Manolo says, this week the producers of the Project Runway decided that it would be amusing to bring back the Angela and the Vincent for one more week to torment the other designers and to remind us why we were happy when these two lunatics were sent away in shame, not that they would have noticed, as both are so convinced of their own genius.

And now the Manolo will pretend that this never happened.

And so the five desginers who remain were set to the task of producing the black-and-white dress of the cocktails, only they had to use ALL of the fabric they purchased, as if this were your poor hillbilly granny, who survived the Great Depression in the Kentucky, and would never consider not using every piece of scrap in her “box of notions”.

Nothing says “sophistication” to the Manolo like the forced frugality.

But such is the crazy make-the-couture-in-two-days world in which our television friends reside.

So it was goodbye to our regal Queen Kayne, who when forced to “edit” himself, decided that the best way to do so was with the little black dress with the sneaker lacing up the back. Better if the Kayne had stayed true to himself and made the crazy-sexy, spangly black-and-white pageant cocktail gown, all decolletage and rhinestones with the long train.

Jeffrey produced the design he described as “hip and young”, yes, maybe if this is the 1983 and you are the Jennifer Beals. Michel Kors keeps seeing the Gwen Steffani. The Manolo keeps seeing Rosanne Arquette in the Desperately Seeking Susan.

Uli…boring…boring…boring. You know it is almost over when the judges begin to viciously mock your accent. What next the tomatoes and the rotten eggs?

Michael produced the very pretty dress, although the Manolo was not especially fond of the belt, which savored of the wickety-wack. But the girl worked it and thus Michael is almost certain to be one of the fashion week three.

Finally, the winner was the Laura, perhaps it was the pregnancy hormones talking, but the Manolo has never seen anyone who seemed less able to take the criticism, and at that moment he was hoping that the producers had hidden from her all of the sharp objects.

Ayyyy! The Ice Queen, she has melted into the puddle of tears!

Although to the credit of the Laura, she did listen to what was said, and she benefited from it, producing one of the best things the Manolo has seen this season. Bravo!

Now it is on to the fashion week, where we will find that the final three are (and here the Manolo guesses) Michael, Laura, and Jeffrey, with the Uli as the decoy.

Andiamo!

Manolo says, the Couture Challenge? In two days? This it is not the couture. You cannot do the couture in two days! And, most assuredly of everything, you cannot do the couture without the old French ladies.

Where, the Manolo asks, are the old French ladies?

You have to have the old French ladies to do the tiny-little-stitch sewing, and the fancy beading, and the ruching, and everything that is delicate and expensive and good about the couture. Without the old French ladies you have nothing, just clothes.

But, the producers have gone to the trouble of flying to the Paris to do the show, and so the facsimilie of the couture it must be produced by the designers.

And the winner, and deservedly so, was the odious Jeffrey, who does seem to have the talent. His crazy yellow plaid dress was the most innovative and entertaining and alive of all of the garments on the runway. It actually looked good.

Although, to wear this would require the clean underwear, as this garment it was cut all the way up to the girl’s hoochie coochie. The Ooo La La, indeed!

As for the rest…meh, meh, meh.

The Ulli did what the Ulli always does, which is to first imagine that she is designing the gown for herself and work from there. And the result it was the Ulli thing, only with the better fabric and the more refined stitching. Yes, she has her own vision, but frankly the Manolo he is tired of it. Flowy, flowy, loosey-goosey, hippy-dippy, brady-drapy and meh! Take it away!

The Laura, she did what the Laura always does, which is to first imagine that she is designing the gown for herself and work from there. And the result it was the Laura thing, with the black and the plunging, sternum-displying front and the good silhouette that looks like something we have seen in the past. As for the lace…meh! Take it away!

The Kayne did what the Kayne always does, which is to first imagine that he is designing the gown for himself and work from there. And the result was the Kayne thing. The skirt it was so beautiful and the color perfect, but the bodice was the wreck of the train, with the pieces flying everywhere and the stripes and the corset lacing and the gold mesh and the hundred-piece marching bands and the baton twirlers worked into it….meh! Take it away!

The Michael….the Manolo’s beloved Michael, who rarely misses the mark….The Manolo he had to avert his eyes from this disaster. Take it away!

