You know, Persephoneers, I look forward to this blog every week. I love Project Runway All Stars, it’s fun to write, and I love you. Yes, I’m drunk, why do you ask? It’s Whiskey Thursday, which kinda rhymes after half a bottle. As Hemingway said, “Write drunk, edit sober, and hey, you, cutie – wanna see me whip out my Pulitzer?”
Not-Heidi traipsed down the runway with eight bee-you-tee-ful weekend-getaway bags. The designers each chose a bag, dreams in their embroidered hearts of exotic locales. Inside was a luggage tag telling them for which Real Housewife of Miami they would be designing a vacation outfit.
Naw, I’m just fucking with you. On the luggage tags were one of four seasons. The designers were tasked with creating a sportswear look for their season. Eight designers, four seasons, carry the Mondo… that left two designers per season. Each pair would be battling it out in a FASHION! FACE! OFF! For the uninitiated, a FASHION! FACE! OFF! means the designers had to make clothes for John Travolta and Nicholas Cage, the victor being allowed to remove and wear the bloodied face of the loser in triumph. And, if they played their cards right, get a date with Nic Cage.
The pairs of competitors were Austin vs. Kara, Kenley vs. Mondo, Mila vs. Rami, and Michael vs. Jerell.
I’m going to place my bets now. I choose Austin, Mondo, Rami, and Michael. We’ll see if I’m right, and if I’m able to finish the blog – for if Kenley beats Mondo, I may just drive my laptop to New York and beat Isaac Mizrahi with it.
Wow, I am in a graphic mood this day, folks. Hope my insanely-loud-trance-music-playing neighbors won’t piss me off. I’ve been itching to slap the stupid off someone. There’s so much stupid nowadays, don’t you agree?
Austin and Kara talked the most genteel, boring smack I’ve ever heard. “I’ll design a knee-length, baggy sweater, shall I?” “Oh yes, that’ll be sexy.” And then all of reality TV curled up and died. It’s not really smack until Nic Cage gets thrown. Although Mila did pick up a bolt of scarlet fabric and remark “It’s just like picking up a person.” I admire a woman who can haul her own victims.
Mila set out to create a cape over a pair of skinny jeans. Oh, my goodness! Mila’s making skinny jeans! How radical! How unusual! (That, friends, was more sarcasm than Austin and Kara could muster.) I really hate how the ubiquitous skinny pant is somehow regarded as a strong fashion choice on this show. They’re fine, but some designers (“Like Mila,” she whispered subtly) use them as a crutch. And get off my lawn with your new-fangled leggings! Joanna said that her “Mila pants” were her signature piece. That sort of thing only encourages her, Joanna! My opinion is the only right one. Mila went on to criticize Rami’s use of royal blue and lime together because those colors are colors and not black and white.
Michael pursued a fuzzy vest look, popular with Care Bear cosplayers everywhere. Unfortunately, he abandoned the idea, causing Fuck You Bear to get surprisingly angry.
The pressure to win their showdowns got to everyone. Mondo called it Wrestleman–er, Fashionmania. The Fashionmania really got to Michael, who fell down Jerell’s Hipster Hole,* a disgusting place full of stale Pabst Blue Ribbon. Michael totes stole Jerell’s jacket shape! And they were in competition! This was worse than the time Michael Kors copied Karl Lagerfeld’s faux-tan look. Actually, no it wasn’t. Joanna called a team meeting to discuss The Case of the Too-Similar Coats. Everyone said Jerell’s coat came first. I hate things like this – one, because I hate cheating, and two, because it gives Jerell a reason to be super smug, and smugness makes my eye twitch unless I’m the one doing it. Later on, Jerell joined Mondo and Michael for a bite. Mondo quipped that it was just like dinner at his family’s house – awkward. Jerell went after Michael, Michael got defensive, bleeps were heard. I’ve never actually said a cuss word that was so bad that I got bleeped. Not even when I called someone a donkey-ramming [bleep-bleeper]. Gasp! I did it! Who’s a failure now, mom!?
* I know what you’re thinking when you read the words “Jerell’s Hipster Hole,” and I want you to know I’m very [bleeping] ashamed of you.
Mondo told us a story about how it was his mother’s sixtieth birthday, and he was designing an outfit he’d want to wear to her party if he were a girl. Oh, Mondo! You don’t need to be a girl. An ethereal Elfin imp like you can wear whatever he wants. Joanna expressed concern that both he and Kenley, his FASHION! FACE! OFF! competitor, were using polka-dots. He replied, “Kenley is the Polka-Dot Queen, but I am the Polka-Dot Princess.” And thus the War of the Polka Dots began. It was just like the War of the Roses, except with fewer dead Yorkists and more polka dots.
Kara told the L’OrÃ©al hair and makeup artists that she was going for a “sexy chic” look, unlike all the other designers, who pursued a “disgusting frump” vibe.
The guest judge this week was Cynthia Rowley – lovely! I’ve divided the looks by season, as contractually obligated. Let us see who is de rigueur, and who is dejected.
