Tuesday, September 28, 2010


It’s no big secret that I lurv my sister. Love, love, lurv her.

And to celebrate the day of her birth some twenty-murmur-murmur years ago, she came to see me! Winner. Sister time and I don’t have to drive anywhere. That’s the definition of “success.” But she didn’t just come to see me. I’m a Broadway in Birmingham patron now (heck yeah I am!), and we had our first musical of the season. So Sister came for a weekend chock full of cupcakes, awesome food and musicals.

Quick rundown of Food Weekend:

Silver Coin Indian Grill (nom, nom, curry nom)

Edgar’s cupcakes (the Birmingham standard of delicious baked goods)

Homewood Gourmet (Inside was a little awkwardly quiet and small, but move yourself to the patio and all you’ve got is awesome food to distract you. Mmmm.)

Dreamcakes cupcakes (Did you seriously think we would only have one variety of cupcake for Sister’s big weekend? And I almost hate to say it, but…Move over Edgar’s, there’s a new cupcake sheriff in town. Holy eff yum.)

Surin (About time I made the trip. Now I’m wondering what took me so long because there is a roll that not only comes with tempura shrimp…and cream cheese, but also panang curry sauce. Jesus Christ. Mother Mary. Wunderbar.)

Yogurt Mountain (Um. Self serve giant fro yo bar. What’s not perfect about that?)

Another Broken Egg Café (I love brunch. And I love the Jewish people for constructing bagels topped with cream cheese and smoked salmon. Whoever decided on that combo deserves a mini muffin basket courtesy of yours truly.)

Musical Rundown:

Legally Blonde was absolutely adorable. So cute. So fun. So pink. Kristin Chenoweth would be the perfect Elle. (Granted, she could probably only get away with being Elle’s spunky aunt now, but still. When Chenoweth was 20 this would’ve been her part, man.) Oh, and our seats rule. Center. Orchestra. Boom, outta here.

But we didn’t just eat and sing. We Creeked. Creeked? What’s Creeked? Let me explain.

The first two seasons of Dawson’s Creek were on sale at Target and…Um. I couldn’t say no. I’m a sucker for cheap TV. And old school WB. Sister and I sailed through the first season this weekend and it was pure awkward magic. We’ve decided that a drinking game must be formulated. Partake every time Joey shrugs, Dawson flops on a piece of furniture, someone says “virgin” or whenever you hide behind your hands in embarrassment by proxy. You’d be shitfaced after the first episode. Pretty much the best money I ever spent.


Friday, September 24, 2010

Well...Swatch Looked Good

Oh dear-hearts, what is this show coming to? First of all, the producers totally screwed up the timing of the episode because apparently it was Halloween on Project Runway this week.

Gretchen came as Pippi Longsucking

Andy showed up as Mulan.

And Mondo dressed as a six-year-old lesbian.

Oh, and Swatch came to the party disguised as adorable num nums.

But seriously…Back to the show. We have a crazy unique challenge to unfold (*cough*yeahright*cough*). Collier Strong is in the workroom and that can only mean one thing: L’Oreal has new eyeshadow to peddle and this is where that nifty makeup room gets paid for. Hey, 90 minute commercials cost a lot, yo. Each designer has to pick a type of shadow finish, design a “high fashion” look based on that finish (Time out: You’re on a design show. Do you really ever want to produce anything that’s low fashion? Or moderate fashion? Just sayin… Time in.), and the winner will have their design featured in a L’Oreal advertorial (Ad speak for “having to pay for a story to be published in a magazine because the pub won’t actually write an article about you based on their own free will.”) and $20,000. Now, the cash is nice. Winner, winner.

We come to find that all the designers are poor (Um, surprise surprise?). Gretchen has collection agents hounding her. Maybe she should stop buying python leggings. That would save some cash.

April just wants a little pony. God, I love her more and more each episode.

Anyway, the designers pick their eyeshadow inspiration and that’s the last time that choice is relevant or referred to for the rest of the competition.

Mondo and Ivy go for “bright.” Christopher and Valerie opt for “crystal.” April wants “matte” (and a little pony). Michael (aw. “Just Michael”.) and Andy pick “metallic,” and Gretchen is the lone designer to fall for “velvet.” They've got two days (TWO DAYS!) to make it happen. Then the Lord of Textiles declared his mignons go forth and make shit. And it was done. And it was shitorious.