And finally, bringing up the back, was the Vincent who produced something one would be ashamed to see come out of the junior high school home economics class. Yes, it had the nice fabric, but it was terrible, badly cut, badly made. Meh! Take him away!

And they did.

Manolo says, Paris and the Project Runway? C’est Magnifique!

Jetsetters?

Ayyyy! Let the Manolo be the first to say that this is not the possee that the Manolo would want to take with him to the Ibiza. The Manolo usually associates with the better class of drama queens, airheads, recovering junkies, and befuddled old men.

But, one must “make it work” and so this motley crew went at their appointed task with the vengeance, producing the outfits that were mostly fit for wearing to the Salvation Army, where they could then be exchanged for something more stylish and au courant.

For the example, the Ulli was ready to jet set it out the back door and onto the Magic Bus for the mystical journey to the Humboldt County with the Manson Family. Very 2006, that.

And at this point the Manolo thought…One. Trick. My. Pretty. Psychedelic. Pony.

Then there was the “costume” produced by the Kayne, the costume which the Tim described as “too much Elvis”.

To which the Manolo immediately replied, there is no such things as the too much Elvis. It is impossible to have too much Elvis!

In the fact, the Manolo is of the opinion that the world needs more of the Elvis. Fat Elvis, Thin Elvis, Young Elvis, Old Elvis, Elvis giving away the pink Cadillacs to the strangers, Elvis treating his friends to the fried peanut butter, bacon, and banana sandwiches, Elvis spreading joy like glitter everywhere he goes!

Yes, we now mock the Elvis for his fashion choices, but we forget that Elvis was always of the moment, and that even when he appeared in the be-rhinestoned jumpsuits he was representing the pure and distilled essence of the 1970s show business.

The problem with the outfit of the Kayne was indeed not too much of the Elvis, it was too much cheap Elvis.

Of the course, the worst of the worst was the outfit produced by the Angela, who combined so many awful elements that the Manolo fully expected the very Earth to open up, rent asunder by the rift in the space-time continuum caused by the concentration of too much crap, and swallow her down to Hell.

Sadly, we who were offended had to be satisfied with the Angela being sent away, although not as one would have hoped covered in the tar and feathers.

Laura produced something that looked good, although not something the Manolo would have thought was for the travelling. And the Vincent made the outfit that the Manolo himself would have worn, but only if it were correctly tailored and the jersey made from the triple cashmere.

And when the Michael Kors criticized this outfit for being too basic and boring, the Manolo thought that undoubtedly the Kors believed it could have been greatly enlivened with the addition of the basic black blazer, which could never be removed, and which would also look good on one’s mother.

As for the winner, Jeffrey, the Manolo asks you, did we not see this very outfit on the Mick Jagger in the year 1990? Although, the Manolo doubts that the Mick would have been so silly as to have called conspicuous attention to the lack of bulge in his crotch.

Again, it was the Michael who impressed the Manolo most. Not because it was to his exact taste, but because he took something the Manolo despises–the baggy goth parachute pants with the superfluous external straps– and made them into something the Manolo can almost tolerate, simply by making them out of the seersucker. This was the most amusing and impressive display of wit, and it worked.

Manolo says, this episode of the Project Runway, it had it all: the anger, the tears, the ladies of the certain size, the Micheal Kors and the mother of the Michael Kors in the Mommy-and-Me outfits!

Ayyyyyyyy! Such fun!

First, allow the Manolo to say, adieu, sweet Barbie Prince Bob. Yes, everything you made looked as if it was something you had just purchased down at the Ross Dress for Less, but you were still the nice guy and you had the big gym-made biceps.

Second, allow the Manolo to congratulate the crazy Vincent for designing what was the superior outfit of the evening. Even the better, Vincent turned out to be the mensch, the person who knew when it was appropriate to apologize and was not afraid to tell someone so. Yes, he is wound three turns too tight, but he is not the bad person.

Speaking of the bad person, the Manolo cannot help but think that the Jeffrey must have been the much more pleasant person as the junkie. Indeed, slumped against the wall in the heroin stupor would be infinately superior to the rude, angry, aggressive, petulant child he is sober.

And here the Manolo he is risking much scorn and anger from the recovering-addict-American community, but what can he do, there are those people who would simply be better company stoned.

The Jeffrey he does have the sympathy of the Manolo, as he is undoubtedly tormented in ways we cannot know, but this it is not the excuse for being abusive to someone’s mama.

