Her Demographic is 40 to Death.

Ok kids, we're keeping it short and sweet this week because Sister is in town and we have horrible movies to watch and delicious homemade oatmeal creme pies to eat. So in the words of our friend, Mr. Marvin Gaye, let's get it oooonnn. WAAaaahhh...

Welcome back to the New Balance challenge. AKA the one from last season that we all forgot about except for the knockoff Lululemon winner. I think I blocked it out because of all the gray and drawstrings. Anyway, Heidi needs some looks to sell on Amazon.com to match her denim tennis shoes, so get to work minions!

And now a speed recap!



Becky should really consider keeping a spare comb in her bedside table. Po' 'ol Becky.



Cecilia might actually be dead. This scares me. If a mouth breather doesn't breath...What does it do?



For some reason, even though this is Heidi's fucking line, she still gets to wear her Louboutins while dear Dame Gunn, Lady of Wingtips, is forced to wear fucking sneakers. You know his toes must feel so squishy and he doesn't like it.



Cecilia is a mondo asshole crybaby who doesn't wanna run around the New Balance track. Oh, she doesn't want to be on the show anymore either. You know, the show you tried out for. Sorry you had to actually, you know, compete once you got on. GFY, Cece.



Oliver fall down go boom. BAH. BA-HAHA.

So lazy eye went away, but the designers got to choose who shall return. Since most of the departed are sallow face no-funners guess who got the bid...



Squeeeeee!



And now their true love can continue on course as planned. YES. First Project Runway wedding? Lord willing.



Oh, Bert's a major asshole. Joshua made Becky cry in a bathroom, but at least he's sassy and well-plucked. Bert. You are a sad, sad, little curmudgeon and I want to kick you. A lot.



Someone who looks like an emaciated Rumor Willis with a chin sharp enough to open a tin can was the guest judge. I fear her.

Oh, and there were clothes. And teams. What? That's an important part of a recap? Woops.

Team Who Cares Joshie's Back, Bitches!

Oliver

Joshie

Viktor

Oh my. Oliver made a sad, sad little number that a Duggar wouldn't even wear. I don't know where this woman is going. Because she's probably homeless and mentally ill, so I don't want to follow her. Fuck Yeah Joshie made a sneaker appropriate outfit. Nothing spectacular, but at'll do, pig. At'll do. Viktor kicked major ass and took home Win #1. For real want to own that outfit.

Team 40 to Death

Joshua

Becky

Anya

Joshua picks up Win #2 by managing his team so well through tears and forced servitude. Anya's dress, sewn by Becky and inspired by Josh's eyebrows will be available to the masses and bought by people that look like Anya. Becky's poor short and tight and lumpy number will look on it longingly, wishing it, too, could have been worn by a beauty queen and near porn star. Wah wah I'm not dowdy wahhh. Joshua's outfit says fuck you all. I"m a netted vest, bitch. I don't care what you say.

Team Bert's a Dick

Bert

Laura Kathleen

Anthony Ryan

Oh Anthony Ryan. Baby. One ball. It served you well in the race (being more aerodynamic and such), but perhaps it has also caused you to believe that flying squirrel camel toe is on trend. Woof McWooferson, I don't think I've seen anything more unattractive. More aesthetically not pleasing. More so so sad...Than this. Oh, LK made a strange vest, but I didn't think it was as horrid as pointy chin did, and Bert made a pillow case top for a slutty cocktail waitress in 1994. Oh, and I hate you Bert.

Team Bryce Looks Weird (as in Normal) Without Glasses

Kimberly

Bryce

Meeky Mouse

Bryce made a shiny potato sack dress with darts that looked like they were stapled in that for some reason the judges creamed for and found acceptable to wear with tennis shoes. (Huh?) No qualms with Kimberly's outfit except for the strange, built-in FUPA/GUNT pouch. Weird. And the dismissed...Meeky Mouse. A sad, floppy, chiffon tank top and unflattering (and bor--sl(*)kdfjalkdsfj. Woops fell asleep on the keyboard--ing. Take your teeny bow, your teeny mouth and ginormous braid and excuse yourself.

All in all, a fabulous episode. Meth bedroom eyes Cece and Meeky Mouse Danielle are auffed and bubble butt Joshie is back in the game and lookin' for love. Break out your best ascot and womanly chenille sweater and WORK IT!

Joan Crawford's St. Patty's Day Party. I'll bring the acorn squash puree.

I'm afraid my critique this week may come out a bit *stilted*; I'm still on such a *high* from last week. That challenge really *towered* over anything that's been done in the past. The designers really *teetered* between fashion genius and sheer shit. (Ok, just joshin' about that last one. There was no fashion genius last week; I just really wanted to make that pun work. Although there quite literally was a ton of sheer shit, danke to Cecilia and Danielle.)

