up the drag and drama, and Daniel2.0 ignores him. Ask not for whom the bell tolls, Daniel2.0, it is tolling for thee. Oompa-Loompa-Licious, in an astonishing flash of insight, interviews that Daniel2.0 has made an evening gown, and a plain one at that, and not a drag queen’s costume. Jerell says something random about having to sell his dress like vacuums door to door.

The girls come in for the show, and hair and make up, which they don’t really need. Keith and Stella argue about the fringes and whether or not they need to be trimmed. Suede takes Hedda out to the tool shed and explains how he’s not happy with Hedda’s diva act, and how she needs to work this on the runway. Hedda, who is flawless, apologizes and all is sunshine and bunnies on team Suede Lettuce. Stella’s model says that she looks like Liz outa rehab, but I think she’s leaning a little toward Liza, myself. Also outa rehab. Stella, with an amazing lack of irony, claims that “these broads (referring to the drag queens) aren’t classy.” As we head into commercials, the quiz of the day is “who would you rather see in drag, Tim or Michael Kors?” The unanimous answer at Casa des Zapatos is Michael, although we suspect that he may not be a stranger to it.

Finally, we get to the runway. Heidi is in something short, shiny and tight. The guest judge is RuPaul, who is looking rode hard and put up wet. I have a dislike for RuPaul that goes back to her being vulgar and mean to Uncle Milty at the end of Berle’s life, and also to her being a bitch one year at White Party, so just maybe RuPaul isn’t aging as badly as I think. Or she is. On with the show.

Kenley’s dress is a silver, sequined column with an enormous portrait collar of black and white ostrich feathers. I think I’ve seen Carol Channing in this, wearing it with no irony whatsoever. Meh.

Oompa-Loompa-Licious’ model’s wings are drooping sadly. Oompa-Loompa-Licious says he doesn’t want the judges to think it was poorly made. It was. Varla Jean comes out in her hot pink pantsuit and works the runway and her outfit to within an inch of both their lives. She’s magnificent. Stella sends out another leatherette and plaid Vivienne Westwood homage. Ho-fucking-hum.

Hedda Lettuce does herself and Suede proud in her little green dress with the overjacket and gloves. She gives it her all, and everyone is happy. Daniel2.0’s Anneda Greenkard does her best, but it’s all hair and nothing else. Boring, boring, boring. And we never want to bore NinaGarcia. Terri’s Kabuki Samurai is AMAZING! The hair and make-up are perfect, the kimono and thigh-high boots with a red patent leather corselette/obi are fierce. The look is frightening and fabulous. The boots have been modified so that they are not identical. Acid Betty works it.

Jerell’s dress is weak, and Stella Needles isn’t feeling it. Sweetie, however, is feeling it, and she works that spangled tomato to death. She pulls off the overskirt and flashes her gams. Keith’s limp pile of “fringe” looks (HE says) like Tina Turner. Defensively, he adds, “Yeah, I used fringe again. So what? It’s totally different.” The last look is Leanne’s Jetsons-inspired mini. It’s all full of spiky folds and angles. It’s pretty damn cool.

Oompa-Loompa-Licious, Kenley, Suede, Stella and Leanne are sent away, safe for another week. Korto, Terri, Daniel2.0, Straight Joe, Keith and Jerell are the best and the worst, and stick around on the runway, waiting for the final tolling of the bell.

Terri’s design is loved to death by all. It’s Gene Simmons/Dianna Ross. Michael Kors says that he needs the boots. Told you he was a big old tranny. RuPaul loves the look.

Keith claims that his look is Sex Kitten. Heidi says it’s messy and Keith replies that rock and roll is messy. RuPaul asks “And did the dingos eat your baby? because you are all full of excuses.” Michael says that it doesn’t look like rock and roll, it looks like a “sad, molting gray chicken.” Michael Kors is brilliant. I want to go hang out and drink with him. And are the designers getting mouthier with the judges, or is it just editing? I remember rumors of Santino making NinaGarcia cry.

Jerell gets no love from the judges, either. RuPaul says that the proportions are wrong, and MK says that it looks a little bit Thoroughly Modern Millie Under The Sea, with a side of my auntie would have worn that to a bar mitzvah. Surrogate Daughter Number 3 suggests that MK is getting more Jewish every week. Korto, however, is lauded for her work with Sweetie. RuPaul loves the flattering shape. MK says that it gives Sweetie a Heidi Klum body, and he hears Victoria’s Secret calling. Sweetie squeezes the girls and sighs, oh, if ONLY they made a 44D.

Daniel2.0 is asked by NinaGarcia why, for the love of G-d did you NOT use sequins? And Daniel2.0 says that doing so would have made him vomit. I think that’s the final tolling of the bell, there, sport. The judges all howl that his work was too normal. They say “normal” like it’s a bad thing, which, when designing duds for drag queens, it totally is.

The judges deliberate, and it isn’t interesting enough to repeat. The results of the poll say that 54% of the respondents would rather see Tim Gunn in drag. The Surrogate Daughter and I agree that he could probably rock a drag Mary Poppins. Or the banker’s secretary from the Beverly Hillbillies.

Terri is in (and none to happy with coming in second). Damn, that’s a puss face. Straight Joe wins!!! As well he should. Varla sold that outfit and it fit her like a glove. She tee-hees, and oh, yous the judges and flutters her false eyelashes. Straight Joe gets immunity for next week. He goes to the back and sits next to Terri, who glares daggers at him, and you know that she just wants to cut a bitch. Korto and Jerell are in. Daniel2.0 and Keith are on the bottom. Daniel2.0 is taken to task for not listening, and not delivering anything but excuses. Keith is told his work is random, unpolished and getting old. Keith is left in to bore Nina another week, and Daniel2.0 and his impeccable taste get to pack up their pins and needles and go home. Good-bye, Danny boy. You were never as interesting as Daniel Franco, anyway.

Next week, the designers work with auto parts or something and Laura Bennett is our guest judge. Whee!

My grandmother, OBM, was a lot of things, and a lot of them not too nice. But there was one thing she was, wholeheartedly and without reservation, and that was an ardent Zionist. There wasn’t a news story, a scandal or a non-fiction book published, that she didn’t ask the question: “But is it good for the Jews?” She was an old-fashioned woman, the kind who would spit (or at least pretend to) when certain people’s names were mentioned (oh, you know, like Adolf Hitler, or my first husband). Reading this story today, my grandmother would have become apoplectic.

I mean, OK, you want more power, so you turn your coat and become an “Independent” and no longer a Democrat, although you caucus with the Dems. OK, whatever, you nasty little chickenhawk, you want to support the meaningless war in the Middle East because you think it would be good for the Jews, although G-d only knows how. But to go out and campaign for John McCain? AND speak against Barack Obama? Oh, get over yourself, you terrible little man. Just declare yourself a Republican already. Oh, that’s right. You won your election as a Democrat, so changing parties after the fact is a little disingenuous. Still, it didn’t stop you from going to the indefinable middle, did it? Nor is it stopping you from giving a speech at the Republican convention, or even keeping you from being considered on the short list for John McCain’s running mate.

And you know what? Although my grandmother would be very unhappy with this, I say, go for it. Because in the long run, you on the ticket with McCain would be very,very good for the Jews. In that all those in-bred, racist fucks who don’t want to vote for someone who’s half-black will just have to kill themselves before they’d ever let a Kike be a heartbeat away from the presidency. Yep. You just get on that ticket and run, run, run, you little khazer. You sit out campaigning on the sabbath and push your Jewishness in all those white bread faces who are scared of anything different. Nothing you do could do more to help the Democratic candidate. And a Democrat in the White House, especially this Democrat, would really be good for the Jews.