With $300 bucks in hand, the designers storm Mood in search of their vessels of couture horror. Ivy has actually decided to use color. *Gasp* Well clutch my pearls...But she's worried about it. Because it's not the hue of margarine. Ugh. Valerie has chosen silk. But. "Silk is hard. Cutting silk is hard. Everything with silk is hard." And all I can think is..."I keep taking the test over and over again. But I'm all like, this is hard?"

Sir Duke of Windsor Knots and Magniloquent Vocabulary enters the workroom and...Is it just me or was it a whirlwind critique? I didn't pick up on too much. Valerie's was "ambitious." He told Mondo to "go big." Andy had a talking head over April's Tim Time, so I don't know what was said about hers. Gretchen's caftan (Who wants to wear a caftan anyway? Do you also have 18 cats and house shoes to go with that massive mistake?) looks like a robe. Because it is.

But it doesn't really matter if Sir Gunn's critiques were quick this week because I got to see this:

The "I think your lackluster dress-made-of-waves story is full of horse shit, Ivy" Stink Eye. *Swoon*

It seems just as Tim left the room he returned; He has an annoucement that has even taken him aback. Uh-uh-uh there's a twist?? Who'da thunk it. Of course there's gonna be a twist. Have they seen this show before? In addition to their high fashion look, they most also provide a corresponding ready to wear piece. (Hey, Project Runway. Christian Siriano called. He wants his season back.) I mean really...They should have been ready for this all along.

In the midst of the mouths-agaped-workroom-crisis, Valerie has a meltdown. Her dresses suck. The waterworks kick in. She escapes to bathroom. Wah, wah, wah. She's gotta put on her big girl pants or I'm gonn sock her in the mouth.

Anway, whether the designers like it or not, runway day is upon them and it's time for the weekly parade of crap. And oh, it is indeed spectacular this week.

But first. Um. Andy? What troll at Garnier gave you stick-in hair extensions? Between that and the gloves he looks like Michael Jackson meets Asian Reporter Tricia Takanawa meets Boy George meets Avatar.

Tell me it's not true. No, seriously. Try. Ya can't, can you? Told you so.

Alrighty enough jibber jabber. On to the runway.

The Forgotten


Oh good God. So so many things ran through my head as this aberration came down the runway. Ballerina! Ice dancer! Toilet paper! Kleenex coozie! It's nothing but a swaddled, horrific disaster. The R2W is a nothing sort of a dress. It's channeling Ivy. It might as well not exist. This should have been bottom-bound and I'll fist fight with anyone who disagrees.


I actually really liked April's dresses this week. I would have liked them a lot more had I not already seen them in six other challenges, but whatever. I mean, is that R2W look not an exact replica of last week's dress? The answer, in case you're searching for it, is yes. April, you shall be deemed to mediocre-hood if you don't branch out, and you better do it soon.

The Lowly Bottomfeeders

Yikes. It's just sad. And boring. And derivative. And boring. Plus, um. How are these two looks at all related? They look like they wouldn't even come in the same Sear's line. You have some major ground to cover next week, Val, because after the past two catastrophes and your wimpy reality show martyr speech, I'm *this* close to being A OK with you going home.

Just Michael

That hem. And that train. Are. Wack-a-doo. The rest isn't that bad. They're both well made, and he actually stuck to his "metallic" theme. Oh, and his R2W dress is pretty cute. Heidi's critique of the R2W was that you can't have both legs and boobs. She doesn't know where to look. You must pick one as to not confuse her eyes. Heids...You are not allowed to speak.

What up Legs-Boobs McGee.

The Contenders


Shut your face. It is dumpy and once again, offensive. To. My. Eyes. She looks like a flapper grandma. And her ready to wear is not at all related to the high fashion piece. Ugh. She has designed for Maude. Loathe.


It's as if his model has walked through a minefield of Chinese lanterns. His boots have flippers.

Um, he just stole one of April's dresses for his ready to wear. What of it?

Winner, Winner. So Nice They Named it Twice


Look at you, Like-a-Monkey Mondo taking home a second win! I'll say somthing about Mondo. His stuff always looks a little wacky. But I like it. The wack works. Oh, and it looks like Phillip Treacy isn't the only one who can make a hat. Although, I will say there is no forgiving that black panel in his high fashion look. It's too short and sloppy looking. But his R2W is adorable. Love. Again, this was an obvious win. You enjoy that $20,014 in your bank account, buddy!

