Thursday, October 05, 2006

Project Runway or Stalag 17?

Dahlings,

We are back in New York in my fabulous Central Park West apartment. Bucky has been rescued from the doggie spa, where his toenails were trimmed but NOT painted, an omission I will remind them of. I like to have Bucky in a French manicure, it looks SO stylish on naturally black nails. My hostess in North Carolina, although a woman of great style and taste, does not care much for dogs.

I had the (mis)fortune of tuning in to "Project Runway" last night. My dears, is this Fashion In The True Sense? I think not! Is this how we want to encourage the next generation of designers? By disemboweling them on the tube? Heidi Klum, who reminds me of nothing so much as a sadistic Nazi commandant in drag, has ruined the sunny, happy image I had of her from those glasses ads in shop windows.

Not that the other fashion phonies surrounding her were any better. They'd all sell their mothers into prostitution if they thought it would get them a network deal. Perhaps they already have?

The gleam in Ms. Klum's eye as she surveyed the formerly disgraced contestants (that strange female hippie and the angry old queen--yes, I know he's married, but spare me) walking out in confusion, and the other designers grabbing each other's lapels and looking as if they'd soiled themselves--well. Our Ms. Klum was having a high old time.

Doubtless she spends her private time torturing mice at the bottom of wooden barrels: "You. First you are in. Then you are out. But now you are SQUISHED!" I pity her children.

And the clothes--mon dieu, the clothes! If that strange little blond accented female--Oolee, I think her name was--made one more colorful flowy boho dress, I was going to throw myself out of the nearest window. Laura Bennet, the preggers one with the ostentatiously dyed red hair and razor cheekbones, did lovely things, even if they were all painfully derivative of styles past. However, she does live in New York City, so one must forgive her mistakes and move on.

But who was that THING with the tattoos around his neck? Does he have the faintest idea of how that will look when he is a chicken-necked oldster? (Oh pardon me, people like that don't tend to grow old.) All it did was draw attention to the fact that he could use a chin implant. Not the intended effect, one supposes.

Call me mad, but the fashions that Michael Knight made...with the exception of that long purple dress that belonged on a female extra in "Shaft"...were quite marvelous. He has a real respect for the rounded female figure, and when was the last time you saw THAT quality in a fashion designer?

Must dash - I have many splendid things to list. Halloween has turned out to be very busy at the Bounteous House of Style, so I have to keep listing! First I have to locate my assistant, who sneaked out of here while I was dictating this into my personal recorder for transcription. Probably on the floor of my closet sobbing again. I do wish she wouldn't do that, she tramples my gowns.

Here is some of what you will find:





Ciao,
Elisa & Bucky The Wonderdog


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