Summer Indulgence: Project Runway/Rungay

Okay, as I enter the final and most heinous month of pregnancy, I need a little indulgence, and the new (and perhaps, final, sigh) season of Project Runway has arrived just in the nick of time. I don't know what's better: watching super suave Tim Gunn (my teaching muse) tell the designers they're all a bunch of uncreative "slackers" (oh, how many times have I wanted to use that term with my students) or reading the Project Rungay blog ("Project Runway and Fashion from a Bitchy Gay Perspective"). The judges are in fine form this season, already punchy and biting, although I can't say that I entirely agree with their winning and losing selections. Yes, the surface treatments on the vacuum cleaner bags that comprise the bottom section of Kelli's dress are brilliant. But, that bodice? Good God, those flattened, burned coffee filter boobie holders are ridiculous.

However, I was more shocked when poor, sad sack, awkward Jerry was eliminated for the killer nurse raincoat getup. I agree, it was hideously designed, constructed and styled, but there appeared to be some sort of concept, flawed though it was. But this:


Honestly, I just can't abide this garbage bag monstrosity by Cher's evil twin: the tacky, tasteless, un-age-appropriate Stella. A friend of mine made a sexier, punk rock princess frock out of a garbage bag in the sixth grade. True story. Let's hope they don't keep this talentless freak on the show just because she's an "interesting" personality.