The Cancelled

Bah ha! YES! Looks like the Ivy Show could only make it through half a season. Hope you and your ill-fitting-awkward-bust-line bridal wear like the taste of defeat. I'm not even going to elaborate. I'm just going to sit back and bask in the fact that PR is one wench down. Only one more to go. We shall prevail!

I hope April gets her little pony.

Wednesday, September 22, 2010

Olly, Olly Oxen Free!

Alright kids, looks like Lovely Lacey over at Southern in the City tagged me playground-style in a little question-o-rama, and I in turn am to come up with another eight questions and play my own little version of blogging Red Rover, so let’s get to it, shall we?

If you had to choose one, what reality show would you go on and why?

Oo, well. Hrm. As a connoisseur of reality programming, I’ve developed a refined palate for enjoyable viewing. The Real World is out because, well. That hasn’t been relevant to me since 2002. Maybe not even since the Seattle season… Survivor is a no go because like I’ve said before: Mellie = “indoorsy.” I’m not tan enough for Jersey Shore. Not talented enough for So You Think You Can Dance. Too talented for Dancing with the Stars. Too smart for the Bachelor. Too judgmental and conservative dressing for Project Runway…Think that leaves me with Top Chef. Yep, if I were more skilled in the kitchen I’d definitely go with Top Chef. Padma’s a winner; Tom’s a fox (or bear, whatevs), and it’s a recent Emmy winner. Yep. Take that Hell’s Kitchen.

What is one landmark in the world you hope to one day see one day?

You know, there’s still so much that I haven’t seen, but I think I’ve gotta check the Grand Canyon off my list. Yes, am muy “indoorsy,” but I can still appreciate the great outdoors and what not. And seriously, in the words of Marv of the Wet/Sticky Bandits, “Whoa! What a hole.”

What has been your favorite vacation ever?

Well, the favorite vacation is yet to come. And technically it’s still a hypothetical, but Sister and I have talked of a long New York theater weekend. Four days chock full of Broadway and an Adam Richman/Stanley Tucci hunt. Ok, Sister hasn’t been made aware of the latter yet, but I’m gonna find one of those kids and marry him.

If you were to start your own restaurant, what would it be called and what would you make?

The Pie Hole. Yes, I'm stealing from Pushing Daisies, and if that gets me one step closer to the Pie Maker and Kristin Chenoweth, I'm OK with that. Plus Ma Jo hates that expression, and watching her cringe is a favorite past time of mine. Ma and Sister dream of opening a bakery, so I'm staying away from the baked goods territory, but pie. Pie is totally different. And I do love pie.

What's the most embarrassing CD you have in your collection?

Besides all of my musicals? I also have celebrity interviews from NPR that I’ve downloaded and burned, and I’m pretty sure I still have Billy Ray Cyrus (Some Gave All) and Trisha Yearwood (The Song Remembers When) in the back sleeve of my CD book. I'm not ashamed. Ok, maybe I am.

You can only eat 5 different foods for the rest of your life, what are they?

"That's easy. Pez. Cherry flavored Pez." (Can anybody name that reference? Come on, who wants to be my newest movie quoting buddy??) But seriously: Hmmm. This is a hard one. Ok here goes.

1. Any sushi roll with cream cheese and ideally tempura fried.
2. Edgar's cupcakes
3. Nutella
4. Chicken salad
5. Onion rings

I will also be the size of a house.

What's the one movie you could watch over and over?

It's a Wonderful Life. Cry every time. No seriously, every. Time. If you don't...I'm pretty sure you're dead inside.

What is the most exciting experience you've had so far in your life?

Oh gosh, I don't know...I'm quite dull. Um--Maybe finally getting a job? And a paycheck. And insurance. After months and months of job hunting failure. Yeah, that was pretty exciting.

As far as my new batch of questions, I'm channeling James Lipton channeling Bernard Pivot (Or more appropriately I'm actually probably channeling Will Ferrell channeling James Lipton channeling Bernard Pivot). So go ahead and picture yourself in front of an audience of desperate actors and a bearded wonder with a stack of blue cards next to you, because you're bout to be on the Actors Studio. (As far as the tagging goes, I say: If you read me. You're it. Got a blog? Copy and paste, my friend. No blog? That's what the comments section is for.)

And because I'm even more of a rebel, you get ten questions, not eight. What? You didn't think I would disrespect Ferrell-Lipton-Pivot, did you?

