It's been almost a year since my last "Project Runway" recap. So much has changed. Barack Obama is president. Michael Jackson is dead and buried. And "Project Runway," the show Bravo built, was exiled to Lifetime. (Shall we call it television for women and trannies now?) My fingers trembled as I clicked the remote. My eyes watered during the opening credits. I told myself everything would be OK when I saw Tim Gunn. But the similar color scheme, sponsors and music didn't ease my fears that the network that's made too many bad made-for-TV movies would tarnish my precious "P. Runway."
Meeting the new cast didn't stop my quiet weeping. It was the typical parade of semi-coherent metrosexual/hipster arteests who may or may not already own boutiques or have names that make it through spell check. (Ra'mon-Lawrence, Qristyl, Gordana, Malvin= Fail). Everyone seems to be 23 and over dramatic, except Epperson. (Who I'm naturally rooting for.) There are also (how to be tactful?) interesting personal style choices. (Malvin's mohawk on 'roids, Ari's M.I.A. onesies and Louise's Kenley-esque timewarp) Where do they find these people? Urban Outfitters, Ikea, some "vintage" shop, Jupiter? It only took about 10 minutes for me to spot tears. At least I wasn't the only one clutching Kleenex. Read more on the jump.
The situation went from bad to worse when the contestants tried to convince eachother that Los Angeles is even a fraction as fashionable as New York City. (What have these people been smoking? Johnny's secret meth stash? More on that in a minute.) The city's stupor and smog seemed to be affecting hosts Gunn and Heidi Klum, too. (Or was it the champagne on the roof? Or was it Johnny's secret meth stash again?) Gunn managed to inform the designers that they would be working at FIDM. (You know, that amazing institution of higher learning that Lauren Conrad took some classes at once?)
The next day, Gunn greeted the giddy gaggle on red carpet for the 60th Primetime Emmy Awards (You know, the ones that took place a year ago? Can this show be any more out of touch?) The group was told to design a "red carpet look that represented them as a designer." Commence more strange behavior and "sketching." Then, five minutes in, Johnny suffered a breakdown. He ranted, cried, blamed his "former meth addiction" for his designer's block and beseeched Gunn for help. Then, after a getting enough attention, he was miraculously healed. (OK, Johnny, you played your sympathy card early and if you ever pull it out again I hope you get booted back to the mean streets of West Hollywood along with guest judge Lindsay Lohan.)
Most of the designers sent some kind of flowing satin evening gown down the runway to "represent" them. Ari chose a "halter diaper"/"disco soccer ball" and got cut, even though she kind of looked like Lohan's g/f and Mitchell sent his model out nude. Christopher won with his funky, architectural party dress. (OK, Christopher, you played your party dress card early and if you ever pull it out again I hope you get booted back to the mean streets of West Hollywood along with Lohan...and Ari.) Despite my best efforts to hate everything I saw last night (don't even get me started on the foolishness called "Models of the Runway") I did like Ra'mon, Althea, Carol Hannah and Epperson's designs. I just can't wait until more of the hacks around them hit the road.
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