Size Matters

It could be argued that all episodes of Project Runway are about sizes, after all that's how they fit the clothes. Sorta, right? But last night's episode was the most about sizes in the show's illustrious 32 year history. The models this week had all dropped a number of sizes, and the contestants traded their medium Jack for their XXL shunned geigh, Chris. Yes! Due to a severe case of puff-face (no more medical jargon, I swear) poor, tennis pro-ish Jack decided to leave the show. It really was sad to see him go. He seemed to have a modicum of talent and appeared to have taken a liking to that wee monkey creature with the Fortress of Solitude atop his little head. But ah well. Things fall apart.

So, Chris was brought in and made something that Michael Kors could not stop calling "French hooker Shirley MacLaine French Shirley hooker MacLaine" or some such babble. He really is spinning off the planet, isn't he? The one straight guy whose name really doesn't matter should have been the winner for his (what I'm going to call) Basket Hat Dress 'n Leggings, but instead it went, perhaps in memorial to ol' Puffy, to the wee monkey creature's Contempo Casuals Look-of-the Week, which, interestingly enough, was worn by the evening's skinniest model. All told, the whole challenge swung wildly from meh, kinda easy to wah-wah-wee-wah, what the hell am I gonna do. Of course Chim-Chim had to get the skinny one. That the tiny little thing is now vindicated and assured in his talent can only mean good things for the show's drama level and only horrible things for my sanity.

Nothing much else happened on the show. Oh! Except that guy who is basically the quiet gay nerd from your high school literary magazine's staff was packed into Heidi's boxcar and sent off to the ovens. He deserved to go for his truncated choir uniform and also for his being annoying. So, so long, guy whose name I can't remember and I'm too lazy to look up. Good luck looking vaguely like a muppet.

Who knows, maybe you'll come back once Chris realizes he's come down with a nasty case of Puff-Everything.

Oop, I promised you no more medical terms!

Oh, also: Watch this.

Not Opposites

Sometimes here on LolCait, we do Opposites. But today, we'll do Not Opposites.

So, Project Runway's Christian:



Is completely not the opposite of, The Jungle Book's Mowgli:

Things We Lost In The Mire

Tonight was one of entrances and exits. Oddly smooth, perfectly coiffed entrances by Nate Archibald into Blair Waldorf's precious snatch, and an untimely exit by Chris, our big, fat, geigh costume designer friend from Project Runway.

Both Runway and Gossip Girl were vaguely depressing and wrong tonight for vaguely the same reason. There are just not good choices being made.

Are there really debutante balls on the UES? I don't think so. Deb balls are something far too gauche and nouveau riche for the withered old sacks of bones that haunt the east 70's and 80's.* So the whole conceit of the episode just felt woefully off. Couple that with the sexy-pex preview for this decidedly unsexy, unpexy episode and Houston (pronounced Howston), we've got a problem. While Chuck's rejection promises some wonderful revenge schemes in the future, where the hell is this show really headed? The whole elderhip parents storyline is growing sillier and more useless by the day. Jenny has become whiny and insolent and so far removed from the books' Jenny character that it's just not worth drawing comparisons anymore. The Minorities both got lines tonight, but they were boring and only served as exposition. This show is in trouble. Delicious, ridiculously watchable trouble.

On to Bravo and their "talent breeds entertainment" reality phenom. Tonight's judges made a wildly inappropriate decision. Ricky, for all his loose-fitting, ugly, tacked-together garments, was the clear choice to go home. Also, he wears mesh hats. Mesh. Hats. Chris was fun and fat and really should have stayed. These producers seem to be making not only bad decisions based on talent, but also bad decisions based on entertainment value. Ricky's weeping and silliness will only carry us so far. Chris's pleasant queeniness would have been great for another several episodes. But I guess he was just too fat for TV. (Did I mention yet that he's overweight?) The team that won deserved to win and Michael Kors was reasonably tame, but are we really being asked to stomach such an erroneous decision? Mrs. Seal ought to flex a little of her exec-producer muscle and tell the powers that be that big, fat, gay guys are always better to watch than little sadsack shits wearing mesh hats. Yes, you read me right (again.) Mesh hats.

So, oh well, here we go. The circle game continues on. These two great shows continue to falter and we're all left stupified and sad. And we don't want that.

If we wanted that, we'd watch the news.

*CORRECTION: Apparently they do. But! Still! The thing was clearly filmed at that "We maik ur dreemz come tru!!" place in Brooklyn. So, still not "classy" or WASPy.

People I Hate