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Project Runway - 5.14

Barflicious won.

Oh joy. 

Oh rapture. 

Oh happiness unforeseen.

Bryant vast, so tented, such a massive circlejerk of @$$hats that they should consider opening an @$$ haberdashery.  This is where the truly conceited go to have air pumped back into their heads and cocaine blown up their bottoms.

Case in point, these two fashionistas (read: better-than-thou douchenozzles):

Seriously, would you consider a bleached blonde, overly-tanned Pink lookalike and Justin Theroux's bespectacled, be-bowtied doppelganger to be arbiters of taste? 

B!tches, please.

Thank heavens we were not lacking in absurd, hyperactive starf*ckers!

Ah, Siriano, purveyor of the clothing for the t!tless and @$$'s the market in Thailand doing for you?  I'm only asking because I am sure that except for pre-teen boys and Victoria Beckham, no one can fit into your size negative-double-zero clothing. 

By the way, newsflash, Chicken Feathers:  that hairdo was so over in 2005.

Now how about this pair of Z-listed butt-sniffing sh!twits getting a whiff of Weinstein:

Harvey, love what you do for the movie industry, but stop forcing the lead actresses to wear that fluffy crap your old lady manufactures.  It's not that impressive.  And for the love of Yahweh, get on the treadmill or the crew of the Enterprise are going to mistake you for a future extinct species and beam you up.

Michelle, honey, I have warned you before about wearing animal prints.  Evidently you chose not to heed me because right now Charlie Sheen is drunk-dialing Heidi Fleiss for your going rate. 

As for you, you tanorexic hag, you need to 1) stop tanning, because your face looks like an alligator bag; 2) stop getting Botox because the alligator bag looks like it's been dipped in bikini wax; and 3) stop getting plastic surgery because your cheeks are going to envelop your eyes the next time.  And gain some weight, please. 

Why, oh, why did the Ramos sisters have to die while this parasite continues to exist?

Hey, I've got an idea:  Harvey, you get started on the Hag's liquid diet; Hag, you eat Harvey's meals; and Michelle, go find something else to wear because you're one step away from starring in Pretty Woman II:  It's $6,000 This Time, Mister, Because Inflation Happens.

There were some talented, noteworthy people who attended, including that loveable b!tchburger, Jay McCarroll, who chose to show up covered head-to-toe in varying shades of piss...

Jay, honey, we need to talk, because all I can think is "Colonel Mustard, with the polka-dotted purse, in the fashion tent."

Uncle Nick, how I love you - despite your fixation with America's most famous night-vision-screwing, vain and vapid debutante, Paris Hilton - you're hot and you made some pretty stuff way back when and you made an appearance on Project Runway Canada.  Kisses, Hot Uncly Nicky! 

As for you, Stella, you are pure industry platinum.  I want you to succeed - wildly - mainly because you're not the kind of girl to bend over and take it without demanding lube and a warm-up when judges critique you.

But wait! 

What light from yonder window breaks? 

It is the East and Laura Bennett is the sun!

Laura, this is me, whipping out my credit card, ready to buy something that you have made because, unlike most of these hacks, you have class, style, taste and wit.

(FYI - that person hanging off of Madame Bennett, hoping to nail some of her leftovers, is Carmen Webber, one of the early auf'ings of Season IV.)

And now let's meet the judges:

Tim Gunn, I love you.  That much has already been established.  Thank you for being fabulous.  You were a much better judge that that selfish, histrionic mediawhore JLo could ever be.  Love you lots, O Silver Fox!

Nina Garcia, I find that your perspective as a fashionista is overrated.  You're the nitwit who went dripping-wet-batsh!t-bonkers for Keith Michael's first look in Season III - a glorified bedsheet with "adorable" little red buttons.   Your time has come and gone.  I wish you luck at Marie Claire as you attempt to extend your influence over the masses, but I, for one, have no interest in your point of view anymore.  Adios.

Michael Kors, you have some witty one-liners and you point out the obvious rather well, but you need to lay off the tanning.  Not only is it bad for your skin, but it makes you look like an escaped Oompa-Loompa from Willy Wonka's Chocolate Factory who found a stash of growth hormones.  I have no objections to you other than that, so you can stay with the show.

Heidi Klum, you have something interesting to say, but you are not "The Body" - that's Elle MacPherson.  No more attempting to usurp others' titles, Teutonic Titwillow, and please, for the love of your God and those little fishes, wear a longer skirt.  Mini-skirts are acceptable on women between the ages of 18 - 29; after that, no matter how good your legs are, it's just pathetic and inappropriate.

You looked lovely this time, and you should consider trotting this look out more often.  I am ready to give you one more chance to continue on this show.

Now, I already went through each of these ladies, so here's all of my critiques:

Kenley  |  Korto  |  Leanne

As for the final decision...all I can say is, "Once again, you have managed to wedge your crania into your sphincters, judges.  Congratulations on nominating a dry cleaner's nightmare for the win."

This is how it went down in my book:

BRONZE - Kenley, I expected more.  You showed one must-have look, but the rest of your collection was overworked and garish.  Restraint, my little tugboat princess, restraint is key.  Better luck in the future.

SILVER - Leanne, your collection, while lovely with regards to color scheme, is impossible in reality.   Your flaps will look good only on that minute percentage of the world that is tall and skinny, and I will never seek you out as someone to watch or buy.  You are a niche designer and you have little concept of what looks good on a woman.  Like Sebelia, you will fade back into obscurity.  Good-bye.

GOLD - Korto, in this forum, my opinion is the only one that matters and you were the winner here.  I am the average, everyday woman who wants clothes that look good on me and you are the only one who showed anything I'd like to wear.  You have an excellent grasp of color and form and I am excited to see what will come of you in the future.  Well done, madam, very well done.

This is my final post for Project Runway for this season. 

Thank you to all who have taken the time to read my critiques.  I hope you have enjoyed yourselves, had a laugh or two, and learned something about how real women relate to fashion.

Green Owl will return next season as the voice of the actual consumer among the field of men-who-don't-wear-this-stuff-but-feel-they-have-the-right-to-review, @$$-kissers, sucker-uppers and pseudo-quasi-intellectuals.

Much love,

Green Owl


I can't wait for next season. Also, I'm anticipating Ru-Paul's drag queen competition. Men in dresses usually cat-fight better than anorexic women fighting over a Twinkie.