Project Runway, Episode IV -- and more stuff.

Goodness gracious me – Sweet Pea only barely survived the Gidget Curse last night to sew another day. I would mention her no longer except that in my tour of PR-related blogs (okay, Project Rungay) I’m finding a lot of Sweet Pea hate, and I don’t understand it. One commenter went ballistic because she was offended that Sweet Pea was aghast when Elisa “spit marked” the fabric Sweet Pea was holding. “Spit marked,” meaning Elisa spit at Sweet Pea. Hello? I think any person trying to avoid communicable diseases and expecting common courtesy would object an uninvited christening with strange bodily fluids as well.

I’m a fan of Sweet Pea because (1) she’s this season’s token old broad and we old broads have to stick together, and (2) she seems straightforward and self-aware. The men’s outfit she made was crap, she acknowledged that it was crap and said she was embarrassed by it. No excuses. How refreshing. However I don’t believe she has a chance in hell of making the final three – but I’ve been surprised before.

Is pink the new orange?

I found these two dresses, for sale at Aesthetically Vintage while I was making one of my period searches for shirtwaist dresses. (Click on the image for the link). The only thing these garments have in common is their color, which leads me to believe that I’m entering a “fascinated with hot pink” phase. That's straight out of an orange phase, oh deary me – but that sweet full-skirted number’s a Dusy, isn’t it?

These pictures were snagged off of a right-click protected TIAS site. Now, while I absolutely respect a person’s right to protect their images, the fact is that the dresses (patterns, fabrics, etc.) featured in blogs, including this rather obscure one, usually sell rather quickly after they’re featured. And isn’t that the point of selling online? Wider exposure to potential buyers?(Actually, the full-skirted dress sold before I had a chance to post the picture, but I'm sticking to my thesis.) Let me expose you, darlings, you won’t regret it!

Project Runway IV and other stuff . . .

The previews for PRIV made it look like this season was going to be a complete freakshow, the contestants being a rainbow and a half of stereotypes. Luckily, it seems that they were only acting out for promotional purposes, and I in fact like this group. My favorites so far (and I'm so sorry if this statement brings the Gidget I-like-you-therefore-you-lose curse down on their heads) are Chris, the costume designer who came off as a total Jay-wannabe in the adverts but who is relatively down-to-earth, tears at meeting Sara Jessica Parker notwithstanding; and Sweet Pea, who managed to deal firmly but tactfully with Elisa, this season's token earthchild, to produce a nice garment in the last episode. I can't say much about the talents of any designers this early in the competition.

Here's something I didn't like: there was a link on Bravo's PR website (now removed) saying something like "Get the look of Lauri from 'Real Housewives of Orange County.'" Agggghhh!!! I'm totally Bravo's bitch, but I HATE that show and the shallow, mercenary, plastic women it features. I tried watching a couple of episodes the first season but I stopped because, among other things, I couldn't tell any of the blonde housewives, of whom Lauri is one, apart. Is that a look anyone wants to emulate, really? Southern Californian conservative siliconed meretrix?

I'd totally wear this

I have another disagreement with The Fug Girls over this outfit being worn by Nicole Kidman. They think it's too old for her, and maybe it is, but I'm mumblemumble years older than Kidman and damn I could rock this outfit. The hair, though? The hair is too old for Nicole and even for me. I'll add my vote to all those who think she should go back to red.

I'm really excited about seeing her as the evil Mrs. Coulter in "The Golden Compass." Nicole plays cold evil bitches so well ("To Die For," "The Others"), and that, btw, is an undiluted complement.

Yes, The Dress, revisited

Well, the TLC series "Say Yes to the Dress" ended without us ever finding out what happened to the hapless and clueless consultant Claudia, but I did learn one thing -- I could never be a wedding dress designer because I haven't got a clue what brides want to wear. In every episode of the show, one, and sometimes two, brides bought this dress (or maybe this one; corset, pouf, what's the diff?) which I think surely qualifies as a "float in the parade" on the Tim Gun Absolute Taste scale. In other words, I don't like it, why do so many brides?

