Anyone who even remotely or subconsciously enjoys watching the window displays in Banana change multi-seasonally will appreciate, almost as much as I do, the infuriatingly-indulgent reality show Project Runway (on Bravo).Judged on their creativity will impossible fabrics (such as plants), impossible time constraints (is it 12 hours?), and very little money, the indefatigable contestants vie for the kudos of fashion royalty, including Michael Kors. Heidi Klum, the executive producer and general host of the program, takes the designers on a rollercoaster runway ride of high seams, low lines, scoring their laudable creations with as little enthusiasm as a journalist--a smug, Euro journalist, that is. Good thing she is so damned pretty, or the snitty comments she makes wouldn't seem so cute. (Note here that most episodes of Project Runway were shot while Klum was in her last few months of pregnancy--and dammit, she STILL looked hot.)
Tonight is the finale, and there seems to be a lack of betting going on around the office--nary a fantasy "fashion designer" game on the net.
I want Daniel V. to stich, baste, weave, taper, and snip the competition away: I heart Chloe, and Santino's heartbreakingly fragile and talented, but I'm pulling for the kid. Any takers? You win: we go to a fabulous lunch and pretend we're svelte models; I win: new heels.
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