Austin’s look would be perfect for a fashion tone-deaf rich-bitch sorority sister on vay-cay with her family on Cape Cod. All pink and ruffles and beige. So much beige. I think his model used to be Black but turned beige after putting on this outfit. And there was simply no reason to bring high-waisted, clam-digger, pleated pants into it. I nearly choked on my watercress salad. Cynthia said it was almost so dorky it was cool. Isaac called it the dreaded “B” word. No, not “Bruce Jenner,” but “boring.”
Kara’s lady was easy-peasy after the fussiness of Austin. The pants, the color-blocking, the long jacket – all solid and in nice fabrics. Not groundbreaking, but pretty. Cynthia said the same thing, but Kara defended it by saying that she was packing for a getaway – not to be avant-garde. And I agree with that. I try hard to look cute on vacation, but I don’t bring the craziest shit I own. I don’t want a risk; I want attractive, fun pieces that make me look skinny in Facebook pictures.
And the FACE OFF victor was: Kara! Called that one wrong.
I bet you didn’t know it, but Kenley’s polka-dot jumper first appeared on film in the 1936 movie Let’s Go to a Clambake and Then Put on a Show to Raise Money for Farmer Brown’s Sick Cow, Splotchy. Now, I’m a girl who looooooves her vintage, but this thing was an adorable pair of jammies, not an outfit most women would wear on the street unless they were in a bathing beauty contest. I don’t mind the cute shape, but coupled with the baby blue polka-dots, it was a bit too much for me. It could have been kinda badass in a more subversive fabric and perhaps a less mumsy collar. Cynthia Rowley loved it, as did Isaac. Georgina criticized that fact that the polka dots did not match up at the seams, and I’d noticed the same thing. Tsk tsk.
Mondo’s girl reminded me very much of the first Barbie with her styling and overall vibe – if she’d been invented in the ’80s. I loved this. I’m not usually a fan of wide, breezy shirts like that, but coupled with the shorts, they had a nice proportion together. The pops of color were pure Mondo. And I am a whore for unnecessary, giant buttons. Look at those shorts! The judges were not fans – they ripped my poor Mondo into little Elf shreds, questioning the fabrics, the shapes, and the accessories.
And the FACE OFF victor was: Kenley. Yes, Kenley. Soon after, locusts invaded my home. The sky turned green, and my cat began speaking in Klingon. Okay, that last part was pretty chong!, but the rest was quite sad.
I sighed and lusted over Rami’s blue jacket, which had shoulders and sleeves of matching blue suede. I want to wear it out and then take it to bed and whisper sweet bleepings to it. I liked the lime contrast of the shirt, but not the neck so much. The pants (yes, skinny) were piped in the royal blue, and I thought that a damn nice touch against the grey. This was a perfect example of how you can be covered pate to footpad and still be smokin’ hot. At judging, the jacket was opened to reveal an ugly blouse, actually – all puckered and seamed weirdly and just not good. Cynthia said the shirt made her boobs look uneven. And how.
Mila’s look was just plain pretty, but not really exciting to me. I covet the cape, but I’ve seen that design on many a picturesque German postcard. Red sweater, skinny pant, zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz. The judges loved this one, but thought it looked a bit cheap.
And the FACE OFF victor was: Mila. I am 0 for 3 so far. Some freaking fashion blogger I am! I could scroll up and change all my predictions, but I have professional integrity. Plus, I’m lazy.
Jerell’s cardigan was definitely steal-worthy. The mix of fabrics was, dare I say it, Mondo-esque – and executed just as well. The double-button cardigan looked adorable and comfy. I didn’t even mind that the whole thing was a bit bulky – that’s what you need when the sky is raining frozen pellets on your head. Not that I require such things. It was 80 degrees in Los Angeles today. Neener-neener. The judges creamed themselves for Jerell’s look.
I hated Michael’s fabric. HATED. With hate. And a side of loathing. It appeared to be a boucle stripe of some sort? Or perhaps the man accosted a family of mangy, dirty skunks. In case you can’t tell, I was not a fan. The shape didn’t have the sophistication of Jerell’s. And then Michael invoked the name of Jackie Kennedy and I threw up on my cat a little. Why is it that the only designers who ever say that dear departed Jackie would wear something of theirs are the ones who are referring to hideous shit? Fashion Jesus, take the wheel. Isaac called his leggings-and-heels combo “nasty.” Cynthia said Michael’s model was Jerell’s model’s mom. Oooooh burn.
The judges remarked on the similar outfits, as they were coached to do by the producers, hungry for some FACE OFF bloodshed.
And the FACE OFF victor was: Jerell. And with that, I end the episode with a record as accurate as Nicolas Cage’s ability to pick a good script.
The overall winner was Jerell. I would definitely call him “most improved” since the Princess Clemyntine disaster of yester-week.
Languishing in loserville was Rami, which took me completely by surprise. I thought it would finally have been Michael’s swan-song. It’s hard to fathom that Rami could make such a gorgeous jacket and still go home. The judges this season – are they taking AYFKM pills? *Puts on whiney hat.* I miss Kors and Nina and Tim! How different would this season be with them at the helm? I am going to go drown my confusion in Cocoa Puffs. Bye bye and until next week, my cat says, “nuqDaq ‘oH puchpa”e’.”