As for the rest of this episode, the Manolo loved the mothers, this was the wonderful, stupdenous idea from the producers. Here, the Manolo thought, was the chance for these aspiring designers to dress the real, everyday woman in all of her glory. Brilliant!

There are few things that test the true ability of the designer than having to dress the woman who is not the skinny teenager with the protruding hip bones and the stick legs. Just ask Alison from the last week’s challenge.

The Manolo thought that the outfits produced by Michael and Uli were quite good, and that the Kayne did much better than the judges gave him credit for. Laura’s outfit made the Manolo think of something the executive secretary of the certain age would wear to the office, definitely not something to be worn on the cruise. As for the Jeffrey’s and Angela’s…ayyyyyyyy! Only in the mind of the Angela could the shaky-shaky fringe = Audrey Hepburn.

Finally, the Manolo loves, loves, loves the Joan Kors.

This woman she needs her own show on the Bravo Network: The Joan Kors Koffee Klatch. Just Joan sitting around drinking the coffee, chain smoking the Lucky Strikes, discussing whatever happens to be in her mind at that moment with whatever guest happens to drop by. The Manolo would definitely watch that.

P.S. The super fantastic Laura K. of the super fantastic Blogging the Project Runway, reminds the Manolo that this latest challenge, like at least two of the previous challenges, was first suggested and discussed by the very canny readers of the Blogging the Project Runway, long before the producers ever “thought” of them.

For the past several months the Manolo has considered the Blogging the Project Runway to be the single most important resource on the internets for the Project Runway television show, indeed, it is far more important and informative than the filled with fluff and nonsense website of the Bravo. (The Manolo only goes to the Bravo site to hear the Tim Gunn’s podcasts.)

If you love the Project Runway you should be reading the Blogging the Project Runway.

Manolo says, poor Alison, sent away for the crime of making her model look like the Ivanka Trump.

Yes, Alison’s outfit was the monstrosity, although it was certainly not worse than the terrible tinfoil fairy costume of the Kayne. But the Kayne with his stereotypically bitchy-flamboyant personality and the panicky Vincent, always on the verge of blowing the fuse, are “good television” and so the sweet and unoffensive, vanilla-flavored Allison was dumped. Do not worry, she is talented and nice and knows how to make the clothes, so she will be fine.

As for the top finishers, Michael, Jeffrey, and Laura, each was quite good, although once again, it was the Michael who stood out and deserved to win. His outfit it was beautiful and original and completely wearable, indeed it was the sort of thing that could be worn to the royal wedding…well, perhaps for one of the minor nobles, like one of Prince Michael’s childrens.

Likewise, Jeffrey proved himself to be the Master of the Trash with his marvelous and innovative dress. And where did that come from? To this point he has shown so little of the talent that this outfit seemed to be sui generis, as if it had emerged fully formed from his neck tattoo.

As for the Laura, Manolo is now convinced that this finish, third place, it is the best the Laura can hope for. Her dress was elegant, simple, and beautiful, but as always derivative. Yes, the dress was made out of the peanut sacks, but still we have seen this dress somewhere before. And this is the problem. She has impeccable taste, but her talent as the designer, it is to make beautiful tasteful objects that seem powerfully familiar. Because of this, she will be hard pressed to win the competition.

Of the course, the Laura, she is also turning out to be the prize bitch, one cannot keep her pie hole shut when she should. But because she is also very smart the Manolo believes that this behavior is partly calculated, but only partly.

As for the others: Robert appears to the Manolo to be sinking under the weight of his own despondency; Uli, the Little German Engine that Could, chugs along, able to make the flowing, shapless hippy dress even when given nothing more than the mound of shiny garbage; and Angela, meh. She needs to turn up the evil if she hopes to stay longer than her talent would justify.

Meanwhile, the returned Michael Kors continues to delight us with his scathing wit and catty bon mots. Indeed, the Manolo is now looking for the opportunity to work the phrase “looks like the paper brioche” into his everyday conversation.

And then there is Nina. Nina, Nina, Nina. So beautiful, so bitchy, so mean.

Nina, the Manolo feels this great and unaccountable affection for you. He would love to have the intimate lunch with you. The Manolo shall order the poached salmon and the green salad, you shall have the extra rare steak with the tumbler of scotch and the side order of bile. Such fun!

