Thursday, January 10, 2008

Project Runway - Episode Seven

This week, Heidi tells the contestants that they'll be designing something for an important occasion in a woman's life. Just as moaning and groaning over the possibility of having to design wedding gowns starts, out walk their models--girls from St John Vianney High School.

It's time for Prom! (Kayne, are you out there?)

Ah, Prom. Let me pause here to wax all poetical-like about that time of my life. I went to a Catholic high school too. An all-girl Catholic high school, to be exact, with nary a y-chromosome in sight - apart from a couple of dykey-looking types in band class. (Thinking back, there was one gal two grades ahead of me who was a dead ringer for Christian, without the Flock of Seagulls hair. She was also a tad less girly.) There wasn't a lot of opportunity for me to meet guys. Oh, there was a boy's HS nearby, but I didn't have a particularly high opinion of that place. The extra-dorky boys went there. Anyhoo...when it came time for my ring dance, in Junior year, I invited a boy whom I knew from grade school. Yes, he went to that boy's school, but I knew him from an earlier time and that absolved him from his sins. We had fun at the ring dance, so I later invited him to my prom. He declined because he was allegedly dating someone else (translation: "I can't be seen with a fat girl again, no matter how attractive, witty, and charming she may be."). That killed my dreams of wearing a coveted Gunne Sax gown and doing yet another slow dance to "Stairway to Heaven." Ok, I'll admit I wasn't all that disappointed.

Flash forward fifteen years - I was working in a jewelry store. Mr. Shattered-Prom-Dreams came in to pawn his wedding ring. He didn't recognize the skinny hot chick who waited on him, and when I told him who I was, his jaw literally dropped, cartoon-style. When he finished drooling, he gave me his number.

Fat me wasn't good enough for him, and he wasn’t good enough for skinny me.

Back to the exciting PR action. The action nonetheless.

The idea of designing prom gowns was just as dispiriting as wedding gowns. But the contestants perked up a little when they heard that the girls had seen their portfolios and chosen their designer personally. Any little ego boost will do sometimes. Chris, whose portfolio is (really quite unsurprisingly) full of shots of him wearing extremely theatrical drag (seen at right, photos unashamedly lifted from wondered why the little darling would deliberately choose him.

All of the girls seemed quite sweet. Except Christian's. We'll call her Promzilla.

Poor little Shih Tzu didn't take anything about this challenge particularly well. That made for plenty of amusing lines from the little feller.

"Prom is horrible and tacky and gross." and "I was best-dressed at the prom."

Tacky and gross but you went anyway, huh?

After meeting with his sassy and strong-willed young client, Christian curled up in a fetal position on the floor, "I want to cry."

Later he states the very awwww-inspiring, "I'm not feeling fierce right now."

And still later, while fretting that his client wants entirely too much ticky tacky stuff on her dress, "I cannot let a 17-year-old girl overpower me." (Oh, honey, she's only a handful of years younger than you, and could probably take you with one hand behind her back.)

As usual, nobody else seems to be experiencing as much drama, although we did get our weekly dose of tears from Ricky. The girls even brought their mothers in for a fitting, producing surprisingly little sturm und drang.

Sweet P was determined to win this competition. Her prom-goer wanted something white, with both a plunging neckline and low back. She got something less-extreme that was very mature and sophisticated, with necklines more appropriate for a snot-nosed kid.

Ricky: Just a big bag of blah. The color washed out his model, and the sewing was suspect. This photo doesn't make the dress look as bad as the runway did. The bubble skirt wasn't bubbling properly, and the bodice above the belt looked odd.

Rami goes back to episode one's draping to create a goddess-style dress. Although there was no arguing about the gorgeous finishing, the look was deemed matronly by the judges (Every time Heidi introduces Michael Kors, it sounds like she says "tough designer, Michael Korsss," but I think she actually says, "top.")

Mr Minx was reminded of the Star Trek episode, "Mudd's Women."

Kit: Rainbow Brite goes to the prom. I suppose the shape is ok, but there's just too many colors going on in a not particularly sophisticated way. Reminds me of one of those old color TV test patterns running across her boobs.

Chris: Can I tell you how much I LOVE LOVE LOVE this dress? The color is glorious, the style is elegant and flattering, and the drape is magnificent. No be-pretzel'd Valkyries here, just a happy client.

Jillian: There's something very Donna Pescow 70s disco about this dress. I really don't like it at all. Not a fan of the seafoam green.

Christian's Promzilla had a little 'tude and gave lots of unwanted input on her dress. Hard to work with someone who is as annoying as you are, huh, Chrissy-poo? Although she would be a pitbull to your Shih Tzu.

There's more than a bit too much going on here. So the client is tacky - doesn't mean her dress has to be. I do like the color though - it blends in with her skin and adds a bit of subtlety to all the beads and lace and crap.

Always one to lend support, Tim Gunn tells a depressed Christian, "I don't hate it. I see you in this." That's funny - me too!

It makes you look a Stick with vests, hon.

Victorya, color her victorious (or should that be Victoryous?) for her bright, happy, and very youthful dress. Although the gems are a little large for my taste, they add just the right something to the sea of blue. And that's a bubble skirt done right.

Kevin, ah Kevin. I thought you would hang around for a few more weeks, maybe make it to the final 4, but you blew it with this unflattering number. Is it the dress, or are her boobs oddly-shaped? While the flippy skirt would have worked nicely on a skinny girl, this chick had meat on her bones and a longer, narrower silhouette may have been more appropriate. Or it may have worked better in a less-bordello-ish color. I think the unfinished hem was the least of your worries.

Sayonara, straight man. You're talented, but you couldn't make it work this week.


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