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.

Posh as Mulch

I am neither a very experienced, nor competent, gardener, but I like to read books by them. I also have an ongoing fantasy that my rather barren backyard houses a lovely potager overflowing with colorful chard, sweet sugar snap peas, and an array of fragrant herbs. Alas, my backyard contains no such thing, but I did work up the motivation to stick a few tomatoes and peppers in the ground. I've heard from serious gardeners that newspaper makes great mulch and, hey, what a wonderful form of recycling.

So when I planted my little tomatoes a few weeks ago, I had the serendipitous experience of using Posh as mulch. I love that Juergen Teller shot Victoria Beckham being devoured by a giant Marc Jacobs shopping bag. Truth be told, I don't always get Juergen Teller, but I certainly appreciate his twisted sense of humor on this one. Besides, Posh always looks so extreme and alien-like with that ironed bob and skeletal face, but one can't deny that the gal has great gams.

My *Star* Turn

Check out my star turn on the Doodlewhore site. Only may pal Sugs could capture the true heinousness of la Sevigny:

Anyone Can Be a Designer

In general, I like my blog to be all about positivity. However, when my dear friend Jason alerted me to Chloe Sevigny's new line of clothing, I knew a rant was in order. I have long loathed Chloe Sevigny's unique and almost unequivocally figure unflattering fashion sense. Ms. Sevigny's wardrobe abominations and reluctance to powder her nose have gained her the rare status of "frequent offender" on the Go Fug Yourself site (my favorite guilty pleasure). Some would argue that Ms. Sevigny is a fashion impresario and if one sticks to the dictionary definition of "a person who puts on or sponsors an entertainment," this could be an accurate description. I'm just trying to imagine if Marc Jacobs or top American fashion designer Michael Kors or those cuties Lazaro Hernandez and Jack McCollough at Proenza Schouler are amused by Ms. Sevigny's audacity at assuming the role of designer. I know it chaps my a** when type bastardizing buffoons with a cracked copy of Photoshop call themselves graphics (with an "s") designers.

By the way, the look above is the most tasteful of the entire collection.