Isn’t going to be today. There’s a tropical storm churning away in the Straits. This is what my day looks like.

Yeah. I’m hip deep in my studio, wading through PIGS (Projects in Garbage Sacks), UFOs (Un-Finished Objects) and just regular piles trying to wrestle it into shape so that I can work. I have two major projects in the works: a tallis for my niece (in pink and green and purple, of course), and a pair of throws out of the SisterGirlFriendGirl’s daddy’s ties. I am cursing the silk and yearning for the nice, lumpy, forgiving mess that is felting. I’ve uncovered a couple of things that I think I’m going to fix and finish, in between the real projects.

At some point today or tomorrow, I’ll be posting pics. Not of the workroom, of course, because pictures of my work space in the messy stage is enough to make the sweet baby Jesus drink gin from the cat dish.

The thing about earworms is that you have no control over them. Not what gets stuck in repeat, not how long it gets stuck, not who sings it. I’ve had “Lydia The Tattooed Lady” stuck in my head for two weeks. I finally gave up and watched the clip. It didn’t help. I’m still whistling this. I can only hope that, like a foul mood, the best way to get rid of it is to give it to someone else.

We have also (speaking in the imperial plural, which, while annoying and affected, isn’t as bad as using the third person) chosen a name for our little yellow Smartie. Thanks and props to Gigi who came up with it. Here’s a visual:

plus

equals: Tweety McPeeps! I tried to give it another name, but every time I thought about Tweety McPeeps, it just made me laugh. So, Tweety McPeeps it is.

And lastly, please click on my widdle dragons and help them grow up.

A caveat, if you will. Unlike the TWP folk, I don’t have TIVO. I recap more or less on the fly, taking notes as I watch the show live. I am surrounded, usually, by the RLA, my three attention-demanding pets and an assortment of Surrogate Daughters and their friends. There is usually alcohol involved, and food. Sometimes I don’t get things right, I only get my impressions. Deal with it, and if you feel the need to correct me in the comments, go right ahead. So, without further ado:

Korto opens the show reliving the glorious moment when she won immunity for this challenge. Daniel2.0 follows by reliving the not so glorious moment when he found himself in the bottom two, again. He vows that, as God is his witness, he’ll never go hungry again. Or end up in the bottom two. Way to curse yourself, dude. Don’t any of you people on reality shows actually watch reality shows? It’s called HUBRIS, and it goeth before a fall. Or an auffing. I’m just saying.

Model selection whizzes by as Korto foolishly keeps her model, and doesn’t steal Shannone. The week’s challenge will be to design an outfit for a glamorous, chic, high-powered professional woman. Stella assumes that would be Sharon Osborne. Sigh. But no, it is Brooke Shields, and they won’t be designing for her so much as for the character she plays on some Sex and the City knock-off that she’s in, Lipstick Jungle. Brooke is described as a fashion icon, author, model and actress. To me, though, she’ll always be the one who fought Tom Cruise over meds for post-partum depression… and won. To Suede, she is still the face/body of Calvin Klein jeans, and he loves her for that. I love the fact that Suede seems to have dropped the use of the third person. Brooke’s character is described as a Studio Executive, married to a musician and living a Bohemian lifestyle. Puh-leeze. Can you throw one more dramedy archetype in there? The ensemble should work as a day-into-night, office to cocktails look.

Oompa-Loompa-Licious says that he has friends who are exactly that, and he is “stoked” to be doing this challenge. Oompa-Loompa-Licious says that he has this one in the bag. (See HUBRIS, above) The designers are given half an hour to sketch, after which they will present their designs to Brooke. She will choose six team leaders, and they will pair up with the remaining designers to create the looks.

Jerell says that he really needs to listen to the challenge this week. And the sky is blue, and lemons are tart, and grass is green. Keith says some bullshit about a convertible sleeve. Kelli wants to design with an animal print because the show is Lipstick JUNGLE. Get it? Jungle? Animal prints? Knock, knock. Who’s there? Ms. Obivous. Daniel2.0 is shown sketching and he can really draw. Not only is the design nice, but it actually looks like Brooke. Kiss of death, there, dude.

They present to Brooke in sequence: Suede is told to modernize his look. Kenley is selling a boat neck, and Brooke seems to like it. Terri is showing (another) pantsuit and Brooke loves the pants. Oompa-Loompa-Licious has a Bermuda short ensemble which is questionable, sort of like Oompa-Loompa-Licious. Daniel presents something and Keith presents something, and my notes say that Brooke likes the combination of textures in Daniel2.0’s work, but she may really have said that about Keith. Stella, in another quantum leap away from her usual crap, offers up a leather “cor-SET” (yes, she put the accent on the second syllable). Straight Joe goes by so fast that I can’t take a note. Korto has a palette of orange and lime green and Brooke says that’s perfect. Leanne offers up something that is comfy, yet impeccable? And Jerell shows khaki.

Before Brooke announces her team leaders, but not before they’ve seen sketches, she tells the designers that the winning look will be worn by her on the show next season. Since this is such a huge prize, there will be no immunity.

Terri, who refuses to play to her urban, inner-city stereotype, says “Oh, GURL, you don’t know what you just did.”

Keith is called first, and he gloats about it in an interview. I was FIRSTEST!!!! Then Korto, chosen for the ethnicity angle she spoke to Brooke about and which we didn’t see. Jerell, whose look was young and leggy, and Brooke’s got gams. Kelli is picked, but told to watch the use of the jungle print, that it shouldn’t be too obvious. Terri’s pants are perfect, and she was the only designer to feature pants. The last team leader is…. Oompa-Loompa-Licious. I know. We all groaned. Brooke says that she took a chance with Oompa-Loompa-Licious, and that she wants to see if he can be different without being too shockingly different. (She didn’t notice that he’s an orange little troll?)

To chose their partners, the six team leaders’ names are drawn at random from the velvet button bag. Oompa-Loompa-Licious is drawn first and takes for his partner Leanne. Keith takes Kenley, whom he says is too bossy and opinionated, but that if he can get her to shut up, she can sew. Terri picks Suede. Korto takes Straight Joe and Kelli, with some sadness, opts for Daniel2.0. She says that she loves Stella, but that Stella just couldn’t make what she, Kelli, is going for. Which leaves Stella to team up with Jerell. Jerell shows the most class of any of the designers this season when he says that he wanted Stella anyway, because he wants to use leather and he needs her skill set.

There’s a midnight deadline and a budget of $150 per team. Off to Mood, where Keith and Kenley are getting into it immediately over fabric choices. Kenley has glommed on to some nasty little floral print, and won’t let go. Tim comes over to see what the fuss is, and tells them to keep looking.

Daniel2.0 and Kelli are not happy with each other’s choices, either. Kelli is looking at turquoise/jade green with black lace over it and it looks like ass. When Daniel2.0 tries to tell her that, she shuts him up and he goes back to looking like a sad little puppy.

In the workroom, Jerell and Stella agree that they can both knock out a skirt in no time, and Jerell leaves that to Stella. Kenley is whining about Keith’s design and that she doesn’t like it. Kelli is unhappy with Daniel2.0’s sewing skills and is riding him like a wild stallion.

Suede and Terri are also having issues. Apparently Suede measures everything first and Terri just cuts. Suede has draped the top and there doesn’t seem to be enough fabric to make the skirt. Suede is not happy with Terri’s management skills. Terri is not happy with Suede. Terri says, and I quote “I don’t know what he’s packin’ there, ball or a va-jayjay, but he’s gotta man up.”  Well, alrighty, then. Way to play against type, GURL.