1. What is your favorite word?
2. What is your least favorite word?
3. What turns you on? (creatively, spiritually, emotionally)
4. What turns you off?
5. What is your favorite curse word?
6. What sound or noise do you love?
7. What sound or noise do you hate?
8. What profession other than your own would you like to attempt?
9. What profession would you not like to do?
10. If Heaven exists, what would you like to hear God say when you arrive at the Pearly Gates?

Tuesday, September 21, 2010

I've Got a Whole Box of "It's Not Gonna Work Out"

Last week I got a chance to see one of my besties. One of my lurvs. One of my fellow Harry Potter Musical quoters. One of my other halves floating around out there. After watching her kick some major racquetball ass (no seriously, she’s a rock star), we went the Rinc (The only Mexican place in Tuscaloosa. Ok, ok, the only one that matters.), and over a couple of cactus-stemmed margarita glasses we had the talk. The “single girl trying to put herself out there talk.” But of course since it was us, there was no crying. No moping. Just fits of laughter and elaborate hand gestures which result in the flinging of straws from said cactus marg glasses.

I guess it all got started when Miss A decided she needed to get married stat because there’s some hella cute Bama babywear out right now. Ah, yes, nothing like a ticking uterus to kick the quest for your life mate into high gear. It was decided that if she absolutely had to have the houndstooth onesie…Because she knew with all her heart that she’d never find a onesie more perfect than this onesie, that she could buy it. And keep it in a box. Hidden deep in her closet. That she’ll never speak of until she is in fact in labor with future child. Because let’s face it, the whole casual dating thing leads to an arsenal of “It’s just not going to work out,” “I don’t feel the chemistry,” “I don’t think I’m ready," "It's not you, it's me" excuses, and if something like this…That you have a stash of Alabama-centric baby gear hoarded away…comes out in conversation, you might as well call it quits and declare, “I’ve got a whole box of it’s not gonna work out,” cut your losses and run. And thus our motto for the evening was formed.

So Singletons, (or former Singletons) let’s have a little honesty. What is (was) your whole box of “not gonna work out”? Is it a baby clothes collection? Or something more along the lines of what’s in my box…?

*My need to buy cheap retro movies because I know, inevitably, I will want my future children to watch them (i.e. Milo and Otis, Muppets Take Manhattan, the made-for-TV-people- version of Snow White, the Emperor’s New Clothes [yes, the one with Sid Caesar. Think Sunday Night Disney circa 1989])

*Cat. No really. Need I say more?

*My inability and unwillingness to share. Food, TV, bed, downtime. All the most important things. They are mine and there’s no room for anyone else on a regular basis.

*A collection of nightgowns (mostly given to me by my mother), which have long been deemed my own unique variety of birth control by one of my other other halves

Ok, I spilled. Your turn.

On a totally separate note, who’s pumped for Premiere Week? We’ve already jumped into the new Dancing with the Stars (told ya I wouldn’t miss it. And The Situation, Hoff and Dur da Dur Palin did not fail to disappoint). Tonight we’ve got Glee (Gleeeee!), Parenthood (but major catching up to do first) and Biggest Loser on deck. Wednesday is Hell’s Kitchen, Modern Family and the culmination/reunion of Top Chef and the continuation of Top Chef: Just Desserts. Thursday’s packed with Community, perhaps $#*! My Dad Says (although, I’m not trusting new CBS comedies. Mike and Molly was a big tankeroo, flush pocket last night. Woof.), the Office, more Project Runway and the popular trio Grey’s-Private Practice-30 Rock that I’m not into, but to each her own. And on HBO we've got the new Boardwalk Empire and the return of Bored to Death. Whooo.

Am I missing anything? Hurry before little DVR gets too worn out. (He really needs a name, doesn’t he? Yeah, while you’re telling me what’s in your box, give my lil buddy a name, would ya? K, thanks.)

Friday, September 17, 2010

If Jackie O came back as a tranny...

...She’d totally be all up in this cluster of a runway. Holy moly. Well, let us begin where all past tragedies have begun: At the beginning. In the Atlas apartments…

The morning wake up routine ensues. Michael C is still talking. Andy is still bored. Once again, he does not live up to his hairstyle. The chicks want more boys to go home. Annnnd scene. Let’s go meet Heidi!

