Manolo says, so long to the Kara, you were most annoying, and not terribly talented, and usually your clothes they looked as if they’d been grabbed from the rag bag.

Ah, Santino, Santino, how the Manolo would love to hear that you have met with the unfortunate machine gun accident at the toll booth.

The Manolo cannot remember when he last saw this level of groundless, unjustifiable narcissism…oh, right. Never mind. Clearly you and your spangly wickety-wack are destined for the great things, perhaps designing workout clothes for Bobby Trendy to sell at the Wal-Mart.

Once again, the Daniel V. displays his talent for taking beautiful shapes, forms, and materials and giving them the merest, slightest, tiniest twist, so as to make them seem ever so slightly barely different. It is the talent for the small details, and the Manolo, after viewing the pictures of the runway show, is completely convinced that you will win the whole thing. Look for the Daniel V. to soon be working for the Ralph Lauren or the Calvin Klein.

As for the Chloe, the Tim Gunn was exactly right, the Chloe produced the gown that made the rail thin model appear to have the giant ass. Bravo to that! Once again, the Manolo must repeat that she is boringly good, and that her collection at the runway show was meh, whatever, fine.

Notes from the rest of this episode: Mamas don’t let your boys grow up to be Austin Scarlett, because he’s always aflame and hankering for fame, even if there’s not much else there. And Jay is still the delightful Jay, but the fifteen minutes they are ticking away fast.

P.S. As always there is so much more at the Blogging the Project Runway.

Manolo says, here is the wonderfully informative article on the Tim Gunn from the NJ.com.

Gunn is not a judge, and he is not even a fashion designer, which is crucial to his success both on the show and at Parsons The New School For Design. “I don’t have a particular point of view about fashion other than quality, taste and style,” he said in a recent telephone interview. “I’m respectful of all of it. I look at it all unencumbered.”

This, it is slightly disingenous, indeed it is self-contradictory. The particular point of the view of the Tim Gunn it is one which empasizes exactly what the Tim has indicated, the quality, the taste and the style.

One need only look at how the Tim dresses himself to know that this is a man who is restrained, intellectual, and concerned with decorum. He is intellectually detached enough to give the honest critique of the sometimes awful work, not because he does not have the point of view, but because he is the excellent teacher and the good critic.

The interview continues…

Gunn, 52, grew up in Washington, D.C., an introverted boy whose lack of ballfield exploits made him “the bane of my father’s existence.” (Gunn did take to competitive swimming: “It was nice and clean and you didn’t sweat.”) His mother started the library at the Central Intelligence Agency before giving birth to her two children, and his father was a career FBI agent, a close-mouthed man who served as J. Edgar Hoover’s ghostwriter.

Gunn says he never considered fashion design as a career, yet he still couldn’t keep his hands off his younger sister’s Barbie dolls. “I had a Barbie obsession,” he says. “I was concerned with the whole Barbie lifestyle.”

It always starts with the Barbies.