Do you ever walk into a Kids 'R Us -- pie-eyed and a little light-headed -- and say, "I wish I had created everything here"? And in your mind you're talking to someone, like Hobbes the tiger or Eleanor Roosevelt? Because you're 90, maybe? Project Runway was for you last night, I think. It wasn't for me. There was too little of Anthony hollering Sugarbaker catchphrases, too many of Janeane's Three Faces of Eve schisms between confidence and neurosis, and a total dearth of Michael Kors's rap-battle put-downs. But there were kiddies who wore frilly dresses, and sometimes (like in real life) that produced bitchy results.
On the runway, Heidi introduces today's challenge with some vindication -- as if, say, she has 40 kids and the designers don't know how good they have it. "Here come your models!" she squeaks. Out trot the 10 little ones, who each receive "oohs," "aahs," and a few muttered tips about being too fat for this business.
One by one, the little girls introduce themselves and announce who they've been drafted into working with. Sho cute! And frightening. Jonathan remarks about how they're "so little," and he stops short of divulging an elaborate dropkick fantasy on a cloud of taffeta. For the rest of the designers, the cuteness sends them into hare-brained versions of creative breakthroughs.
Jesse: "Mine will be inspired by Madeline. As a child, I knew I had the potential to one day to craft legitimate European cliches. I hitch that wagon to a star today."
Emilio: "Children don't want stupid dresses! They want hoodies and knits! They want to be cool! That's why, at the end of this episode, I will produce a frilly pink dress. Right. I don't know either."
Janeane: "This is only my 14th confessional this episode, if you can believe it. I'll talk at length about a childhood memory, thank you. A friend of mine had an orange romper that I was so jealous of! I need to make that romper now. (Teeth chattering.) I'm feeling confident! (Crying.) Yes! (Hyperventilating.) Nheh-heh! (Red-faced, convulsive.) Oh, God. Why did I give up cake school?"
Tim Gunn appears in the workroom and starts to look over his glasses, which means either a twist is coming, or it's a day ending in "y."
"Designers!" he declares. "This kiddie shit is all fine. But when you have a chance, make a corresponding look for your actual models. It's going to walk the runway tomorrow! Come on. Did you think this was the whole challenge? Noah Cyrus isn't your guest-judge, sweethearts, and that's not just because we couldn't book her. Carry on."
As the contestants scramble, sew, and use "children's dress forms" that look exactly like their normal ones, Anthony starts cawing and sassing loudly. Seizing an opportunity to make something happen the designers tape over his mouth and challenge him to stop talking as long as he can. He makes it 14 minutes and 56 seconds, which reminds me of that Sugar Ray album 14:59, which I see as a violent omen.
Onto the runway, where we watch the little mouseketeers prance and pose like the world demands.
Heidi, Michael, and Nina, the original cast of The New Mickey Mouse Club, all make it for the judging. They're joined by some woman without a Jive record deal named Tory Birch.
Janeane whipped up very related dresses -- the model's featured a melon-colored bolero and zebra-print blouse while the juniors look featured a melon tank and zebra-print leggings. You can buy both of these pieces at a mall. She should've dotted the bolero in Sbarro's pizza sauce to make it witty, or fashioned scarves out of Auntie Anne's pretzels. Just something.
Jay's two looks featured plum ripples and an austere use of black. Both are cute and passable, like Jay himself.
Jesse paired red and gray for a private school-looking ensemble combo. The strange lines and hem discolored his ingenuity for me, even more so than the abundance of a hue I can only describe as "graphite."
Seth Aaron produced two incredible looks: One features a Mila-reminiscent, black-and-white, crosshatched zip-up tailored to perfection, with puffy shoulders to offset the rigid fit. The child's look is a frillier black-and-white affair with pink watermelon-looking pocket detailing. Score another for the sewing Lou Reed.
Jonathan's outfits didn't match -- the child's was a lemon-colored Sunday dress, and the model's was one of those flaky white Bai Ling contraptions. They're decent. But "decent" is anathema to the Bai Ling Code of Conduct, and I expect her to call in with a ruling any minute.
Amy blew it, and she did it in vomit colors too. We were treated to two teal-and-orange looks, the child's ensemble featuring a cute teal sweater and the model's featuring an obnoxiously bold skirt (pant?) print. The color choices reminded me of an early episode of Trading Spaces, back when you might've come home to a sherbet colored fireplace with teal pottery on the mantel because it's "a little fun and kooky." Paige Davis, you did this to us.
Seth Aaron wins the challenge, his first of the season. He enacts a little fist-pump medley, more in the range of Kevin McAllister (Home Alone) than DJ Pauly D. And that's appropriate! Heidi stares down Amy and Janeane and tells them they offended the Taste Buddhas very much. Patting her own pregnant stomach, Heidi peers into Janeane and compels her to give birth to her own satanic elimination, and out of the womb it's wearing a horrible bolero. Well, we all know what this means: I interview Janeane next, and we'll talk all about crying on national TV, Bryant Park, and the judge who leaves her cold to this day. We'll all cry, in fact.