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.