And that bit's a wrap! Let's move along to the challenge for this week:



It's Nina Motherfucking Garcia, bitches. Oh, I am in love. After last week's ridiculous, drape-a-flight-of-stairs-in-charmeuse challenge, designing a work to evening look for Nina, Dame of Taste and Quick Tonguedness is just what we needed. Get it to it!

Snips of Snark from the Workroom Floor

Oh m'gah, Cecilia is rockin' my nerrrrves. Plus she's the first person in the history of history to not find fabric at Mood. And really? In a moment of panic, the two colors you choose are in hues of grey poupon and silver skin? What is wrong with you?



Plus, we've found the mouth-breather of the season. Pair it with the least seductive pair of perma-bedroom eyes known to man and you get my least favorite person ever. (Can you believe she's beating out Laura Kathleen aka Too Pretty to be Poor? Me neither. But she hasn't said anything offensive to my ears since Episode 2. It's weird.)

Becky shops at Kohls. #1 I totally have this belt:



#2 I totally tried on this top. (Not flattering. It was a bad shirt. Asshole.)



I say this because I gotta let Becky in on a tidbit of information that would be beneficial to her self-discovery. One who shops as Kohls should not consider him or herself as "alternative" (as you tend to do, Becky). Do you know how many sweater sets I've picked up at Kohls? TONS. Oh, and you own a denim blazer. Lo siento Beckita, but strange feather earrings do not "alternative" make. Stick with quirky. Quirky is your style. Own it. And burn those Choctaw earrings, mk?

Ok, this isn't the least bit snarkful, but I gotta say...Dawwwhhhh! How effing cute are Anthony Ryan and fiance? So much adoring. Did the call serve any sort of purpose? No. Did it make me want to marry a gay Southern man swathed in cerulean tank tops? Hells yes.



Bryce wants to put Nina Use My Full Name Garcia in a cowl neck. Go fuck yourself. Dismiss yourself from the competition. You don't deserve to be here. Why don't you just go ahead and design her a velour sweatsuit. Get one of the crazy clown models from last week to make you some balloon animals and dress them instead. Helium and latex seem more your speed.

I'm gonna put $100 bucks on Oliver making NMFG a grey jacket and boxy skirt in a similar muted palate. All I've seen is the muslin (And thank you, Viktor for that design PSA...) and Oliver's vague expression, but that's all we really need to predict the fruits of his labor, yes?

And finally, good God, Danielle.



"My style easily transitions from day to evening, so I got that goin for me, which is nice." Shut it Spakler. That teeny tiny gob of hers is driving me nutso. From henceforth I shall refer to her a Meeky Mouse.

It's runway time and Tim Gunn, Earl of Earl Grey and Sucrets enters into an abandoned workroom. Wuh oh. Suddenly the pits and small of the back of his Zegna suit dampen. As he storms into the sewing room he gently and dapperly reminds the designers to pull their collective heads out of their asses and not screw this up. He will not look like a Welsh Pony's ass in front of Lady Nina G.

Now, since TG warned the designers not present a parade of grey on the runway, of course the grey contenders were safe. Huh. That makes sense. Let's judge them further, shall we?

The Muted Middle

Oliver



I. Am a genius. Replace "skirt" with "cigarette pant" and my prediction was dead on. And maybe Viktor explained to us the concept of muslin so we could all recognize it in Oliver's jacket. Weak sauce, O. Plus it looks sloppy awful. Two words that Nina Garcia abhor.

Laura Kathleen



If Nina were heading to a Feliz Navidad party, then yeah this would be suitable. That being said, it's cute enough. Well made. Essentially, what one should do when one has immunity (*cough* Bert *cough*). Plus, isn't her model the worst walker ever? Dumper McDumperson.

Joshua



Actually like this. And look at it: It's not covered in rhinestones and the shoes are sans flotsam. Our lil Joshie listened to the judges. I give Gypsy Rose Lee mad props for putting something clean and pretty down the runway.

Bryce



Bryce's attempt at a safe outfit. We get a boring dress with an atrocious hem. He should be reamed with a Singer sewing machine for that hem. Woof.

Bert



So. Fucking. Boring. Just go away, Bert. We're done now.

Becky



Um. It's all right. Again, the tiniest sliver of lime green piping isn't alternative. Bluughghh.

Anthony Ryan



A little Juniors Section for NMFG, right? So glad they didn't acknowledge the twin fabrics during judging because these two outfits really don't deserve to be talked about. (Sorry, kids.)

The Praised

Viktor



Like the shoulder treatment. Simple. Clean. Don't think the fit is awesome, but it gets the panel's seal of approval. Kerry Why Am I Here Washington takes it a little far by referring to the suit as a "piece." Sorry babes. This is gonna be in Macy's by the end of the year. And we're not at an art installation. Don't call it a piece. Let Joanna Coles talk for you.