Mrs. Seal has all the designers arrange themselves in folding chairs, commands their utmost attention, and promptly dismisses them. Wait, what? “Hello designers. You have a challenge. Tim will tell you about it. Thanks for letting me waste your time. Goodbye. No seriously, get the hell off my runway.” No model swapping. No hints. No flower girl dresses or car parts waiting in the wings. Nothing. And you wonder why you don’t win the Best Host Emmy. Fore shame, Klum...

Anyway, after the commercial break the Grand Poobah of Smoking Jackets and Hard Candies fills them in on their actual challenge. Design American sportswear inspired by the ever-classic Jackie Kennedy Onassis. Ooooo. It’s bout to get classy up in here, dawg. Maybe. BUT. It’s another one day challenge. Actually, not even: They have until midnight. With a trip to Mood and Chinese craft service dinner thrown into the mix. They’ll have 8 hours if they’re lucky. Boo. Boo hiss boo. Anyway off to Mood.

Ivy loads her gangly, peckish arms with white and black fabric (surprise, effin surprise); Mondo’s talking to fabric again (Looks like we’ve found the John Nash of fashion); No Swatch the Mood dog. Downtrodden :(

Back in the workroom Michael C confuses Jackie O with his bubbe. His interpretation will not only wear giant sunglasses but also stuff you with gefilte fish and matzah balls.

Somebody's mental for Yentl.
I wanna be Jewish a lil bit.
Ok, maybe I just wanna be fluent in Yiddish. Is that too much to ask?

Anywho, just as I catch a glimpse of a black shroud on April’s dress form (Blast, you woman! But you do go on to call Andy’s pants saggy saddle bags that go right up her ass. Oh, I just can’t stay mad at you.), Tim saunters into the room to spread wisdom, vocabulary lessons and Broadway references. Quick recap:

*Valerie—Admits old fartatude, but still thinks your legging pant will be vulgar.
*Michael D—Annie Get Your Gunn (Get it? Tim. Tim Gunn. Hrmph.)
*Andy—Camel toe (YES! Screw Chicken Soup for the Soul. All I need to perk me up is to hear Lord I Hate Anna Wintour say “camel toe.” My cup runneth over).

After the check up, I know April and Gretchen will be safe because they got zero screen time. And I know Gretchen’ll be pissed. Because, well, she’s Gretchen. And I have a feeling Michael D is gonna be in trouble because he’s gotten all the best quips:

“I don’t know whether she’s gonna harvest wheat or smack me with it.”
“If you took Jackie Kennedy to the desert and gave her some mescaline to eat, then you would have Jackie Kennedy and Mondo.”
“I’m designing sportswear for the first American. The Puritan.”

And I know the instant I start to love someone, they are about to be taken away from me. Maybe I should start liking Ivy…Yikes. Nope. Not gonna happen. Designers sew, sew, sew and then Valerie chirps up. What on earth could she want to quack about? Michael C. We have gone a whole seven minutes without bringing him up, so yes, yes let’s hear what you’ve got. Val doesn’t know who MC is. I don’t know his aesthetic (they’re making me hate that word. That and “skill set.” Shudder.) Val also thinks his dress is looking very Donna Karan. SQREEECHHH. That’s me hitting the brakes. Wha? First he can’t sew. And now he can sew. But-but his stuff looks like a Donna Karan. Give. Me. A. Break. Shut your gob. Win your own challenge.

Uncle Timothy instantly deflates my tude by strutting into the workroom looking nothing but dapper in his seersucker and Easter plaid tie. And the cherry on top…This is officially a two-day challenge!! It’s finally happened. They’re heading back to Mood to prep for making an outerwear piece to go with their Jackie-O-buddy-that’s-a-lot-of-ugly creations. (Time out: Think the judges saw the dailies and went, “Good God what a train wreck. Think we can just make them cover it up.”? I vote: Plausible. Time in.)

Mood Take 2: Christopher heads straight for the dead animal section. Woof. Ah, but there’s Swatch! Hooray for his valiant return. Ivy grabs some dirty grey organza. Blargh. Back in the workroom Christopher gives his wrap a buzz cut and Valerie makes a jacket to put over her jacket. No bueno.

Let’s go ahead and get to the Parade of Unfortunates, err, I mean the runway. Vamanos!

SQREECHH Part Deux: Mondo. Whatcha wearin buddy? It's ventriloquist dummy meets mime meets street performer monkey meets a gothic yodel-odel-odeler. Wack-a-doooo.