Oompa-Loompa-Licious claims that he’s crazy because both his parents were crazy, then they got divorced and married another set of crazy people. Crazy is in the blood. There’s therapy for that, Oomps.

Keith tells Kenley to redo something. Jerell is confident and Stella is hammering away at some chartreuse leatha. Tim arrives to give the designers a happy surprise: extra time to fit the models. Is this because we’ve seen that there are fitting issues ever frelling week this season, or just to be nice? Daniel2.0 and Kelli are still having problems and issues with D2.0’s sewing skills. The skirt he’s made is described as being half ruched, half not, the skirt itself is crooked and the zipper isn’t set right. It’s awful. Kelli is demanding that Daniel do it over. Daniel interviews passive-aggressively that yeah, the skirt is awful, but it’s also Kelli’s design and he doesn’t much care that it sucks. I feel you, Dannytwopointoh.

Terri and Suede are nose to nose, too. Terri keeps saying that the shirt Suede made is “all jacked up; that everything Suede touches is NOT gold.” Terri is ready to throw Suede under the bus, and the sooner the better. I am a little shocked to say that my sympathies are lying with Suede on this. Tim comes into this drama to check on the designers, and heads over to Oompa-Loompa-Liciousville, where the khaki Bermuda shorts are taking shape. He tells Oompa-Loompa-Licious that this is not going to work for evening, and it might even be a little too casual for business day. Oompa-Loompa-Licious tries to get Tim to say “holla atcha boy”, but Tim merely grimaces stiffly in a death-like rictus of a smile, and beats it out of the area.

Jerell and Stella have truly collaborated and the colors and shapes are terrific. The chartreuse waist cincher is paired with a not-too-obvious leopard print flowy skirt and a sort of forgettable top. To Kelli and Daniel2.0, Tim says that he’s dubious about the look. Well, the look is dubious, so that’s an appropriate response. As he comes to Suede and Terri (still looking daggers at each other) Tim asks why they are concerned with their piece. Terri asks for a reality check about the top that she thinks is so jacked. Tim loves it, so stick a sock in it, Terri. Keith and Kenley are showing a really nice skirt/blouse thing, so Tim rubs Kenley’s nose in her choice of that tacky fabric that she insisted they buy. She has to admit that she was wrong. It’s sweet. For us, the audience and Keith, but not so much for Kenley.

Korto and Joe have an orange dupioni silk tunic on their mannequin. It’s very over sized (kind of like everything else Korto does). Tim isn’t happy and Straight Joe agrees that it looks like a giant sweet potato. This sends Korto over the edge, and she and Straight Joe have to have a time out in the lounge to discuss why he didn’t tell her it sucked before Tim got there. She says that she wouldn’t let him walk into a bus, and that he should have defended his point of view.

Oompa-Loompa-Licious rubs his little orange hands together in glee and chortles over how awesome it’s going to be when he sees his look on the Lipstick Jungle… I’m going to win, my precious, he says.

Kelli and Daniel2.0 make a new skirt and the girls all get together and have a good laugh over the fact that they think that Daniel2.0 wouldn’t know high-end glamour if it sat on his lap and called him daddy. Then Jerell trashes Terri while wearing a stupid, twee and obnoxiously bright green (and too small, sitting on the side of his head) hat. Tim comes in and tells the designers to “appropriately” borrow from the BlueFly accessory rack. Hmmm, do you think somebody noticed how badly the designers are styling the models this year? They are styling themselves badly, too. Oompa-Loompa-Licious appears to be wearing a micro-vest. Leanne has on a huge, folded, pleated, asymmetrical collar that is attached to another mini-bolero thing. Jerell is wearing a white dress over his pants. Stella has on the jacket that matches her Dr. Suess on bad acid stripey leggings, but thankfully not the leggings. All in all, this is a motley crew.

On the runway, the models are not faring a whole lot better. Korto’s tunic has been belted and looks smart. Then the model takes off the tunic and there is a flesh-colored, strapless column dress with a wonky cut out in the back. It doesn’t fit. Anywhere. Kelli and Daniel2.0s ensemble is cut too short on the bustierre thing, so that there is belly showing between the top and the top of the plain skirt. It’s just awful on so many levels, especially the tacky leopard print with the tiny bra-cups of teal. Ick.

Jerell and Stella’s outfit is amazing. The skirt flows, the proportions are great, and the colors and patterns all work. They have put a zebra skin belt over the chartreuse waist-cincher, and it needs to come live in my closet. I know. I can’t believe it, either. Terri and Suede’s model looks like a giant inverted triangle. She’s wearing skin-tight pants, and a flow-y top with a super-wide, ruffled boat neck, and falls to a belted waist. It is reminiscent of the thing she did that won, except it doesn’t fit as well. Oompa-Loompa-Licious’ has made very low rise Bermudas, paired with a jersey top with some strappiness going on at the shoulder/neck/sleeve and a teal Forever 21 cotton top over it.

The teams of Jerell/Stella, Kelli/Daniel2.0, Keith/Kenley and Oompa-Loompa-Licious/Leanne are asked to stay, as they represent the best and the worst. The other designers (who?) are sent away, safe. For now. Brooke tells Jerell that his combination of textures and patterns is perfect. Michel Kors agrees that the silhouette is flirty, sexy and NOT cheap. Heidi loves it. I love it. The Surrogate daughters love it. The RLA loves it. Safe to say that it won’t win.

Brooke is horrified by Kelli’s design. “The shape is the truly unfortunate part,” she says. “It’s cheaper than I thought it would look.” And MK delivers a “slutty, slutty, slutty.” Heidi asks Kelli who should be auffed, should her team lose. Daniel.20, says Kelli without skipping a beat. Daniel2.0 is miffed, and says that he has impeccable, high-end taste, thankyouverymuch, and Kenley about pisses herself laughing out loud at him. What’s so funny,? asks Daniel2.0 with wounded dignity.

Oompa-Loompa-Licious is told that it was a leap of faith to make him the team leader, but that she, Brooke, liked how inspired he was, and how willing to take a chance. But this look is not appropriate for her character. Leanne is asked how she could have let Oompa-Loompa-Licious go so far wrong. Heidi says that the model looks like a woman who got dressed in the dark with no mirror. Schnort. And then, a miracle happens. Heidi asks the who should go question to Blayne, and he says that as a matter of integrity, he should, because he was the team leader. Well played, Oompa-Loompa-Licious.

The judges deliberate a little more, and agree that Jerell and Stella’s work was impeccable (the word of the night) and that they did a terrific job working together. Keith and Kenley made something inspired and sophisticated and completely appropriate for the show and the character. On the other hand, Daniel2.0 and Kelli did what Kelli liked. NinaGarcia is doubtful about either of them having taste. She points out that Daniel has yet to display the wonderful taste he keeps talking about. Of Oompa-Loompa-Licious, the consensus is that he’s a bratty little snot who didn’t listen, and that Leanne has lost her confidence. (And her mind, if you look at that neck warmer.)

Brooke announces Keith/Kenley the winners. Stella and Jerell come in second. Leanne and Daniel2.0 are safe. Oompa-Loompa-Licious is given a stern talking to and left in, and Kelli is sent home, but not before she delivers a sort of snotty exit interview.

Next week is the return of Chris March and the challenge to end all challenges: Dress a Drag Queen. Need I mention that my darling, dearest Paulie of the House of Gallofornia would win that with one hand tied behind his back and the other eating pie? I didn’t think so.

