Wreunion Wrapup

Let's wrap this tawdry little puppy up, shall we?

Item 1: Who is this year's winner of the Persimmon Princess Crown?

"I am!"

"Bitch, you KNOW I am."

Oooh, that's a tough one. The Duchess could get it on longevity alone, but Kaynebow rallied at the end, unveiling a nuclear orange that might just land him the coveted sash and crown. Readers?


Item 2: Execution Music

It was cute how Alison pounded along to the beat of the execution music, but it reminded us that it's time for it to go. Are you listening, Bravo? Those "winner" and "loser" themes are tired. That jangly guitar that plays every time the winner is announced makes us want to put flowers in our hair and head for San Francisco and that techno pounding leading up to the auf'ing sounds like Darth Vader's going to come out and lop off a designer's hand.

Oh, and Girl? Those boots? FIERCE!


Item 3: Dainty Little Models

Oh sure, everyone assumes that the models drop like flies because they're hungry. This is clearly not the case because models are genetically superior creatures that require little in the way of food. Some nuts and berries a couple of times a week and they're good. The rest of their nutrition comes from oxygen, which they take in from the gills behind their ears.

No, it's not hunger that fells the mighty model. It's drama.

You see, a model's brain has a highly developed "drama cortex." The parts of the brain that you and I might use to...say, remember people's names or fill out tax forms, is, in the brain of a model, taken over by an evolutionary impulse that ensures that the model is the center of attention at all times. This is an ancient survival response that kicks in whenever the model's body feels threatened by inattention. This response can take the form of fainting spells, taking a header on the runway, crying jags and in its most extreme form, Tyra Banks.

Every 13 seconds another model suffers from lack of attention. Please educate yourself on this serious issue. Tell your friends: PAY ATTENTION TO MODELS. Their very livelihoods depend on it.

Right, Amanda?

*snnff*

BACK OFF, BITCH!

What does this brazen German hussy thinks she's doing? She was practically ready to give Tim a lap dance. Look at the deathgrip she has on him. Classic stalker behavior. Don't let your pet rabbit out of your sight, Tim!

Look at the lust on that face. YOU'RE MARRIED, BITCH!

AND PREGNANT!

HAHA! You look STUPID in this pic!* Tim doesn't want you!

*Which admittedly took about 7 hours of frame-by-frame to find.

She is totally undressing him with her eyes. Disgusting.

Lick those lips all you want, ho. He's not even looking at you. Y'know why? Because YOU'RE A GIRL!

STOP TOUCHING HIM! Isn't this sexual harrassment?

See? Look! He doesn't even want to kiss you! OUR TEAM! OUR TEAM!
You may be "The Body," bitch, but you still don't have "The Penis" so BACK OFF!

Tim, we're so sorry you had to go through this. Call us if you need to talk about it.

AK + JS = 4EVER!!!

Oh, who cares what they actually said? Manufactured drama requires manufactured recapping, we say!

"Have to remember to look sad here. This is totally going to get me the $10,000 check."


"Heidi, I'm smiling through my tears. My very tiny, hard-to-see tears."


"Hey, what do you want from me? She was fat."


"I'm sad, but reaching out for closure and healing."


"She was fat."


"Jeffrey's right. She was fat."


"This reminds me of a song. I think I'll sing it.

Do you really want to hurt me?
Do you really want to make me cry?"


"Look, all I have to say is 'Here is the church. Here is the steeple. Open the doors and fuck off, Angela.' "


"Do you like me? Circle one. Yes. No."


Designers: HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!

We're thinking of a word that rhymes with "Glassbowl."

Blogging Project Runway got quite the jaw-dropping letter from Keith Michael. Read it here.

Edited to add: Tim Gunn posted his thoughts on Keith's letter on BPR. Read it here.

Bonnie reminds us all why none of us can remember her.

"I was like...!"

"And then I was like ...!"

"And then I was like...!

Hmmm. Okay, then! Thanks for checking in, Katherine.




Bonnie! Right. We mean Bonnie, of course.

Nina: Pure Simplicity.

What happened to La Niña?

It's just not like our girl to wear something so frumpy-looking. Did she pick up the wrong drycleaning or something? She looks like she's going to a picnic. In 1964.

She's got the look of a woman just scanning the room, waiting for a chance to say "Oh, this old thing? Why, it was the first dress I ever made! The classics never go out of style - and it fits me just as well as when I was fourteen!"

Querida, it pains us to say this, but we don't like the proportions on this dress; the color isn't working for us, and we fear you haven't thought about how this will look on a woman's body. Your woman's body. We -- we can't believe it's come to this, but...

It's not aesthetically pleasing.

Chica, what happened?

"Haha. I know, right? My ex-assistant picked it out."

Bitch Mommies

Oh sure, this exchange appeared friendly to the naked eye, but the power of GayVision reveals what these two alpha females were really saying to each other.

"Wow! You're as big as a house!"

"What are you talking about? You look like a dumpling wearing a wig."

"My tits are bigger than yours."

"Yes, but I know how to dress myself."

"You know I have more money than you, right?"

"Too bad it couldn't buy a better weave."

SMACK-O-RAMA!

Clutch your pearls, ladies! We about fell out from the cornucopia of fashion bitchery on display last night. There's a lot to choose from, but the cage match between the Fashion Valkyrie and the Skinny Weasel was definitely a highlight. Heidi looked about ready to throw down.

"It's quite simple. Even though I acted like I was guilty at the time, I was clearly set up. Evil Bravo people snuck into my room and planted these -- what is it you call them? Pattern books?"

"Oh, are we going there? That's how it's gonna be, is it? You want to talk shit about my crew, bitch? YOU WANNA TALK SHIT ABOUT MY CREW?!"

"Y dart! See? I really do know how to sew, you guys."

"Oh, is Fräulein getting a little uncomfortable? I am so much prettier and talented than everyone else in this room and you know it, Goldilocks.

Sorry, Alison."

"Jesus, what a dickhead."

"Are you kidding me? Get over yourself, princess. So you made a dress out of a sheet. Congratulations. Here's your sewing badge, Campfire Girl.

You couldn't even make a dog collar, du verlogener Drecksack!! You creeped out Miss USA and believe me, those pageant girls are plenty used to getting felt up! "

"Okay, you're spitting on me.

And you're scaring me a little bit."

"Arschloch."

Wasn't that, as Tim would say, "Thrilling?"

As per usual, our girl summed it up better than we could: