Crafty Manolo » And Then There Were Fifteen

And Then There Were Fifteen

By Twistie

Soooo… last night was the premiere of Season 9 of Project Runway. Fashion! Drama! Intrigue! Sewing machines!  Bizarre critiques! Tim Gunn! More Tim Gunn! Heidi being deranged! Yet more Tim Gunn!

Okay, so I’m a little obsessed.

And since there are spoilers on the horizon, I’m using a fairly generic picture that had nothing whatsoever to do with last night’s episode and inserting a handy cut for spoilers right here.

Is it just us now?



I still can’t believe the cruel twist they put on this one. I thought they were cold last season when they ditched one designer before settling into the apartments. This time, four heads rolled before the first challenge. To think one woman postponed her wedding in Iceland to compete only to be sent packing without even unpacking her shears!

And then on top of that to wake the remaining sixteen contestants at five in the morning by Tim Gunn (call me, Tim! That wasn’t the bad part), and parade them down the street in their jammies and bedsheets to Parsons, where they were told to put on scrubs and make fashion out of sheets and whatever they happened to wear to bed! Yeah, that was nasty.

As usual, some designs were better than others, some… a little scary. The guest judge sitting with Nina, Heidi, and Michael this week was Christina Ricci, who I must admit I still always picture as Wednesday Addams in my heart of hearts.

Still, she proved herself to be a thoughtful judge with a good critical eye. I think these days Michael Kors is more interested in coming up with colorful similes than serious critiques, but he mostly stayed on point last night.

And as per usual, at least one designer showed himself to be utterly delusional. Rafael:

 was absolutely convinced that he and Nina were having eye sex across the runway, when in actuality she was squinting in horror at his design. In fact, he got sent home for his painfully unattractive outfit of hyper-tight leggings, ill-fitting white belly-baring blouse with all the details in the back in white on white so the judges couldn’t see them, and leopard-print bib necklace created from the headscarf he wore to bed. Bye bye, Rafael. You were cute enough, but your design was heinous and you continued to defend it when the judges told you it was making them break out in hives.

At the other end of the fabulosity scale, Bert:

 who at 57 is the oldest contestant in PR history, made a rather spectacular (if heart-attack-inducingly short) dress featuring a swath of his orange-checked boxers across one breast. It was the winner of the evening, earning Bert immunity in the next challenge.

I’m still getting to know these designers, but I already feel a certain kinship with Becky for her flashes of bright color and firm belief that fashion should come in all sizes… just like people do. I’m also immediately drawn to Anthony Ryan, the color-blind testicular cancer survivor. Seriously, I’m fascinated with someone who’s color-blind going into such a visual art where shading can make or break the line. I’m also ready to slap Laura if she carries on one more time about how people won’t expect her to be capable because she’s blonde and soooooo pretty. Honey, you’re not all that and a bag of Doritos. Besides, playing the pretty card against a former Miss Universe contestant? Probably not the most effective use of your supposed trump.

I can’t wait to see what happens next!

Alas, you won’t hear about it from me right away because I’m taking a little vacation for the month of August. Behave yourselves while I’m away, and I’ll catch up with all of you in September.

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