The RLA and I watched the opening ceremonies of the Olympics. It was an amazing feat of engineering, propaganda, visual overload and better commercials than the Super Bowl. Yeah, sure, the adorable little girl was lip-syncing because she had the face, but a less-adorable little girl had the voice. Yeah, sure, the amazing fireworks were computer generated. Yeah, sure, a lot of the costumes on the athletes during the march of the Olympians were almost as awful as the losing designs on Project Runway. And yeah, sure, the POTUS is an idiot who kept looking at his watch, and Laura has been replaced by a robot, not that anyone would notice. And, yeah, sure and really, the talking heads were way out of their depth and kept spouting some really odd things about China, about the ceremonies and about life, the universe and everything, but none of that is what made the hair on my arms stand straight up and heart leap to my throat.

Nope. What brought the chill to my very soul was the fact that none of the precision drills were done by computer. The drums, the marching, the amazing, amazing, amazing kaleidoscopic silk boxes that moved and changed in time to the music, they were all operated by individual living men (I didn’t see any women, but everybody was dressed the same and had the same haircuts, so maybe there were women in the silk boxes or banging the drums). Each act took 2008 people, and nobody worked twice. The talking heads made reference to the artistic director just shrugging off the question, and saying, “we have plenty of people”. Don’t get me wrong, I am not chilled by the sheer numbers. I am chilled by the sheer numbers working in unison with a hive mind. Yeah, this was all friendship and doves and we be one world, mon, but holy shit. If that hive mind turned to military ambition, the rest of the world could just start learning Mandarin.

The RLA didn’t see it. But that whole exercise chilled me and scared me and made me think that maybe this was a message to the globe. And then I had another revelation. With the one-child policy in force for the last thirty years or so, there aren’t any cousins. No extended families. The basic framework of China, the family and the ancestors, has been stripped away. There are no cousins. There cannot be. There are only single family units, and any devotion to anything larger has to be a devotion to the state, and there we are, back at the hive mind. The collective. The Borg. Resistance is futile. You will be assimilated.

My girl cousin admitted to a frisson of fear when the small military display goose-stepped across the field. But that was a function of the goose-step, I think, and not the implied military force. Anyway, I continue to watch, and I continue to marvel at the athletes. But when did beach volleyball become an Olympic sport? And why isn’t the Equestrian competition on a mainstream network? It’s on Oxygen, which, if I recall correctly, is pitched to women. Is it the old stereotype about girls and horses? Because in our house, it’s the RLA who’s been trying to watch the dressage and cross country.

I encourage him, of course, because I luv horsies.

Don’t ask. I got sucked into some nonsensical meme-y thing. Apparently all the kids are doing it. All I know is, I am now raising dragons. Or trying to. Will you please click on my eggs and hatchlings?

Morning has broken, and the girls are waking. Keith is showing off his tats and hard body. Kenley is interviewing that winning and having her point of view understood by people who are important in the fashion world feels good. Good lord, but this group is insipid. Putting the exclamation point on that is a brief shot of the boys’ blackboard where Oompa-loompa-licious has changed the name of his imaginary team to Sex-licious.

We trot off to Parsons for model selection and Kenley is smart enough to keep her model, Shannone, who is, hands down, the best thing on the show this season, model or designer. Heidi is wearing a wonderful, sheer grey blouse with a cascade of ruffles down the center front. I wonder if it’s one of Christian’s pieces.

The designers are sent away quickly, for yet another field trip with Tim. Joe (who is straight and has 2 daughters, remember) is whining about not knowing their destination. Tim is querying Oompa-loompa-licious about the tanning habit. Oompa-loompa-licious says that where other (more normal) people go to the gym every other day, he goes to the tanning salon. Tim points out that this is a huge time commitment. Oompa-looompa-licious is completely blasé about the whole thing, and whines a little about missing his tanning booth.

DESTINATION MOON

Or, to be more accurate, the Armory Track and Field Center, decorated with Project Runway and 2008 Olympics banners. Suede (who thankfully, does not refer to himself in the third person a single time this week, but who, unfortunately reveals other, equally annoying verbal tics) says “Oh. My. God. It’s GI-NORMOUS!!!” (pronounced with a jay and a hard i, like giant)

The designers enter the cavernous space and see a lonely speed skater whipping around the roller derby track on blade skates. He pulls up in front of them and reveals himself to be Apolo Ohno, gold medalist in the ’04 Olympics and winner of Dancing With The Stars. Apolo is as big a reality tee-vee star as he is an Olympian, and I long for the days when athletes were “just” athletes. He’s a wee little fellow, and cute as a bug’s ear. Terri interviews that the boy is HOTT and that “he sold it.” To which I can only add, no shit and duh. Apolo Ohno will also be their guest judge.

The challenge this week is create a look (women’s wear only) for the opening ceremonies where the teams walk onto the field, representing their countries. It is always a fashion show, and one of the more colorful and entertaining parts of the meet. Tim reminds the designers that their design should represent America, and that in real life, it’s a big deal. This year Ralph Lauren has designed the Americans ensembles, and in the past names like Giorgio Armani have designed for their home countries.

Daniel2.0 reveals that he has never watched the opening ceremonies of any Olympics. Oh, great.  The budget this week is $150, and they have until midnight. There is an Olypmics museum at the Armory (who knew) and the designers get to wander around for an hour or two, all by themselves, to find inspiration from the past.

In interviews, Oompa-loompa-licious says that this is “HUMUNGOUS!!!  (which should not be confused with another word for Blayne: homunculus. Joe, who is straight and has two daughters, cackles madly that this is his challenge to win or lose, as he always watches the Olympics and he’s a sportswear designer and he’s straight.

As they go through the museum, and while shopping at Mood, the designers reveal their plans. Terri is going to create something that is classic Americana sportswear (What ever that is. I have visions of square dance costumes and bad stage productions of Paint Your Wagon. I think she meant American sportswear.)

Pop quiz: who says that they will be making some thing that is “bold, fur, progressive, leatha, aerodynamic and like modern gladiators”? Yeah. Right. Stellicous.

Jerell is going back to the 1940s and 50s for suits and blazers. Daniel whines that he’s totally into glamour and that this challenge has nothing to do with him. Is it just me or is there a lot, and I mean a metric shit ton lot more whining this year than in past seasons?

Korto is going to use leather and linen. Kenley has a cobalt blue over-sized plaid. Stellicious has glommed onto some black stretch satin, which she is going to trim with red, white and blue. There is drama as Keith steals Terri’s op-art red and white chiffon. (Where the HELL is my chiffon?) Terri, who will never play to stereotype, delivers a “Oh, no, you DI’N’T!” with a tear in her eye and a straight face. Leanne or Jennifer says that Stellicious’ work looks like a “goth night club”. Stellicious is all “There’s a lot of bikers who watch the Olympics.” Which may very well be, but they are neither the sponsors of same nor are they competing in any sport. Unless boob-flashing, drinking and beating someone with bike chains become Olympic sports.

Tim makes the rounds, gives the designers until midnight to complete their looks, and adds that the winner gets immunity in the next challenge. He does not say “Make it work” but instead tells them to pull the stops out and work hard.

PUMPING IRON(ing boards)

Leanne or Jennifer says that she was a cheerleader because she was a gymnast. Joe (who is straight and has two small daughters who play softball) played football in Junior High, but then everybody else grew and so he never made it to varsity. He took up sewing instead. And yes, he’s straight. Really. Daniel2.0 is going to make a cocktail dress, because drinking (see above about the bikers) should be an Olympic sport. I concur, and there’s a sport where age would have an advantage. I could try out.

Oompa-loompa-licious makes some feeble joke about being an Olympic tanner and that the medals only go to bronze. Ha. Ha. Ha. He’s killing me here. Terri’s making a jacket, pants, bustier and a shirt or a dickie or something. Jennifer is making a little skirt and a short swing jacket with a Peter Pan collar. Stellicious gets teased about her choice of color: “Stella, are you using black because we’re in a depression?” (That, on the other hand, is funny.) No, she says, in her nasal deadpan, because it’s tuff. Keith says he’s doing something playful with fleece and silk. Sounds vaguely dirty to me.

Joe, the straight dude, spends a long time bitching about Daniel2.0 and Kenley having a good time and working together. In fact, this leads to a lot of the designers whining about Kenley’s laugh and the fact that she and Daniel2.0 are getting along. They think that these two are having altogether too much of a good time and that they have no consideration for the miserable demeanors of those around them.

Korto talks about coming to America as a refugee and how America is, to her, a land of hopes and dreams and second chances. She always watches the Olympics and she is using white because she says those teams dressed in white always pop during the opening ceremonies. There’s an awful lot of back story, and I have a moment of fear that we will be going the female circumcision route again. Thankfully, this is not so.

As we head to commercials there is another Bravo poll which ridicules Oompa-loompa-licious and Stellicious. Back in the workroom, with three hours left till midnight, Tim comes in to review. First is Joe, who is working in red, white and blue. He’s making a skort, and he’s created a red and blue zipper by taking a zipper of each color apart, then recombining them. Tim is very impressed by this little detail and says it shows some wit.

IT WAS 20 YEARS AGO

Oompa-loompa-licious is making something. He says he wants to be literal, but clearly has no idea of what literal means, because when Tim doesn’t understand and asks Oompa-loompa-licious to explain his meaning, he says it means athletic. Tim says that rather than athletic, Oompa-loompa-licious’ garment looks a little Sergeant Pepper. Cue the crickets. Oompa-loompa-licious has no idea what Tim is referring to. Tim tells him. Oompa-loompa-licious points to something and says it’s a 1930’s cardigan and Tim says no it isn’t and walks off, but not before Oompa-loompa-licious gets him to say “holla atcha boy” one more time. The surrogate daughters grab the knitting needles out of my hands before I can stab myself with them.

Daniel2.0 is concerned that his cocktail dress is looking a little Superman-ish, and Tim assures him for Olympic athletes, this is a perfectly acceptable reference. Tim is concerned, however, that Daniel2.0 is starting to over-think himself and beginning to unravel…sort of like he does every challenge. Oh, Daniel2.0, eat a cookie. Relax.

Jerell is working with a menswear suiting fabric and is using it to construct a skirt with horizontal stripes. Tim, ever so delicately, points out that they are designing for women athletes, who are muscle-y, and might not want to wear horizontal stripes. Tim thinks the whole look is veering dangerously into Lucy Ricardo-land. As he comes up to Jennifer, Tim says that her work is looking a little matronly, again. There’s a full, pleated skirt in gold and white stripes. Kenley is talking Daniel2.0 out of making a matching bolero.

We cut to the sewing room, where we see Daniel2.0 working away on a machine, surrounded by about a dozen other machines, which are not in use. Joe, who is straight and used to play football, immediately starts in on Daniel2.0 for being on HIS machine. HIS machine is HIS machine because he’s been using that particular machine for a couple of days, and furthermore, had threaded it with white thread before wandering out of the workroom to do something else. Joe, who is straight, is escalating this argument into WAHmbulance territory. Suede does not refer to himself in the third person, but does interview that fighting over machines is “whackadoodle”. MizShoes gets misty-eyed, reminiscing over the good old days when Suede referred to himself in the third person and refrained from using words like gi-normous and whackadoodle. And then, with absolutely no self-awareness whatsoever, Joe (who is straight) interviews that the reason there is SO. MUCH. DRAMA is because there are “too many queens around.”

RUN, RUN, RUN (A)WAY

It is morning in the boys’ room and Jerell is moisturizing his thighs.

It’s runway day and the tension is high in the work room. Kenley and Daniel2.0 are using the same blue fabric, but for some reason, Kenley thinks that Daniel2.0’s is going to look purple on the runway and hers won’t.  Straight Joe has gotten over his little snit enough to say that he’s going to win, because the judges are going to be looking for red, white and blue and he has a background in sportswear. That made no sense, did it?

Also making no sense is Oompa-loompa-licious, who says that Jerell’s picture hat, pencil skirt and secretary blouse look like the fashions on the Titanic. In fact, they look like Dior’s New Look, only tacky and ill-made. Oompa-loompa-licious absolutely no sense of history, fashion or otherwise. Korto says that the room looks like the past, but she looks to the future.

On the runway, Heidi is wearing something, short, shiny and tight and looking fierce. So much for NinaGarcia’s cautionary statement about that combination. We meet the judges.

Korto’s look is a nice vest with some color detail like epaulets on the shoulders and a high-waisted, very well-fitted pant with super-wide legs.

Suede’s got a micro roller skating skirt (in satin)with a racer-back top. Kelli has done something that looks like the 50s (again). Blue pencil skirt with white detailing, secretary/rockabilly blouse with a big, floppy bow.

Joe has made a nice little skort with USA actually appliquéd down the side. The two-tone zippers are a very nice detail. The consensus in the living room is that this works perfectly for the challenge.

Leanne has made some kind of shapeless white top with a huge, fluffy peplum and an ascot-looking red/white/blue collar and shorts. Daniel2.0’s cocktail dress has the buttons from Mickey Mouse’s shorts down the front and looks like a 1960s stewardess uniform. Coffee, tea, or a 100 meter dash?

Jerell has made something truly ugly and truly awful with an absolutely abominable polka-dot hat and has stuck freaking Capri-length leggings under the skirt, just to add a little sartorial insult to sartorial injury.

Stellicious’ black stretch satin looks an awful lot like the crap she made last week: there is a vest, this one belly-revealing, and with semi-cap sleeves, and skin-tight Capri-length pants/leggings with an exposed zipper accenting the crotch. She’s accessorized with an ugly pair of bronze booties from the BlueFly wall. For a hard-core rocker, this look evokes nothing more than the “bad girl” costume Olivia Newton-John wears at the end of Grease.

Keith has made a micro-bubble skirt in a navy/white plaid, and paired it with a white, hip-length sleeveless blouse that has a huge, popped color. This is accessorized with a pair of long scarves: one navy, one red.

Terri’s red, white and blue bustier barely fits, but that problem is concealed by the cascading ruffles of her ascot/dickie/scarf made of the contested chiffon (which appeared nowhere in Keith’s outfit). The white pants are fitted, and have color detailing in the outside seam. The cropped blazer is really cute. Again, the living room is happy with this look.

Jennifer’s Peter Pan-collared navy swing jacket sits over a full, pleated gold and white skirt. It is very, very preppy and very, very cute. It is had nothing at all to do with sports, unless one intends to wear it to a polo match, or to dine on strawberries and cream on the grass at Wimbledon.

Oompa-loompa-licious has cranked out yet another one-sleeved, asymmetrical snooze fest. The pants are skin-tight, the top looks like a Flashdance remake. Kenley has used her immunity in this challenge to make a high-waisted, skin-tight skirt out of her large-scale plaid, which she has sewn on the bias. There is a high-collared white top with a large collar. As the model turns around, I see that the plaid doesn’t match, or even come within a shot-put throw of matching on the center seam.

WE WHO ARE ABOUT TO DIE

Heidi calls out Suede, Kelli, Stellicious, Leanne, Keith, Blayne and Kenley. These are the designers who are safe. The surrogate daughters and I exchange incredulous looks. We want what the judges are smoking, because we can’t believe that the designers who are left represent the best and worst. But the judges say they do, so what do we know?