As for the guest judge, Rachel Zoe, all the Manolo can say is that she would have been the good choice last year, before she was over.

Manolo says, behold the fashion icon!

Yes, the Cher she was the odd choice for the fashion icon, but otherwise, the Manolo he loved this challenge!

It was such the pleasant change from the previous challenge which involved, as the Manolo remembers it, making the polyester twin-sets for the Wal-Mart.

The results of this week, they did not disappoint, as the Michael Knight, who is the Manolo’s official favorite, was the winner. The Manolo he cannot heap enough of the praise on the Michael, who is talented, smart, gracious, kind, humble, and yet confident enough in his own abilites. He even loves his mama! Such the nice young man.

And, his outfit with the hot pants, it was the best by far.

Likewise, the hippy drippy stoner Bradley deserved to be sent away, if for no other reason than not knowing anything about the Cher and her “style”.

This it was also the week during which others things became apparent and official:

Vincent has no talent, except for the panic and the self-sabotage. Ayyyyyyy, this man, he needs to go away.

Barbie Boy Robert has no imagination, not even for something so obvious as to how to dress the Jackie O. Yes, perhaps he can sew, but his designs are blah, blah, blah. The rope belt on his jacket…please, do not make the Manolo comment upon such things.

Jeffery would be nothing without the gimmick of the aggressive neck tattoo. He is the whiner who does not even have the talent to start the good fight in the sewing room. Even the Madonna, who has worn many stupid things, would not have worn his outfit.

Angela, who only wishes to be loved in her own egomaniacally selfish and destructive way, is smart enough to have learned from her previous mistakes. Angela + Audrey Hepburn it should equal disaster, but oddly it did not. Perhaps it was the brief contact last week with the Laura and the Michael.

Speaking of the Laura, the Manolo is now waiting for her to show up one day in the coat made from the fur of the 101 dalmatians.

Of the course, the best news of the week was that the Michael Kors he has returned! Finally, we were given the weekly dose of the high-quality snark which our fragile systems and this show so desperately require.

Manolo says, this week the previews for the Project Runway they promised much entertainment as someone was to be pitched from the show. And, indeed, someone was pitched from the show, the Keith who was unceremoniously shown to the exit by the Tim Gunn, in the full the Dean of the College mode.

The Manolo is sorry to see this happen. First he is sorry to see the Keith sent packing as he was not only the very talented designer (his dress in the doggy challenge it was absolutely beautiful), but also the Keith he was becoming the perfect villain; arrogant, cool, back-biting, handsome, egocentric, talented, willing to break the rules to advance himself. The perfect dramatic foil to the others, and now, like the Malan, he is gone and will be terribly missed.

Of the course, to the Manolo, much worse than being sent away, was being sent away for such the trivial matter, and so undramatically. There was no build up to the moment, just Kayne crying like the titty-baby tattletale because he had found the pattern books, and then the Head Master Tim appearing at the door to send the bad boy down from school.

Think how much better this episode would have been if the Keith, he had really done something evil, like attempting to slowly poison the other contestants with the strychnine. Now, that would have been the television worth the watching!

As for the challenge of the week, in the word: Meh.

Design the mildly trendy, but not too challenging outfit that may be mass retailed to the poor girls who must slave in the offices. You have three of the American dollars to spend on material.

And thus, we the humble viewers were once again given the teams, and watched as they produced the art by committee, turning out the bland and blah outfits that would not be out of place in the Jacqueline Smith collection at the Kmart.

At the least, the super fantastic Michael (the Manolo’s new favorite) and Laura, (she of the sternum that could cut glass) restrained the wickety-wacking ways of the Angela, to produce the short jackety-panty outfit that captured the Macys’ INC gestalt perfectly. To which the Manolo would reply, Ho-Hum.

Not even the appearance of Howie Mandel in the cameo as the Macys’ Man could enliven the proceedings.

As for the judging, please, please, please, Micheal Kors come home. You are needed now more than ever.

Special Project Runway Bonus Question: If you were to be forced to have your neck tattooed, at the gun point, what would you have put on there? Extra credit if it includes the name of the major midwestern American city.

Manolo says, Ayyyyy! Chiquitita! Look at the little doggies!

