Project Runway's tradition of forcing designers to work with unconventional materials (e.g. groceries, car parts, candy wrappers, bricks, historical documents, outdated Michael Kors faces, discarded Seal albums, an abandoned Zoe Glassner) took a fantastic turn this week. Heidi's prompt: "Make a "party-worthy look" out of a potato sack, because it's funny to me." The designers turn out some incredible frocks, the wrong people win and lose, and I get extra testy! It's a great day on the runway, world.
Last week's near-castoff Jesus starts the show by cooing how "horrifying it was to be in the bottom." Unbearably hilarious from the twink, I know. We have a real Dick Smothers on our hands with these ironic bons mots. Our resident God-lover Pamela, who wowed us last week with her thief eyes, mumbles something about "hoping to make it through," and it's nondescript enough that you know danger lies ahead. Or maybe just God himself, in the form of guest-judge Lauren Hutton. Shh, we'll get there.
On the runway, Heidi addresses the 15 remaining contestants with her newest leprechaun riddle. "You're going on a field trip. To a place that's kind of... out there. And... down there. And... a place. Or... not here. And... over there. Anyway (toots Irish flute), Tim has a learner's permit, so he's going to drive you to some farm. Shit, I said it! Well, it's a farm. There. And it's going to smell worse than Christiane and her sewing skills, so bring your inhalers. And once you're ready, get in the van. There are no seats. Fat people on the bottom."
Indeed, the designers trek off to a farm in New Jersey. They find that Tim is standing in a field and practicing his John Mellencamp gait alongside the 15 remaining models, who are all wearing burlap sacks. "Hello, designers!" he declares. "Do you get it? You're making potato sack dresses. Because there's a stupid cliche about looking good in a potato sack dress, and we're making a challenge out of it. For further anger, your models will now peer through the farm mist and select you for this challenge. Sounds grim, but think of the home viewers and how nice it is for them to laugh again."
Nameless models start selecting designers, and cutie Jay turns a cartwheel in the manure when he's picked. Tim winces and shivers even though "dirty cartwheels" is a tag in his Manhunt profile. Hypocrite! He winks at us. Mila is the last chosen contestant, and if she had any discernible identity, that might've plucked a few heartstrings on this side of the screen. No such luck. In fact, we are all stronger.
In the workroom, Mila scoffs at how her model from last challenge decided to pick southern-bred Anthony instead. "It's her loss!" she proclaims, sharpening her bangs with her stare. Except what Mila doesn't know is that Anthony is one of the greatest contestants of all time -- if only for the following confessional: "Being courteous sometimes is not an option for some people. Mila can kiss me and my entire family's asses." Our mighty magnolia blooms anew!
Then Tim breaks into the workroom and needs to look at everything.
"Pamela! Hello! I can't believe you're making this thing a one-piece. You idiot. Your ombred textures are admirable, but let's think of the time we have left. Ask your friend God about it, if he's not busy with real problems. Mila! Your look is silvery and doesn't look like a potato sack. Impressive! Don't get me wrong, it sucks right now, so keep working. Jay, you have so much work to do that I can't even look you in the eye. Andele. And Jesus. Oh, sweet Jesus. You didn't even use the burlap. Look, I know you're nine years old, and where you come from, you can put on a bow tie and win $500 from elderly homosexuals on the street in Huntington Beach. But here you need to actually follow the challenge, not skirt the challenge. That's a joke, Jesus. And not just because I know you have a skirt on underneath your outfit."
Then Tim approaches Ping's garment, which is so short and potato-sack-looking that her removal from the competition seems imminent. You can tell that Ping realized she was lost in the calculator noises of her mind. She knows her dress is garbage. Good people like me are concerned.
Onto the runway, where Heidi, Michael Kors, Nina Garcia, and guest-warlock Lauren Hutton, who is described as an "adventurer," will appraise the designs. Let's rack up the best and worst contenders.
Amy has fashioned a marvelous, voluminous gown with dyed brown and black edges. Cleverly majestic, even poetic in its awe. It reminds me a bit of Santino Rice's season-two plant dress. You can tell the materials are unconventional. but that quickly becomes what you love about the look. And Amy is adorby.
Ping needs to stop thinking in bunny languages, because this burlap box is hideous. Worse, it does not cover her model's ass, and her way back up the runway, we get an unfiltered view of her derriere. This is pretty much unforgivable. Isn't that right, Zulema Griffin?
Jesus comes up with a chocolate brown-and-olive-green dress that is largely made of ribbon and nylon. He essentially didn't do the challenge. This is pretty much unforgivable. Lauren Hutton's face warps again upon spotting this swamp thing.
Jay is declared a Top 3 candidate, even though the top on his look is unjustifiably ragged. The skirt, a frilly, feathery looking navy-blue pom-pon, is masterful.
Pamela is clearly a dyeing virtuoso, because her garment is a lovely indigo and passes as a dead-ringer for denim. It's short and tight, as Nina points out, and it does look like a cowgirl dress, but isn't that almost ingenious since the damn thing's made from burlap? It's ill-fitting, sure, but not worthy of Bottom Three status.
Mila's silvery, slinky dress looks nothing like burlap and could seriously outfit any severe-faced jailbait at a shady club of their choosing. Heidi admires it for its bustiness, but the other judges aren't so sure.
In the end, get this: Jay wins with his black, feathery forgettableness -- and Pamela, sweet, thief-eyed Pamela, is out. For the second week in a row, Jesus scored the second-to-last place gown. He or Ping should've been thrown deep into traffic by Tim Gunn himself, and I imagine next week's episodes will be make-or-break for them. Coming up: Pamela talks to Movieline about her design, and the idiocy of the judging! Throw all your worries in a burlap sack and wear it like an underpaid runway model, because we're about to trudge through this wretched manure in one big, highly journalistic cartwheel.