Terri’s work is praised by Apolo who says that the colors pop and the look is American. Michael Kors says that it’s very Lauren Hutton, 1970s. NinaGarcia says that a team dressed in that outfit would be sharply dressed, indeed.

Jennifer claims that her look was inspired by a track suit from the 20s, but Heidi says that it is neither American nor Olympian. It is not strong, nor does it exude confidence. Furthermore, it is completely missing any athletic component. Well. That’s harsh. Accurate, but harsh.

Straight Joe, on the other hand, is praised for the zipper and the little athletic details. Apolo says that the look is very body-conscious and appropriate for athletes. Straight Joe glows with pride.

Daniel2.0 says that his look is modern. Apolo says that may be, but it is not athletic, at all. NinaGarcia says that there is nothing about the look that says USA and questions the color of the fabric, which looks purple on the runway. MK delivers the best line of the night when he says that the color is the least of the dress’ problems. Where is she from? He asks, putting his note card in front of first one eye and then the other, the Republic of Cocktail Land?

NinaGarcia loves Korto’s use of the super light weight leather and linen. It is, she declares: chic. Heidi loves it, too. Apolo says that it’s unique, comfortable and very modern, very ought eight.

Jerell is wearing something ridiculous: there’s a Nehru hat with stuff on it, and combat boots with his pants legs tucked in and lots of wicketywack on him, which perfectly (?) complements the over-the-top silliness of his outfit. He claims it is unique. MK almost chokes and says something like, yuh, but not in a good way. Apolo points out that it would be more at home on a movie set than in a track and field arena. NinaGarcia calls it Mary Had a Little Lamb. MK gets the last word, and that word is meshuggana.

As the judges tally up the scores, Terri gets all of Michael Kors’ love for sportswear separates. Joe, they say, made it look easy. They all love his athletic aesthetic. There is not so much love for Jennifer. Kors’ says her look represents a prim, romantic athlete who is bashful about her body, or, in other words, Jennifer can’t get past her own issues. About Daniel, they say that if your sport is drinking, the dress was perfect. Schnort. Does this mean I get a dress?

The gold goes to Korto! Huh? What happened to all the Terri and Straight Joe love?

They get the silver and bronze. Jerell is in. Why? The bottom two designers are Daniel, who missed the concept completely and is told that his sad little purple cocktail dress was “slutty, slutty, slutty” (what about the belly-baring stretch satin from Stellicious? That wasn’t slutty enough for you?) and Jennifer, who is stuck in the past as a designer, when the whole point of this show is the future. Needless to say, Jennifer goes home. And as she leaves, she reminds us once again that she was a surrealist. Jen? Honey? Go back to art school, and figure out what Surreal means, because it isn’t a Peter Pan collar. Unless you’ve painted one onto a giraffe… in a bathtub… and called it Pan-Nationalism.

Till next week, let’s keep the scissors sharp.

I recently stumbled across the concept of Otherkins. Wikipedia has a very thoughtful and respectful explanation of what they are, or purport to be. But that’s not me. Excuse me here, but a much more convivial (to me) description is found on Encyclopedia Dramatica, which is itself a much more flippant version of Wikipedia. Allow me to offer you two quotes:

From Wikipedia:

Otherkin are a subculture of people, primarily Internet-based, who identify in some way as other than human. Otherkin often believe themselves to be mythological or legendary creatures, explaining their beliefs through reincarnation, having a nonhuman soul, ancestry, or symbolic metaphor.

Common creatures otherkin identify as include angels, demons, dragons, elves, fairies, vampires, lycanthropes, and extra-terrestrials, among others.

Outside of their own subculture, otherkin beliefs are often met with disbelief.

(You think?)

And from Encyclopedia Dramatica:

Otherkin are pseudointellectuals who believe they are reincarnations of non-humans. Similar to how all furries have their fursona as either foxes, wolves, or blobs of giant penises, most otherkin all believe they are either dragons or elves.

Otherkin differ from furries in that furries like to dress up and pretend, while otherkin believe they really are non-human and don’t usually dress up. Also furries generally pick real (usually furry) animals, while otherkin go for mythological creatures, almost always with wings.

Despite how there’s thousands of creatures from folklore and cryptozoology in cultures around the world, like the humanoid Ebu Gogo of Indonesia (proven real), every single otherkin only gets their creatures from the European mythology, and only the most popular, and only from some modern retelling of a myth that has lost all semblance to the original mythology.

At some point, otherkin lost track of what’s from mythology and what’s made up and there became otherkins based on anime characters (Otakukin) and Hubbard science fiction.

You got that? These are allegedly normal human beings, allegedly educated, and allegedly sane, who fervently believe, with their whole hearts and souls that they are really fairies, elves, centaurs, werewolves and vampires (oh, pardon me—vampyres) trapped in human form. Uh-huh. Right. And all of their past lives involve being Cleopatra or Napoleon.

Now, I’m into the arcane and the cosmic whoozitz as much, if not more, than the next fellow, but I do not believe I am an elf. Nor a fairy. Which is not to say that I don’t believe in fairies. But a five-foot six, 200 pound fairy? Who works in Hot Topics and dresses in mall-goth wear? Not so much. What’s wrong with just being different? Why do we need a second life? I have never fit in, I will never fit in. But I have never had a need to explain my otherness by being an otherkin. It’s just brain chemistry and personality and, if you need a deeper word for it, soul. OK? Just because I see things that others don’t, that doesn’t make me a fairy or possessed of anything other than very fine powers of observation. Or maybe a touch of ADD.

In any event, having heard about them, I cannot stop thinking about them. Are otherkin an American phenomenon? Because that would just reinforce my belief that we are living during the fall of Rome, when decadence rotted the empire from the inside out. Of course, I’ve been thinking that since bars started offering shots from the bartenders cleavage, or funnel shots.

Whatever.

And people, if you are going to vote that none of my suggested names for the little Screaming Yellow Smartie is any good, suggest something better in the comments. Really. I’m begging you, because I got nothing.

Finally, because it seems appropriate to this entry, and because I have no freaking idea why I got started with this: dragon eggs.

Here’s the SmartCar, looking exactly like Pikachu, which, just so you know, will not be her (or his) name. I don’t know what the name will be, and I haven’t figured out the gender, either. But so far, these are the names that are appealing to me, and they are all sort of gender neutral. Feel free to comment, and to offer your own ideas.

Doesn’t it have a cute smile?

The other night, I had one of my Bob Dylan dreams. We were hanging out, but it seemed that we’d not hung before. I was waiting for the moment when we’d be alone, or that there would be a quiet point in the conversation, where I could finally tell him that he and I had been having an affair (in my dreams) for the past 30 years, and I wanted to know if he had any inkling of it.

You follow that? In my dream, I wanted to talk about my dreams.

Last night, I had a similar dream involving why I’m so often naked in my dreams. I was explaining to one of my friends that the nudity seemed to be spilling over into my real life, which is why I wasn’t wearing clothes while we were sitting there talking.

I’m not sure if all my work on lucid dreaming is backfiring, or my brain is taking exception to my attempts to remain lucid and is working those attempts into the fabric of the dreams themselves.

It’s far to early to consider these options. I haven’t had my coffee yet.

PS: Pictures of the electric yellow Smartie to follow.

Open on boy’s dorm, morning. Daniel2.0 is sorry that Wesley’s gone, because they had a certain simpatico. Yeah, and now they’re an item IRL. In the girls’ rooms, Stella is sleeping in. Terrie’s trying to wake her up by shaking her ass in Stella’s face. I’m not too sure how that’s going to help. I mean, I’d be deeper under the covers if anybody was going ass to face on me in the dark hours of the morning.