Um, yeah. Back to the runway. January Jones is guest judge. Because she obviously makes good fashion choices... (And they really don't reference Mad Men style at all? Really? Is that in her contract or something?) Whatevs, to me, she'll always just be the chick that can't afford pajamas from Love Actually.

And just one more thing. A precursor, if you will: Anybody remember this little outfit from season three? They designed with inspiration from a fashion icon. Michael made the killer Pam Grier short shorts? Kayne made the modern slinky Marilyn Monroe? And lil Mattel-designing Robert came this close to being auff'd with his Jackie O reimagination? Yeah. Pretty sure this would've been in the top this last week. Yeah. Ok, on with the show!

The Not as Horrid as the Most Horrid

Guess who offended my eyes again? What the hell happened after the first two episodes? What we have here is something lumpy and sloppy and brrooowwn. Give up on Team Luxe; like "fetch," camel is never going to happen, Gretchen. Go peddle your Pocahontas jacket somewhere else, kid.

Michael C
Apparently Michael thought it would be a good idea to design a cocktail dress for a sportswear challenge and pair it with a dingy denim wrap sweater. I got nothin. Not a thing to say.

Absolutely nothing about this says sportswear or Jackie O. It says, "April likes to design it tight and black. And methinks Mrs. Kennedy needs a pre-coitus Blanche Devereaux bedroom jacket. Holla."

The "Top"

Gag me. No seriously. Gag me. Think the pants are huge and the jacket is dingy. The giant sunglasses are a Jackie cop out and yeah. This kid can say it better than me:

You're tacky and I hate you.
Suck it.
Ok, I added that last little bit on my own...

It's a lovely little cocktail dress. The color's close to dirty dishwater, but when someone other than Ivy designs with it, I hate it a little less. The "wrap," however, might as well be a down comforter thrown around her shoulders. It looks cheap and strange and ridiculous. So, yeah. It's hit and miss: But this just goes to show: the original outfit and the outerwear piece are so not weighted equally. Even though they got the same amount of time and money for each. Will reference this again soon. Just let that stew for a few. You'll know what I'm gonna say.

The Tragic

I mean. In all seriousness. Did she think she could get away with a lycra tube skirt? I cringe to say it, but good Lord, a legging would have been better. It's just a depressing kind of outfit. And I do love Nina calling her (and muchos of the other designers) out. "Extraneous zippers and pleating do not fashion make." I, like Tom and Lorenzo, can't stand to see one more butt zipper. Maybe that'll nip em in the bud, so to speak.

Um. Come on. This? This is supposed to be for Jackie? You think that woman would wear your ill-fitting parachute pants and butter churning boots? No amount of Foster Grants and Hermes scarves could make that Jackie chic, and we all know it. You and your 'hawk should've been outta here, mister. Then Michael C could move to the other apartment and maybe have someone talk to him. Appalled.

The Best of the Worst

Well folks, funny-like-a-monkey finally takes home a win. Sister and I have debated this, but I think we finally came to an understanding. Yes, the prints are juxtapowacky. Yeah, the pieces individually are kinda simple. BUT. They're each extremely well made, and I could picture a modern-day Jackie putting this together when she's feeling a little kitschy. And, much like the designers and their shoe selection this season, the judges were literally pulling the best from a basket of crap this week. In the end, I like it. Is it the best there could be? No. Is it the best of the group? Clearly, yes.

The "Worst" (*cough*bullshit*cough*)

Michael D
Oh, Mylanta, this makes me sad. Ok, so the skirt is not flattering. Accordion pleating and Pilgrim grey. Not a good combo. It makes her look wide, and the top is kind of a throw away. But. The jacket. It's pretty adorable. (You see where I'm goin with this? You following me camera guy?) It's cute. Very Chanel. Very Jackie. How is it that Christopher can get in the top with a good dress and a horrid outerwear and Michael D can go home with a bad dress and a pretty kickin outerwear? Something has gone awry on Project Runway, and I. Don't. Like it. Andy, you bore, this. Should. Be. You. I shall miss your quips and adorable self-degradation, sir. Lurv.

Thursday, September 16, 2010

Answer to the Fanny Pack

So remember my fanny conundrum?

Found my solution:

The terrified tourist’s money belt.