Anya



Ok, so LK helped her finish the collar. Whatevs, I didn't piddle myself like you know Viktor did when she received her props, but I'm not gonna fawn over her sewing skills (the chick's gotta figure out how to construct an attractive crotch. Yeah, I said it. I am going to say--Yay you for not putting Nina in mustard, but instead dying the fabric (first time that I can recall designers manipulating Mood fabrics since Korto bleached denim back in the day.) Yeah, I'm pretty sure Dapper Dan and Uniballer suggested it, but she listened and did it. Muy bien.

Kid Tested, Nina Approved

Kimberly



Yeah, Nina pretty much creamed herself as this came stomping down the runway. And I don't blame her. The top is fab (a little shiny for me, but I don't work at Marie Claire), and the pants are wicked awesome. Plus she styled it to NMFG perfection, down to the one signature cocktail ring. Brava. Enjoy that win, lady.

Purse of the Lips

Meeky Mouse



Good glory to all that is sad and boring. Michael Kors sees his 1980s Aunt Mildred Pierce and Joanna Holy Shit Coles thinks she should be in the kitchen making acorn squash puree. I enjoy how she puts so much specificity and detail into her judgments. I like this woman and think she should be added onto the panel permanently.

Cecilia



Oh it's just a sad Holly Hobby baby vomit dress, isn't it? Shake a can of pennies at it and make it go away.

The Shunned

Julie



Oh Julie...This is the anti-Nina outfit. Know why? Because Kors imagines its pockets chock full of Kleenex, and obviously Nina La Serpentina Garcia uses Marie Claire interns as her tissues. And it's a fucking housecoat. Can you imagine her in a housecoat? Surrounded by cats? Shuffling along in heel-worn Birkenstocks? I. Think. Not. And so we bid adieu to Dog Chewed My Face (and droat) Julie. We shall miss your pueblo creations.

Next Week: Designers must race to be team leaders. Was the black velvet bag getting too boring? And. Um, designers aren’t athletes. Gatorade is not going to become a sponsor of Project Runway. Why oh why are they running? Are they designing a track team’s uniforms? Thy didn’t even have to do this when they designed Olympics Opening Ceremony outfits. What does Becky-Kohl do to piss off Dapper Dan? Does Oliver have a heart attack? Oh the confusion!

Chicken Creepers

Popeyes, what have you done?

I mean, if you think about the concept of chicken fingers, it's pretty damn creepy, but this...Well, it's just making it too real. "Here you go, consumers. Grab ahold of this chicken's palm. Rip the digits from their sockets. Dunk it in this sauce of kitten tears while you're at it." Buhh.

It's like they've deep-fried Chanticleer's hand..

Rock-a-doodle?

I think it's waving at me.

Make it go away.

It's Off Grain, Bitch.

Well, we've survived the unconventional challenge; no one came out flea ridden or is host to heartworms (although Fallene and Julie are looking a bit mangy), so it's time to move on to something a little more traditional. Like 8' models. Just think of it as another version of plus size. You'll be good to go as long as you have a barrel or two for your dress form to perch. On top of the stilts, this is also going to be the first outdoor runway open to the public and press. So press your dress shorts, Viktor and scoop on an extra dollop of Dapper Dan, Joshua; you're about to be all up on a fangirl's iPhone.

They'll have one day. $500. Channel Paris Couture. And Lady Gaga has a new idea for her next public appearance. (Bryce, you should already be inspired. *Foreshadowinggggg*)

Annnd...It's a team challenge. So let's break out the dreaded velvet bag and discover the Island of Misfit Toys' fate.

*Bert and Viktor: The Un-Ambiguously Gay Duo.
*Joshua and Julie: The League of Extraordinary Gender Swappers
*Danielle and Cecilia: Team Melba Toast
*Anya and Oliver: The Too Distracted By Our Accents to Design Anything Twins
*Kimberly and Becky: Team Passive Aggression
*Anthony Ryan and Laura Katherine: The Southern Balls (My bad, "Ball")
*Bryce and Fallene: Team Anemia and Abhorrence aka Oops I Shit My Pants

Partners and cringes established, the kids are finally off to Mood. They're so excited to actually use real fabric that the trip's relatively uneventful. Except for...



Bum da da dummm--The return of Swatch the Wonder Dog. Missed you lil buddy!

As the lil duos get off to draping and pleating, I can't help but notice that we have some look a likes in the workroom. We've already established Joshua (who I've moved into the "I dig ya" category, because "You are [not] rockin' my nerrrrves.") as the Queen Mary version of Ryan Reynolds, but there are some less fortunate doppelgangers in the mix:

Miss Julie. You better start combing your hair and work a little eye liner into the mix because right now you're channeling Smeagol and Anna Nicole's Cousin Shelly's love child.