Surprisingly, the brides who have chosen this dress are of all ages and sizes. One bride was a 39-year-old interior designer who should have know better, unless her real intention was to advertise Austrian balloon shades. In the episode before last two brides, one thin and one zaftig, and their consultants were competing over the one sample which would have to do for both sizes of bride. The thin bride got the sample first and, evidently mesmerized by her reflection dressed in the creation, wore it for an hour while the zaftig bride sat, dressed only in her underwear and a skimply kimono, waiting for the sample to become available. The thin brides's consultant didn't want to ask her customer to take the gown off for fear of losing the $6,600.00 sale; there zaftig bride's consultant wanted the dress so she wouldn't lose a sale $1,600.00 over her bride's original budget. In the end both the brides got what they wanted, i.e., the same dress the girl in the next room would be wearing. Duh?

Anyhoo, even though I know that brides dress their fantasies, and not their bodies or or their budgets, this particular dress really turns me off, and I know that I'd threaten Hypotheca with disinheritance if she even tried it on. Why, I wondered, did it bother me so? And then it hit me:


I would not want to have "Like A Virgin" playing on an endless loop in my head everytime I looked at my daughter's wedding album. Particularly not if it cost me $6,600.00. Sorry, Hypotheca.

It's da bomb!

I like to think that I'm no longer susceptible to marketing, but when I saw the perfume Flowerbomb in its crystal hand grenade container I. just. had. to. have. it. The idea of packaging luxury in an explosive device is just so decadent, so elegantly subversive, that I immediately signed onto the fashion insurgency.

And if what I fear for this country come true, I can use the container as an actual weapon when when the tanks start rolling down the avenue after the Tyrant-in-Chief declares martial law. It won't explode, but it weighs enough to put a dent in someone's ambition. But I wouldn't be throwing the bottle until I used up the perfume, because I really like it.

Besides being beatifully packaged, Flowerbomb also appeals to my idea of what perfume should be: hard to find (at least in my retail-deprived corner of the world), expensive, and thoroughbred. I'm a perfume snob and I'm not ashamed to admit it. I wouldn't even sample a scent bearing the name of Paris Hilton, Britney Spears, or even Sara Jessica Parker. Yet Paris Hilton just launched her fifth, fifth, fragrance. Who is it who wants to evoke celebuskank with her scent?


Flowerbomb is by Victor & Rolf, Belgian designers showing in Paris, who bring a brand of teh crayzee to their designs that I like. Their New Look-inspired Fall 2006 collection is one of my favorites, ever. I'd happily identify with a woman wearing Victor & Rolf designs, even if it means leaving the house wearing a fencing mask for a veil. I want no association, even a psychological one, with a woman who leaves the house wearing no underwear.

When I was looking up Flowerbomb on line I came across sites with perfume reviews. Reviews, not descriptions. Perfume is so personal I don't know how it can be reviewed. I could sample a perfume and love it, you could sample the same perfume and hate it, and we'd both be right. Interesting.

To fug or not to fug.

Toujours Pur

Emmy Rossum got fugged in this outfit for wearing white . . . again. And the pose is a little twee too. But the shape of the dress -- so 50's car-fin vintage, how could a Clothesaholic not love it?


Similar reproduction petal bodice or wing bust dresses, in kick ass vintage prints, can be purchased through Whirlingturban.com. I want one, in fact, I want one of EVERYTHING for sale at Whirlingturban.


I think I'd look better in the sarong-skirt version, and such a dress would never be mistaken for demure, especially not accessorized a la Bettie Paige
or made up in an animal print (although I suspect appearing in animal print wiggle dress would get one fugged as well). The only problem with Whirlingturban, if you can call it a problem, is that they want your actual measurements for an order, and getting actual measurements requires assistance. I haven't quite decided which of my friends or acquaintances can be trusted with that much information. I'll keep you updated.

Some not so good vintage.

This post from the blog 15 Minute Lunch has been circulating by e-mail, but in case you haven't seen it, and needed reminding that the 70s weren't all Halston and Stephen Burrows, check out this 1977 J.C. Penny catalog.