Not only is it a godsend for the paranoid traveler with an obsessive need to keep hand-on-cash-and-passport at all times, it’s the perfect fit for my iPod, phone and set of keys. Plus, it sits flat under my workout shirt without an awkward tumoric lump. Winner. Granted, I still can’t carry an umbrella, but ya know what? If I get caught in a rainstorm I’ll just run for it. For like 45 seconds. Then I’ll huff and puff it back to my house drenched. It’s fine.

Sidenote: I’ve walked at least two miles for the last 14 of 15 days. Winner numero dos. Now, to some that may not seem like a big deal, but, um. I’m lazy. And am quite often, “le tired.” And like naps, so… That’s what we call success, my friends.

P.S. Know how many fanny packs are featured in Diane Von Furstenberg’s Spring collection? FOUR. Cuatro. Un less than cinq. Craziness.

That's a hellofalot of fanny. Just sayin.

Friday, September 10, 2010

Oo-ee, oo-ee, baby. Won't you let me take you on a sea cruise?

I dedicate that golden oldie to my silver fox, Tim Gunn, Duke of Furrowed Brow and Werther's Originals. But before we get to see him shake out his mane, apply copious amounts of zinc oxide to the tip of his button nose and crawl into perfectly pressed linen board shorts (ah, to dream), we've got to sit through the "designers waking up routine"... Back to you in a few, Tim!

Michael C's still sad that no one congratulated his win, (Me too, sir!) and Andy doesn't care. This kid's got to grow a personality. A mohawk and inappropriately deep V tank does not interesting make. Just sayin. Since we had to say adieu to Peaches last week, April has to move into the other apartment with the clan of trolls. Sorry, Val. Troll by association. They don't trust her as a designer because of how young she is, blah, blah blah *cough Christian Sirano cough,* but whatevs. I'm distrated because I recognized that rug from Ikea. Now I want it even more because it's been on TV. Sister...Could ya pick that up for me, k thanks.

Time to meet Heidi on the runway! In genie pants. Huh? Is it Hammer Time? Are you too legit to quit? Who let this happen to you? I can't trust your judgement. She sends them off to Michael Kors' boat so he can peddle his new sunglasses, feed them blocks of cheese and slam down mimosas. Oh, and be inspired by the waves (and the booze) to design a resort wear outfit. Ah, something new. Mellie like.

By the way, jorts abound among these designers. Michael D's would make a Gator proud, but Mondo...There's just no excuse for that. Those not in their tweens are not allowed to shop in the tweener department. And if you have a penis, well, there's just no justifying those Miss-Terious daisy dukes you have there, sir.

As the designers are sketching/HPing away and scrambling for fabric, I start so hear some worrying things...April's talking about vacationing at an asylum; Mondo says "windbreaker" and "visor." Yikes; Ivy has once again run straight towards the Whites Only section of Mood for her ever-surprising fabric choices. But Swatch, the Mood mascot, is back and that makes me happy.

And then the tide turns. Oh, does it turn. Sir Tim pulls out the velvet bag and announces that he's about to go all Emeril on their asses and kick it up a notch. Now, they have to play designer AND sample maker. Oh, yes. The designers are put into pairs and each have to hand over their design to the other to complete its execution. Oh, how I love the new-ness of it all! Now if only it weren't a one-day-challenge. Grr. Anyway, the pairs break out as such:

Gretchen and Casanova
Valerie and Andy
April and Christopher
Mondo and Michael C (Uhhhh. Booo. I don't waaant Michael C. Waaahh.)
Ivy and Michael D

Everyone seems to be relatively content. Except for two illustrious pairs: Ivy doesn't want to play with Michael D because she doesn't trust his capabilities or his aesthetic. (And I don't trust your scrunchy little stink eyes.) And Mondo got stuck with the short straw that is Michael C (Even though he's won two challenges. And has never been in the bottom. Except for a team challenge. One in which he provided for zero of the suckiness. Huh. Whadda ya know.), and seriously how did funny-like-a-monkey Mondo transition to an assholic fashion martyr so quickly? He's an angry elf...

Gretchen plays ESL instructor to dear dear Casanoooova, and we get the sound clip of the night from our Puerto Rican dear heart: "Gretchen makes me sketches * this * big. I have no problem with my eyes. I can see very well. Oh my gosh--she believe I’m a retard.”

So. Much. Love.