The Manolo he loves the little doggies and thinks that this week’s challenge it was the excellent one. And the designers they seemed to rise to this challenge, as the outfits that were sent down the runway on the models and the dogs they were mostly quite good. Even the dopey stoner Bradley managed to pull together, in extremis, something worthy of wearing, thus briefly delaying his inevitable exit from the show.

At the ending, the Manolo he fully agreed with the choice of the winner. The dress of the Uli, it was beautiful and perfect and well-made and fully deserved to win. Likewise, the Manolo he completely agreed with the choice of the loser, and he was not sorry to see the schlumping whiney Katherine be sent away, if not for her blah-blah dress then for her passive-aggressive personality.

Better, the Manolo thinks, to keep the Angela, who has aggressive-abrasive personality, and designed the unusual, but unflattering balloon skirt and too tight top with the abundance of the wickety-wack. She is entertainingly annoying, and her outfit, it was at the least original (that is if one can discount the fact that the Angela, she was herself already wearing it).

Speaking of the personalities, it is not the secret that the Manolo he is the man of peace, one who is not given much to violence, but as he watched this episode, the Manolo could feel rising in his breast the powerful desire to jack-slap the smirk off the face of the Keith; he is so very annoying and smug and smirky. Yes, his dress it was beautiful, and he has much talent, but his utter disdain for the others makes the Manolo long for the preening insecurity of the Santino, makes the Manolo long to shove the Keith down the long flight of stairs.

Speaking again of the personalities, Manolo asks, where have you gone Micheal Kors? The nation turns its lonely eyes to you, woo, woo, wooo. What’s that you say, Mrs Garcia-son, Bitchin’ Mike has left and gone away, hey, hey, hey.

In the stead we again have the greatly reserved Vera Wang, she of the unflattering and dated hair-do. Yes, she is nice and smart, and knows the clothes, but nice and smart they are not really what is needed, are they?

As for the other celebrity judge, the Donald Trump’s not-so-Mini Me, Ivanka, what is there to say about her but that she is exceedingly well-groomed and has the deep Trumpish voice. Perhaps she is also the keen judge of the clothes, although the Manolo he would not know this, as every time she appeared on the television he was distracted by her glossy sheen, which may perhaps be likened to the fatty juices glistening on the well-marbled slab of prime rib.

Please, Micheal Kors, please come home to us soon. The Project Runway, it is just not the same without you and your catty, sharp-witted barbs.

Finally, the teaser preview of the next week, it has the Manolo sitting on the edge of his well-appointed seat, wondering who will be sent away and for what offense. Of the course, there is much good speculation over at the Manolo’s beloved Blogging the Project Runway.

Manolo says, of the course the Malan could not design the pageant gown! What true classic villian could design the pageant gown?

Such bubbly happy things are like the Kryptonite to the villians, guaranteed to bring them to their knees.

Yes, we were as the viewers supposed to feel the pity for the Malan, all because the Mother of the Malan had such cruel words for his designs.

The Manolo asks you, though, what villian has ever had the pleasant childhood? Such are the nasty experiences that make the villians.

No, the Manolo blames the producers of the Project Runway for allowing the the Malan to be eliminated early. Better to have taken his schlumping, whining, talentless partner, the Katherine as the mostly innocent sacrifice, so as to allow the Malan to survive to trouble us later with his Igor-like laugh, his strange, Englishy accent, his pasty white skin and the slick dark hair. (In the movie versions, the Malan is certain to be played by the Alan Rickman.)

Of the course, it goes almost without the saying that his dress it was bad, so very, very bad. But did not the Santino survive the worse disasters in the last season? For the example, the ridiculous wickety-wack Spring Time for Hitler underwear, which was accompanied by the lengthy runway argument with the Nina.

The problem for the Malan it is that this season has the surfeit of potential villians.

Case in the point, Angela, the crunchy hippy crafter who turns out to be the complete snake-in-the-macramé, unable to sketch, unable to do anything to help the so very annoying, panic-prone, and shouty Vicent avoid putting the silly sleeves on his gown.

Or consider the handsome and serpentine Keith who attempted to charm the big-haired young Delta Burke out of her gown and into his. Ayyyyy! Too much sultry and manipulative eye contact for the comfort of the Manolo!