But soon enough we are with Heidi and the velvet button bag, standing on the runway, waiting for model selection. In a moment of monumental underwhelmingness, Suede stays with TuhtuhtuhTia. Suede loves Tia. Suede loves Suede, more, though. And Suede is insisting on the third person. Heidi says that the designers (and why, this season, do I feel like that should be in quotes?) have worked hard, and as a reward, Tim will be taking them out for a night on the town. Jerell is skeptical.  Stella drones nasally that “Tim ain’t takin’ us to his house,” but hopes that there might be a club in her future. I’m hoping there’s a club in her future, too, but mine is a club made of wood and applied to her head. Or Suede’s head. Or Oompa-Loompa-Licious’ head. Yeah, I know that Asshat won my little poll, but this is my blog, and RJ has already started using Oompa-Loompa-Licious on hers, and damn it, that was MY joke. Where was I? Ah, a club to the head. And in comes Tim and there goes Oompa-Loompa-Licious, calling him Tim-Licious, and where is that club again? GAH!!!

It’s raining in New York, and Tim distributes slickers and Wellies. This concerns the “designers” who think that this is looking less and less like a decent meal and a night at the Roxbury. This group is like rockit scientists, really. The penny drops for all when they arrive at an open-roofed double-decker tour bus, and are informed that this week’s challenge will be to design a “night out on the town” garment inspired by New York City at night. There will be four stops on the tour, and at each stop, a group of designers will disembark and search for inspiration.

The first stop is Columbus Circle, and Suede, Daniel2.0, Leanne (Thing1) and Jennifer (Thing2) get off. But not like Vincent. Vincent’s looking pretty good around now, isn’t he, you Vincent haters? They take pictures of fire hydrants, planters and the steel grids around the trees, water in the gutter and litter.

The second stop is Times Square, and out jumps the jolly group comprised of Keith, Oompa-Loompa-Licious, Kenley (Thing 3) and Stella. Too bad Times Square has gotten Disney-fied, because the old Times Square of hookers, junkies, sex shows and squalor would have been like old home week for Stella. But now it’s all shiny and clean and there’s like, a Toys R Us right in the middle of what used to be a porno playground. Have I ever told the story of my first job out of college? I was doing layouts for a porno tabloid that aspired to someday be able to compete with “Screw.” Yeah. Good times. Oompa-Loompa-Licious looks for a tanning salon, and then the gang starts shooting pictures of garbage in the gutter, neon and more gutters.

Stop number three, as we head downtown, is the New York Public Library and Needle Park. I think that’s been cleaned up, too. Joe (remember Joe? He’s the straight guy with daughters?), Korto and Kelli belly up to the Grand Central Oyster Bar and ignore Patience and Fortitude (the lions in front of the NYC Library, doh). Your reviewer needs both to continue.

Finally, the bus drops the remaining crew in Washington Square Park, down in the Village, not three blocks from where Miz Shoes spent a couple of years after college. Emily (Thing4), Terrie and Jerell get busy shooting pictures of graffiti, garbage in the streets, and traffic lights.

Back up at Columbus Circle, we see that Stella can’t figure out how to use her digital camera. Here’s a clue, sweetheart: the button on the upper right hand side, on the top of the little box (point the circular piece of glass away from you) is the shutter. Just like it is on every fucking camera since George Fucking Eastman built the first Brownie. Idiot. Needless to say, Stella whines and complains throughout the night.

The Next Morning…

We meet in the workroom, where Tim says it’s time for the designers’ first trip to Mood. First, they have half an hour to edit their photos, and choose their inspirational image. Then, they will have $100 to spend at Mood. Lastly, they will have 13 hours to make the garment, and the winner will get immunity.

Oompa-Loompa-Licious is going for neon colors. Who would have guessed. Keith has chosen a tattered, trodden, sodden magazine cover for his inspiration. At Mood, Stella begins whining that nobody is helping her. She howls

at the room that there is nobody waiting on her. Let me just say that my darling, dear Paulie of the House of Gallofornia would not only be able to find materials in Mood or any other fabric shop. He also knows how to use a digital camera. I know, I know, let it go, already.

Emily (Thing4) is looking for chiffons to add movement, like the blurry lights in her picture. Jennifer is working from photos of world clocks and is pulling midnight blue and white charmeuse. Terrie says that she’s found all the colors she needs on a single bolt. She’s working from graffiti. Because she’s all urban, hip-hop and shit. Of course. Because she’s not working any stereotypes.

Back at the Parson’s workroom, Suede interviews that Suede is here to rock it. Suede accents that with finger guns. Alas, they are neither pointed at his own head, nor loaded. Kenley (Thing3) is going to do something retro and 40s and pin-up. I know, who would expect that look from a Betty Page clone, huh? Joe looks over, sniffs dismissively and says it looks too 40s for his taste.

Leanne (Thing1) has chosen to focus on a metal grate in a planter. It’s (she claims) both organic and architectural. I’d like to see her definitions, please. In yet another shocking development, she is going to execute this look with more of her signature, overlapping semi-circular flaps. She needs a catchy name. Something like, say, fleurchons?

One of the Things looks up from her sewing to find Oompa-Loompa-Licious staring at her with googly Muppet eyes. They are his, not ping-pong balls with dots, but one could be forgiven for making that mistake. ThingWhatever sort of freaks out, and Oompa-Loompa-Licious intones that he’s “gonna eat you!” Oompa-Loompa-Licious is the hardest working fame whore in reality TV today, hands down.

Over at Keith’s workstation, we see him making Post-It notes out of print fabric, and he’s applying them to a basic sheath, while he talks about his background as an abstract artist. Terrie is blahblahblahing about her graffiti. Thing4 (Emily) is talking about ruffles and layers. Stella has chosen, out of however many photos she was able to take, the blinder on one of the horses that draws carriages. Because, as Stella herself explains, it’s LEATHER. She is wearing a stupid, twee (and of course, leather) hat. We see her hammering grommets, while the other designers complain of the noise and she tells them to fuck themselves.

In The Midnight Hour

Daniel2.0 thinks that Thing2’s clock inspiration looks matronly. Thing2, may I remind you, is the one who keeps saying that she’s Holly Golightly meets Salvador Dali. Did she sleep through art history classes? Because I’m beginning to think that she has mistaken Salvador Dali for Thomas Kinkaid.

Tim is in the house, making the rounds. He asks Keith if the Post-It note dress will have a shape. Or, even, get fitted. He tells Thing3 that her dress looks a little costume-y. A little? Honeychild, that thing would be at home on a Cirque Du Soleil clown. Terri, not playing to stereotypes at all, blahblahblahs about street culture, and her urban aesthetic. She’s making a dress with no back to go over a pair of black slacks. It looks like a dress from the front, but from the back, it’s Oh My God. Tim asks if that would be a good OMG or a bad OMG. 

Tim makes it over to Thing4’s station and tells her that it’s just a dress with a big corsage. Take it further, he says. The judges will be disappointed with this. Thing4 proves that she’s never seen a single episode of this show by interviewing that she has her own sense of style and design, and that Tim means well, but should just shut it and let her do her own thing.

There is a moment, as Tim’s about to leave, where Oompa-Loompa-Licious and Terrie conspire to teach Tim how to say “Holla atcha boy” without sounding like a white guy. It is not pretty. It does not work. It is the designers being way too familiar with Gunn, the Great and Powerful.

And with that fetid footage, we cut to the morning of the show. Stella has dolled herself up in those Dr. Seuss on bad acid striped leggings. Pretty. At the Parsons’ workroom, nobody is even close to finished. As the models arrive for hair and makeup, Keith learns that his model had to drop out, and so he gets the girl who just got cut, Alyssa. Keith is not happy.