Ooo a special workroom treat. [Enter Michael Kors] I love him. And I love him haranguing the designers both on and off the runway. Casanova and Gretchen have been deemed Team Granny Pants. Nothing but "matronly" comments are coming from the Gunn-Kors duo. Although, my favorite critique moment came when Kors was at Ivy's station and literally pisses all over her design, he R Kelly's it, if you will. Oh, it was just glorious.

Ivy keeps: berating Michael D for not knowing her Parson's School of Design vernacular, passive aggressively teaching him how to top stitch, dumbing down her design so he can manage to construct it without the aid of Elmer's glue and duct tape...and sticking pins in her MD voo doo doll when he's not looking. MD's poor sensitive soul can feel her anger and frustration and calls himself a doo doo head.

Poor, little, 6-year-old, doo doo head in jorts.

After Michael C constructs Mondo's stupid lil windbreaker perfectly, Menudo realizes he's been a dick. I don't forgive him yet. That'll teach you from being a first class douche: you get scoffed at by amateur bloggers such as myself. Chew on that for a while, sir.

And now I declare it...Runway time!

The Unacknowledged

Took Michael's advice and stayed away from the cerulean top to avoid the color palatte he's come to hate so fiercely. I think the shorts are actually pretty adorable and really like the back of the top. Yeah, it makes her ass look a little wide, but if she vacations like I do, it's destined to look like that when she gets back anyway, so...Go on and embrace it.

Michael C
Woo. Didn't have to worry about winning this week and having the other designers loathe him further. That is one shiny, shiny jumpsuit. I couldn't even pull that off with the aid of a cardigan. But I guess you can get away with alot when you're on vacation so, safe it is.

Oh good God what a sack. The models boobs are literally floating around her midsection. Once again, Gretchen, your design has offended me. Woof.

Lovely top. Not much to report on the shorts. They're not denim, so I guess that's a step up. Casual. Cute. I like. Safe.

The Shipwrecks
Oh. Oh my. Major day-glo and looks more Barbie’s kid sister Kit spends a day by the wading pool than “resort wear.” This is not $150 worth of clothes. Not at all. At judge's table Mondo reminds us (for the second time this episode), that his resort wear is hanging out in his living room in his underwear. Buh, mental image, buh.

So, um. Ivy decided to design a nightgown this week in shades of grey. gtui049lskdj f*(ASFdlsf lsdfk )(* Oh, sorry about that. It's so. Fucking. Boring, that I fell asleep on my keyboard. My bad. She really is so horrid. Don't tell the judges this wasn't your fault. Your design. Your fault.

The Big Kahunas

Michael D
It's pretty. It's interesting. It's shiny linen. That's all I can really say on it with any authority. The judges went ape shit over it. All right...Whatever floats your boat, man.

Now this, my friends, is a winner. Should have been a winner. Only piece that was obviously resort wear. Perfectly executed and looked killer going down the runway. Boy don't have much of a personality but he was pretty much sucker punched for not winning.

The Victorious

Not that I didn't like hers...The psych ward beach party outfit actually turned out pretty well. I'm 100% on the top, but south of the border it turns lingerie. And this is not a lingerie challenge. And I'm sorry, there's more diaper with that bottom than those judges care to realize. Had they been not as high-waisted and there was maybe another layer of sheer...I think I'd feel better about it. But way to go, April. I'm starting to warm up to you after all.

Although, I would like her to take a break from the Black Panther Party and branch out to, I dunno, a color. Just once. Your model's getting depressed.

Adios Pobrecito...



I mean, come on. I thought it was kind of lovely. Granted, it's not really "resort wear," but this shouldn't have been the "send me home" outfit. The judges really have to lay off this whole, grandma thing. They apparently have different seniors in their lives, because my Pooh would never wear something with an open back. Honestly, Gretchen's burlap-grapefruit-in-the-knee-sock-boob jumpsuit deserved to be in the bottom more. And Mondo or Ivy should be going home. Take that back. Ivy should be going home. Because. She. Sucks.

And you know what, judges? You're not supposed to refer to past work, are you? ARE YOU? Then you shouldn't even be bringing up the belly dancer outfit, should you? No. You. Shouldn't. And if you are doing that, shouldn't you also throw out the fact that he won two short weeks ago? Yes. You. Should.

Hello, my name is grumpy pants.

Know what I think? This is what I think:

Take it. You take it and you like it.

Next week: Sir "Leggings are not pants" Gunn says, "Jackie Kennedy would not have camel toe." This is how Project Runway gets guaranteed ratings.