An autumn chill crept into the Parsons building as Heidi strutted down the runway in a black frock, telling the designers that while there are only eight sewtestants left, a show at Fashion Week is far from guaranteed for any of them. Schadenfreude, Heidi, is it your middle name? As always, there are spoilers inside, so click, click, click at your own risk!
This week’s challenge is to create a look for a band called The Sheepdogs. Judging by their hair-don’ts, The Sheepdogs are part canine. Big, fluffy Canadian canines. The Sheepdogs won a contest held by Rolling Stone magazine to be promoted as “the best unsigned band of whatever” (deets on that contest were low) and now these poor Canucks are to be subjected to the pins and prods of our beloved barely tolerated sewtestants as they create a “look” to be used in a photoshoot for a Rolling Stone cover featuring these shaggy loonies.
A quick scoot off to some bar and we’re introduced to Peter Butler, chief makeup abuser for Garnier. Seriously. Dude. Too. Much. Mascara. Tim announces the designers are working in teams of four, but thankfully, their designs will be judged separately, since there will only be one winning look used in the photo shoot. Performance note: Miss Bertina was gracious and cheerful when she learned that Colorblind Uniball and Racist Barbie were on the same team. Meds adjusted? Meditation kicking in? Whatever it is, keep on doin’ it, miss lady.
The Sheepdogs step on stage and the sewtestants issue a collective “ugh.” As the camera panned across our plucky contenders, thought bubbles appeared: “Oh em gee, Becky, it’s boys!” “Boys have boy parts and men’s business and things of that nature! Ewwww.” “I can’t just serge two pieces of fabric together and call it a dress!” “I have to make something structured! Ewwww.”
The band began to play their song, “Dirge For Our Careers,” and they rocked it loud. They went all the way to elevenses. Miss Bertina just turned down her hearing aid and thought of sunnier days, days spent in a field in upstate New York, where a handsome young man once gave her a sugar cube. Ohio Oliver, on the other hand, was visibly repulsed by the music. So loud! So brash! So full of life! So very, very un-Oliver. The Lifetime Lady Parts Network thoughtfully provided a small “life meter” bar at the bottom of the screen under Oliver and we saw those little green hearts turn red, one by one.
At Mood, the sewtestants return to their normal tropes. Ohio Oliver picks drab fabrics, Tim yells at the designers to hurry up, Racist Barbie overspends and lies to Miss Bertina, Colorblind Uniball picks random fabrics. Seriously — how can he pick a fabric that has a color design? What does he see? It must all be shades of gray, or if the colors are close enough in brightness, it must all look like no pattern at all.
Oh no! Mascara Man appears in the workroom, and demands product placement for Garnier. Oh, it’s a Garnier challenge. Oh, Garnier, you’re scamp, a tramp and a mean old vamp, you certainly are. When the product placement time is over, we squelch back up to the workroom where Gay Ryan Reynolds is walking around in his black bikini and showing off his patchy leg hair, Enya is sipping dye through a straw, and Oliver’s last few heart lights start flickering out. Ohio Oliver can’t stop complaining about how hugely giantly fatty fat fat his enormous band member is. Oh, did I say member? I did. I’m twelve. Tee hee.
But not Ohio Oliver! He’s not twelve. He’s an insignificant little bug who needs to be squashed. Come on, queen. Gather the remnants of your spotty accent up and stop with the size-ist remarks, especially about someone who is not at all fat. Die in a fire, Ohio Oliver.
Tim squires the various members of The Sheepdogs around and the designers are showing some very feminine prints to be used in these garments for some fairly masculine dudes. Seeing that some of the sewtestants are menz, and are wearing menzwear, why don’t they look at how some of these garments are constructed as a guideline? Oh, what do I know, I can sew curtains and that’s about it.
With the exception of Enya sharing some fabric with Smeagol, there’s very little bonhomie in the work room. Almost every designer seems to be saying, if “so and so” makes a horrid design, I don’t care, because we’re all responsible for our own look. Nice psychological twist there, Miss Heidi. Divide and conquer. Did you learn that at Institute Technologie Geist Schraube?
As the time ticks down, Ohio Oliver’s accent disappears, and once again Enya’s accent takes a jet on down to Jamaica. Is there some sort of accent symbiosis going on between them? Most designers are bemoaning the lack of time, except for Smeagol. Pretty! He says under his breath. “We wants it, we needs it. Must have the precious. They stole it from us. Sneaky little hobbitses. Wicked, tricksy, false!” Smeagol is making that pleather jacket with the braided fringe and he is working like a happy little hobbit.
Time’s up and we’re off to the runway. Except we’re not doing a traditional runway with these boys from the tundra, they are going to perform two additional hard rockin’ whiskey swillin’ seventies rehashin’ jam-o-lams. Side note to Heidi and the other producers: Really? This is the kind of music you think the viewers of this show listen to? Perhaps some of us did in our childhoods, or we might on a mellow late fall afternoon, a mulled cider in hand, oblique rays of sunlight slipping in through wooden slats as we watch the leaves fall. But on a random Thursday evening? Really?
The boys do their songs and, as Nina Garcia Fashion Director For Marie Claire Magazine would say, they look sad. Really, really sad. Like they need to be in that ad for Abilify where the black cloud follows that lady around.
In order to lighten the mood, Sister Kors swings into action and eviscerates the outfits presented for this episode. I mean, he really works it out, to the point where one must wonder if he’s doing an hour-long audition for Last Comic Standing. Meana Garzilla gamely plays along, throwing in a pointed barb here and there, and guest judge / trainwreck Adam Lambert tries to get in the game, but is steamrollered by the wit and wisdom of Miss Michael. Oh Adam, don’cha know you can’t play with the grownups yet? Back to the kiddie table with you.
The judges deliberate and really the question of the day is “which one did we hate the least?” Here’s how it works out. Miss Bertina takes second, and Smeagol wins top spot, probably for that pleather jacket with the braided fringe. Well done Smeagol. Racist Barbie takes third, Gay Ryan Reynolds fourth, Colorblind Uniball fifth, Enya sixth, and we’re down to Kimberly and Ohio Oliver. A distant drumbeat grows louder. It sounds like a heart beat, but no. This rhythmic pounding resolves into the sound of thousands of stomping feet, feet owned by people who are height / weight proportionate. Kimberly takes seventh place and Ohio Oliver is out. Heidi opens the gladiator gates and in march all the height / weight proportionate people who Ohio Oliver has been calling “fat” ever since he started on this show. There is a great rending and tearing and a cheer goes up from the middle of the crowd. Ohio Oliver is dead!
Next week on Project Runway: Look to the past! Enya loses her lunch money! Bert makes a Roller Barbie outfit and Racist Barbie is mad! Michael Kors cackles! Derision! Delusion! Confusion!