Thing2 realizes that her seams are shitty. There are 10 minutes to go, designers are gluing, stapling, and sewing their girls into the clothes as Tim moans that nobody is even listening to him, and that IT. IS. TIME. TO. GO!! NOW!!!! Daniel2.0 is searching for his scissors and that naked bitch is still at the airport in the damn BlueFly ad. Check for your scissors in her heart, I may have left them there, Dan2.0

Back on the runway, we are introduced to our guest judge for the New York at Night challenge. It is Sandra Bernhard. Girlfriend was never pretty, in any sense of the word, but age is not being kind to her. Remember Hatchetface? Yeah. That’s Sandra today. Even though it’s completely counter-intuitive to think this, she actually seems to have a fair handle on fashion and style. Go figure.

Keith sends out his patchwork Post-It dress. It has texture and movement, he says. Oompa-Loompa-Licious sends out something black with swaths of neon colors. It looks like everything else he’s done, more or less. Joe’s dress is minimal and well constructed, and holds true to his picture of an Art Deco light fixture. Thing4’s dress is a tiny, tight sheath (in black) with a semi-diagonal waterfall of lots of ruffles. In colors. Like the blurry neon lights in her photo. Thing1 has a steel grey version of her concentric flaps. Thing2’s dress looks to me like it came off the Titanic. It is a maternity-dress-like silhouette that evokes the fashions of the 1910s.

Jerell has made a moss-green flamenco dress with a train. Kelli’s dress is actually pretty amazing. There is lace? or some open-weave material. It’s chunky, and there’s some metallic fabric around the waist. Kelli has accessorized with gladiator sandals that actually are appropriate in context and cute. Daniel2.0 has made a drapey, one shouldered disco dress out of bronze metallic fabric. It’s a snooze. Thing3 (Kenley) has made a dress out of my Great Aunt Sophie from Boca’s couch circa Miami Vice. It’s an aqua and black and purple large-scale floral print. It has leg-o-mutton sleeves and a tight little mock turtle neck, and a short, tight skirt. Except for the enormous pouf of tulle in layers of raspberry, pink and purple that escapes from an equally enormous slit on the left hip. It looks like a giant tulle cyst.

Suede has made a boring, metallic, sleeveless shirtdress with overtones of a trench coat. Stella has finally made the one ensemble she’s been trying to make since she got here: a skin tight, sleeveless vest in silver leather with a pair of skin tight, low-riding leather pants. The pants are overly long and open and the ankle with snaps or grommets or something, and close with a lace instead of a zipper. Korto has slept through this exercise and made a racer-backed black jumpsuit. Terrie has a chiffon dress with no back (at all) it’s like this monstrosity, only busier:

You’ll Find Out When You’re On the Top You’re On the Bottom

Keith, Kenley (Thing3), Emily (Thing4), Terrie, Jennifer (Thing2) and Leanne (Thing1) are the tops and bottoms. Probably more literally than we care to consider. And then, the judges judged, and I think that they were all doing crack. Or thorazine. Because:

Kenley (Thing3) shows a photo of a blue and orange tile wall that was the inspiration for her aqua/magenta/black dress. Sandra says that the pouf would be great if she had a goiter or a growth that needed hiding. Michael Kors points out that the whole look is very “Joan Collins 1980s power bitch” but a young woman who’d never seen it before might love it. NinaGarcia claims that it’s very LaCroix, darling, and that it is adorable.

The RLA and the surrogate daughters and I all look at each other and ask: What the fuck are they seeing that we aren’t? That shit is hideous!

Keith is taken to school by MK, who sniffs that his little Post-It note dress looks like nothing more than “toilet paper caught in a windstorm.” NinaGarcia says that it is sloppy and unpolished.

Terrie’s backless chiffon is pronounced “fierce, sexy and in control. If you met that girl on a dark alley, she could cut a bitch” by Miss Bernhard. Who would know, if you get my drift. Heidi thinks it’s cool and MK declares that this is a girl you’d want to know.

Emily (Thing4) has taken a time-exposure of lights. It’s all blurry and jaggedy, sort of like the ruffles on her dress. Sandra says that if it were flatter, say, fabric inserts or appliqué, that it might have works. NinaGarcia just says it’s a Carmen Miranda moment. And MK gets in the last lethal word: “This explosion of ruffle is not placed fabulously.”

Leanne (Thing1) and her planter grate are lauded as “cool” by Sandra, while Michael is in love with it being separates. Heidi says that it looks like it came out of a store today and that she’d wear it in the proverbial New York minute.

The word for Jennifer (Thing2)’s navy blue sack is Matronly. NinaGarcia says that it’s OK, but boring.

Finally, we get to the judges’ confabulation. Terrie wins love from everyone. Kenley is praised for the energy she brought to her creation. There were lots of elements and they all worked (for whom, I wonder, idly. It still looks like Miami Vice-era sofa cushions from a Boca townhouse.) Michael is thrilled with how quickly Thing 1 learned to edit herself. Michael doesn’t mention that it’s the same damn trick pony. NinaGarcia says about Thing2 (Jennifer) I have nothing to say. Michael, Heidi and Sandra all giggle and say that’s the most damning thing NinaGarcia could say. Keith’s dress is once more declared to be toilet paper by Michael and nobody disagrees.

The poll that Bravo put up (Should Holla Atcha Boy be Tim’s new catch phrase?) shows that more viewers of this show have brains than we’d been led to believe, as a full 87% shriek NO, it should not.

Terrie is in. What the fuck? All those positive vibrations, and all she gets is “IN”? Kenley wins with the cystic purple pouf and Great Aunt Sophie’s sofa cushions. I want what the judges were drinking. And does this mean that I have to remember Kenley as different from Thing 1 and Thing 2? Kenley is thrilled and says that she’s never won anything major in her life. I turn to the Surrogate Daughters and say, “well, she surely didn’t win anything major when she got that voice.”  Leanne (Thing1) is in, and Keith is in.

Thing2 and Thing4 are left standing side by side on the runway, their sad little creations by their sides. Jennifer (Thing2) is totally called out for claiming her “Holly Golightly meets Salvadore Dali” sensibility, but showing matronly and boring. Emily (Thing2) was told she had no design voice, and her ruffle was distracting and a cliché. So, who stays and who’s auf? WRONG!

I told you I wanted what the judges were drinking. Despite universal loathing for her work, despite the fact that NinaGarcia didn’t even want to think about it enough to talk about it, Jennifer (Thing2) is left in the game for another week, and Emily goes home. In a beaded headband that has a faint whiff of circa 1970s Cher, what with it looking like Native American beadwork in black, red and white and all.

And with that, another week of Project Runway comes to an end. I may begin a drinking game next week; one which involves a shot of tequila every time that dreadful, little orange troll utters the sylables “licious.” Let’s pray I don’t die of alcohol poisoning.

Yeah, I know. A shiny, happy post early in the day from MizShoes? Let’s check to make sure the sun is still in the sky and the earth is still on its axis. Yep. Everything seems to be in order in the universe. So what got me going today?

Him. This random fellow who got on the train with his violin, sat down in the middle of the aisle and proceeded to deliver a fair rendition of Mozart’s “Eine Kleine Nachtmusik” followed by “Yesterday” and “Hey Jude”. I started the applause and the handing of bills to him, and he told the car that he took change, too. A gentle soul and one who brought a little rainbow glimmer of joy to me.

Tonight I’m making an asparagus risotto, or an asparagus pasta dish. I haven’t decided yet. But I have some lovely bamboo rice, and I’m thinking that a green risotto might be the ticket.