Then there is the Jeffrey, he of the aggressive neck tattoo and the overblown/insecure ego, you know him, the one who is certain to go postal at some point in the season.

And so sadly for the Malan, the herd of the villians had grown too large and needed the culling.

As for the winners, the Kayne and the Robert, it was like watching the dinner theater remake of the movie Miss Congeniality III, in which the designer of Barbie clothes combines with the beauty pageant consultant from Oklahoma to produce the Bob Mackie-esque mermaid gown for the attractive but personality-challenged beauty queen. Zzzzzz. Wake the Manolo when the Hasselhoff makes his cameo as the celebrity judge.

Speaking of the celebrity judges and the boredom, where was the Michael Kors? In the stead, we were given the very nice, very un-bitchy, mostly boring Vera Wang, wearing her customary black uniform.

Finally, once again, the Manolo considered the design of the Laura and the Michael Knight to be the stand out. The gown had the beautiful clean lines and the bling-bling sparkle that the Manolo thought made it most arresting. Perhaps the judges considered the white color as not being appropriate to the occasion.

Ayyyyyyyy! Come back Malan, all is forgiven!

Manolo says, ayyyyyyy! The newest season of the Project Runway, it has begun!

With it comes the return of the smartest man on the television, the magnificent Tim Gunn! Celebrate!

And with him comes the beautiful Heidi, and the crabby Nina, and the Michael Kors, looking as puffy and day-glo and as bitchy as ever! Celebrate again!

As has become traditional, the first night of the new season, it is filled with too many characters and too much confusion to be fully comprehensble in the single sitting, and so the Manolo he will have to again watch this episode before he can fully sort out the various personalities, however, here are the first impressions of the Manolo.

The Front Runners

Keith: The Keith he has it all, the very strong design sensibility, the difficult and arrogant personality, and he looks like the Jude Law. Look for him to be there near the finish.

Laura. The Manolo loves the Laura and her impeccable, refined taste in the clothes, although he has his doubts about her hair color, which may best be described as heirloom tomato red. She would be the Manolo’s favorite to win, except he is worried that her style, it may be considered too derivitive and restrained for the judges. In the fact, he thought her design should have been the winner on the first show.

Robert: The Manolo’s favorite to win. He has the mostly calm, wry personality and the super fantastic Barbie experience.

Second Tier
Angela: There is intelligence behind the artsy-craftsy-woodsy-folksy work of this Ohio organic girl. The Manolo also reminds you that the outsiders of strong individual vision do well in the Project Runway. She is the dark horse of the Manolo.

Kayne. The Manolo loves the Kayne, if only because he is so perfectly comfortable in being the huge flaming cliche, although the Manolo suspects he is actually quite savvy, and will be quite good at adapting to the game.

Michael: One of the Manolo’s early favorites, if only because the Manolo thought his dress was quite good, and the use of the coffee filters was clever. He is another outsider with the strong, eccentric personal vision. And if only the Michael Knight could use his secret weapon, the K.I.T.T., he would be the sure winner.

Uli: Mmmm, krauty and intelligent and possessed of the experience the Manolo believes will help her to do well.

Plot Devices

Malan: Or as the Manolo likes to think of him, Lord Valdemort Lite. His strong artistic vision and possibly malevolent personality will allow him to compete until near the end.

Jeffrey: It is not often that one sees aggressive neck tatoos on the person who is not locked into the maximum security prision. The Jeffrey he will be around for many weeks, because of the personality. As for his style, it would be perfect if you are treking alone into the irradiated, post-apocalyptic wastes of the Forbidden Zone.

Cannon Fodder

Vincent: Is the Manolo the only person who sees the Vincent and thinks he looking is the “kooky” character being played the late and great Dick Shawn? Gone by the third week.

Bradley: Duuuuuude, the Manolo expects Bradley to later give us the semi-coherent lecture on the virtues of hemp.

Bonnie: Pleasant, sweet, gone soon.

Katherine: Quirky, but in the usual and predictable ways that such peoples are quirky.

Alison: The best of the cannon fodder, which should allow her to make it about half of the way through the season.

Gone Already

Stacey: Possibly the competent marketing expert, but not the designer of the clothes.

The Manolo loves the Project Runway! As do the Manolo’s friends at the Blogging the Project Runway, the indespensible blog for the fans of this wonderful show.