Bryce on the other hand hails from the BBC because he's actually Mr. Rumbold from Are You Being Served. (Find that long lost PBS station around 10pm on the weekends [guess it's too racy for prime time] and you'll see what I'm talking about.)



The workroom is so not a happy place this week. We needed to feng shui the manikins or burn some sage or something because man, were people in a mood. Bert is pretty atrocious (As are his tapestry fabric choices. Woof.), and being a little snot nose, know-it-all. "Marlene Dietrich never wore pants and you're thinking Queen Ann not Queen Elizabeth; what are you? A complete fucktard?" Wowza, Bert. How bout you take off the ass hat and pop on a cheery chapeau. Preesh, cranky pants. Cecilia works in a constant grimace. Kimberly and Becky just seem to scowl at each other. I think Kimberly doesn't dig Becky's jean jacket and Becky can feel her hatred. Finally, Bryce must've interned on a farm or something. Maybe he wrote his thesis on fibrous wheats, because he seems particularly concerned about grain for some reason. Get the kid a box of Kix. One bowl comes with two servings of whole grains. Will that make you feel better? On a serious note, Fallene is self-taught, which means she cut her fabric off grain, essentially raping it in front of all the designers causing it to fall funkily and feel a world of shame. Grain. Grain, motherfuckin grain. Off grain. Fallene responds by being a big, big weepy squishy face, scraps her top, let's Bryce make a tube top (two words that should have no place on Project Runway), makes a hat and cries some more. There. Now you're all caught up.

It's time for the runway show folks. The special stilt walker models get Garnier'd and TRESemme'd and the whole motley crew head down to the docks to strut their stuff. (And Fallene cries some more.)

And I've gotta confess: I couldn't really form a reaction to any of the outfits because, um, all of the models look and walk as if they've shit themselves. I find it off-putting and distracting.

We Have Accents and Immunity. Send Us To the Waiting Room



Anya and Oliver: There's really not much to say, is there? It's a dingy nightgown and patchwork vest. Whatevs.

*Heads* Above the Rest (Get it? Because they're on stilts.)



Kimberly and Becky: Would it be off color to make a cerebral palsy joke about the model right here? Thought so. Ok, I'll just say this: The model's gate and Geri Jewell's have a few distinct similarities. Ok, that's done. On to the outfit. Everything's well-tailored and executed. Becky's pop-of-color collar isn't a big hit, but that's nothing to really hate on. Safe. Proceed to the donuts and bottled water room.



Danielle and Cecilia: Oh good Lord. I was not OK with this. Congratulations on pleating three miles of chiffon in a day. It's very Joan "No Wire Hangers" Crawford on casual Friday. I'm sorry but the ass is Goldie-Hawn-Death-Becomes-Her-Frosting-Out-of-the-Can huge. The neck is bedazzled and the hair. Excuse me, BAH!, is absolutely tragic.



The Winners!--Anthony Ryan and LK: Definitely my pick for favorite too. Good job this week, judges! The color, the flow, the hot glued feather shoulder pads...All awesome. I hate that LK took the win, but Uniballer was a bona fide Southern gentleman and gave it to her on a silver stilt. And she didn't say anything offensive this week, so I guess the other double-named of the crew was a good influence on her.

Thar She Bloooows



Oh Josh and Julie...At least you gave the judges a chuckle, right? I must say, the most tragic part of the garment wasn't the Ringling Brothers pant, but the horrid, shiny dance wear tank top. I didn't even think Mood would carry that fabric. Good Lord at the shine. But really, all I could think while this was stomping down the runway:

(Except replace "head" with "legs.") You know you did, too.

Viktor and Bert: Um, Bertrude is an evil queen, and I don't know who he blew to get on Heidi's good side. (Seal? Did you get a kiss from a Rose?) Anyway the whole thing's a giant curtain with a gold mesh napkin tucked into the bust. Boo.



Bryce and Fallene: Gah, don't these two kids just look clammy? And let's face it: It's a giant storm cloud tutu on bottom and a tube top upstairs. It's the nothing. Like, Neverending Story-worthy the nothing. Yeah the headpiece adds something, but Fall...A headband does not a lifesaver make. You go home now.



And thank goodness. The little pixie I once dug is long gone. All that's left is a squish, squish, leaky, mushy face that I desperately want to scrub down. Fare thee well, Country Mouse Coming Off a Bender. We won't really miss you.

Y'all stay seated. It's all good.

Next week: Designing for Nina Garcia. Two words: Holy. Shit.

This is gonna be good.