Welp. Here we go again. You asked for the return of the recaps, so here. It’s a recap. This is all your fault.
I hope y’all are proud of yourselves.
(My schedule simply won’t allow for the frantic hours of late-Thursday-night and Friday-morning writing this season, so the recaps will go live on Tuesdays, most of the time. This means you have extra days to watch the episode yourself, at your own semi-invested leisure, and I have more time to work my low-level annoyance into a nice frothy rage.)
We open in Times Square, clearly the center of the NYC fashion universe. Heidi, Tim, Nina and the Orange Korsicle address a giant crowd of tourists in front of McDonald’s and TGI Fridays, and whip them up into a math-based frenzy. “This is season 10! Which means we have done 10 seasons! That’s one more than nine! WOOOOO!”
And then: BLAMMO. We’re taken back in time, via the power of TV editing. It’s an amazing time to be alive.
The designers arrive. There’s a lot of Anya-inspired hairdos this year. Everyone interview-speaks about what unique little snowflakes they all are. Points of view are explained. “Who I am as a designer” count is already off the charts. Other various bold statements are made, including “I really like black.”
Each designer was asked to send in a completed look, which is waiting for them in the workroom. And yet when Tim explains the (basic, obvious) challenge is to create a “companion piece” in just one day, several designers still get the ZOMG shit-losing eyeballs. Also: Times Square for some reason!
Okay, the whole middle part of this show is skull-fuckingly boring, so let’s just talk about some of these people.
Buffy-with-an-i, sweet merciful Christ, so help me God. I think she has…animal-print scalp tattoos? Or simply shaves it in a cheetah print? My interest ends there.
Gunnar Deatherage, Take Two: The Deatheragering. Gunnar was among the extra designer bloat eliminated in the very first episode of season 9. He learned a lot from the experience, mostly of the “I AM GOING TO BE THE BIGGEST JOSH-LIKE ASSHOLE EVER” variety. He is Dramabrows, 2.0 and I am not pleased.
Brown-haired girl who likes knits and doesn’t know how to sew. Who just sits there and openly admits that she doesn’t know how to sew. On Project Runway. Season 10. A show that, historically speaking, involves quite a bit of sewing. I…I seriously just can’t. THIS IS WHAT ANYA HATH WROUGHT, YOU GUYS.
This guy looks exactly like Michael Costello, and even manages to score a similar bullying victim edit right out of the gate, courtesy of Gunny H. Bitchpants. The show is trying to convince me that his name is Christopher and he is a separate person, but I don’t believe it. They put that guy on All-Stars, for crap’s sake. STOP TRYING TO MAKE COSTELLO HAPPEN, SHOW.
Fabio the Freegan. The editors obviously find his dumpster-diving lifestyle very fascinating, but I’m more interested in the fact that he appears to be wearing the unholy combo of a caftan and an adult onesie.
Andrea, the nice older lady, thinks Fabio’s whole dumpster thing is just “terrific.” She thinks everybody is just terrific. Be prepared to hate anybody who talks shit about her, or who is edited to MAYBE look like they’re shooting dismissive looks at her in the workroom. (Looking at you, Buffy-with-an-i-sweet-merciful-Christ.)
Kooan. KOOOOOOOOAN. He is a wacky little animated brony gif straight from heaven. He out-weirds every other weird-haired unique-snowflake poser on the show by a bajillion percent. I love him. I shall call him Fro-Yo.
There are also a whole shitload of other people. I don’t know. They say stuff and sew or whatever. We’ll save them for another time.
Tim time. Much concern. Everybody is properly polite to him and takes his critiques seriously, though I’m starting to suspect that Tim is contractually obligated to pound his own catchphrase into the ground. Make it work. Make it work. All work and no making it make Tim a dull boy.
The runway show is endless, what with two looks by 16 different people. Blah blah Times Square stompy scowling models judges dada da da dadadadada music etc. Nobody has any regrets except for a couple people who do. FASCINATING.
And now, the top three, courtesy of the usual cracked-out judges, Patricia Fields’ Whisky-and-Cigarette Voice and Lorelai Gilmore:
Ven, the bald guy who seems kind of badass, is clearly very talented. The rose bustier only gets more amazing the more you look at it. Though I really didn’t find those pants as flattering to the model’s body as the judges did. The dress isn’t anything earth-shattering, but it’s cute and polished and not held together with tape and staples. Always a plus, ’round these parts.
The Britta from Community blond girl is way emo, you guys. This is clearly the darkest timeline.
NotCostello benefitted from that extra hit of crack the judges took, as they heaped their praise on the look he made BEFORE COMING ON THE SHOW, in who knows how much time. I mean, they went on. And on. AND ON about the gown, and how amazing the construction was. And then there’s that teeny tiny itty little Heidi Uniform on the right, which had a horrible boob-flattening bodice and the zipper jacked itself up in the back as she walked.
tl;dr NotCostello wins. The first winner of Project Runway season 10 made a little black dress, with extra emphasis on “little.” But it’s okay because he really won for the dress he didn’t actually make on the show in the parameters of the challenge so JUST LIKE OLD CRACK-TIMES.
And the bottoms:
I won’t do it, you guys. I’m sorry. I will not say anything bad about Fro-Yo. HE IS ALL I HAVE, PEOPLE.
Hideousness. Both of ‘em, though the dress she created for the challenge is extra tragic. If she lasts another week I will be shocked. And I will grudgingly learn her name. Maybe. WE’LL SEE.
Forgettable looks from…um. The one who can’t sew. With the face. Brownish hair. With points. She’s going home. I would have also accepted the other girl, but this is fine too.
Coming up on season 10: Crying! Meltdowns! Designers vanishing into the night! More crying! Candy! Cars!