Possums, perhaps it’s just because today the California Supreme Court heard oral arguments on Proposition 8 (with Ken Starr, the semen-stain Savonarola himself, leading the charge for gay-marriage foes), but this evening our tolerance for idiotic bullshit, no matter how well-intentioned, is exceedingly low.
So just imagine what an effect the following video of Patti Stanger, from Millionaire Matchmaker, had on us:
We’ll let one of our capable Sapphic sisters (Dorothy Snarker, darling, are you listening?) handle the issue of whether lesbians “U-Haul it” because k.d. lang is one of only three visible lesbians, and because in this Ellen-and-Portia, L Word, Rachel Maddow world, it’s less socially acceptable to come out as a lesbian than to be gay.
So let’s get to Patti’s theories on the lads, shall we?
Stanger sayeth:
If you are a gay man, you’re still susteptible [sic & sick] to oxytocin bonding, because you have a lot more estrogen in your body than a straight man does, ‘kay? There’s not a lot of testosterone there. So the truth of the matter is you can get emotionally bonded, same as a straight female. You gotta be careful.
Possums, where does one even start? To paraphrase Mary McCarthy on Lillian Hellman, every word she says is a lie, including “and” and “the.”
Because of course anyone who’s been around gay men knows that the number-one complaint is that they get “emotionally bonded” after having sex.
For heaven’s sake, possums, just look at her. She doesn’t know—cannot possibly know—any gays. And if she does, the fact that they let her leave the house looking like that proves that they hate her guts.
As these things go, it’s almost preferable to be called a “homo” by one of Satan’s silicone dingleberries, Tamra Barney of The Real Housewives of Orange C*nty. At least you know where you stand with her.
Is that an ad homo-nem attack? Perhaps. But we blame it on all that estrogen in our system.
Oh, and “AIDS [is] still available”? “Get involved in memorandums”?
Laura, possum, you are a uniter. We find it wonderful that, whatever one’s differences of political opinion, we can all agree as a country about Jo de la Rosa’s skin. We have watched, rapt, as the Bravo cameras exposed every pebbly path of acne on her face. At times, we wondered if we weren’t watching the “before” section of a ProActiv infomercial. We think someone at Bravo secretly hates her, and is filled with self-loathing to the depths of their soul at having to work on such a show, a show that exhibits such utter contempt for its audience that, if there were any justice in the world or in America (sorry, didn’t mean to get all political again), it would make the viewers rise up and storm Bravo headquarters with pitchforks and torches and lay waste to it brick by brick.
And he's back, ladies, gentlemen and possums. A week that simultaneously thrilled and dispirited our gimlet-eyed, whip-and-wisecracking, resident curmudgeon and gay éminence grise, Hughman. And so, without further ado:
Have these contestants been frozen in time? Seriously. I’m shocked at how ignorant they are of the world of fashion and time.
Three things to know about Diane Von Furstenberg:
1. She’s the most famous export of Belgium since Belgian beard, er, beer. Oh, what the hell. She’s rumored to be the “beard” for Barry Diller, media mogul and faggo dei faggi of the Velvet Mafia. As Cityfile puts it, “She has been very close to the media mogul for more than three decades—he famously gave her 29 loose diamonds in a Band-Aid box for her 29th birthday—but the union still raised eyebrows considering Diller has been in gay relationships most his adult life.” So, ok, wife, companion or whatever. Point is, he’s filthy rich and has financed her fashion company, so she’s not crying about her income.
2. She, if not invented, revolutionized the Wrap Dress. It was a staple at Studio 54 in the Seventies. It was a dress you could throw on at 2 AM and go out and look fabulous in.
3. She’s renowned for her use of bold prints.
Tim Gunn was kind enough to mention the last point. Did anyone listen? Hardly. Apparently black and concrete gray are the new prints. Why, why, WHY would you go for black with DVF?? Because you are an ignorant newcomer, that’s why.
Also, Marlene Dietrich:
1. Infamous film star.
2. Known for her androgynous looks, most notably her tuxedo in Josef von Sternberg’s Morocco:
3. Understated to the nth degree.
Where were the print tuxedos? Where were the 40s looks? Where was the reach to a past era?
Not here. These kids are just on some trip that has nothing to do with fashion. It has to do with self-promotion and exposure. I like many of the results (many of which were in the top spots) but they had little to do with the inspiration given them. They were like an MTV recap of Madonna minus the timely references.
Ugh, I was so frustrated.
The best -
Korto’s dress was at least a great pattern - the one, in fact, featured in Diane’s American Express commercials.
I don’t love a weird jacket over a long dress (which goes for all of them) but at least it was bold and not all drab and monotone. Kenley’s dress, while supposedly simple, was at least cute and accessible. I actually loved the dress she was personally wearing better with the feathered epaulets. Where was that dress on the runway?
Leanne wins. Her dress was chic on its own. Again, I wasn’t so crazy about the jacket but I’ll just call this a Jennifer Hudson on the Oscar runway moment. I could actually see Marlene wearing this with long gloves and a cocktail in hand. Good for Leanne, two in a row.
The worst -
All the ones I have grown to hate in one showdown. It was so good it was evil because I could have seen any of them go in a heartbeat.
Joe has some weird idea about his designs which is laughable. This was like something a hostess at a Benihana in a trailer park would wear. So sad and so badly made. He really needs a reality check. Suede’s outfit was what the high school slut on Planet of the Apes wears to the prom. A vest over a long dress? Really? Even if the dress hadn’t been so weird, the vest was just freaky.
Poor Stella. She obviously thinks inside of a very small box. Her outfit could have been very Amelia Earhart and aviatrix to adapt to her point of view. Instead it was like badly fitted office drag. That vest looked like something the model stole out of her mother’s closet when she was six. And a cape? She had been destined to go, but this was her shining moment of poor choices and ignorance and refusal of the judges’ input.
So no cute guy, no older rebel hat without a cause. What have we left?
Possums, first of all, please, please accept our apologies for the lateness of this recap. The faithful Hughman whipped it up in record time last week, but unfortunately we were out of town for our beastly day job and unable to blog or post. The fault is entirely ours. But all good things are worth wait. And so, without further ado:
I’ve been so busy watching the Democratic Convention Speeches. HA HA! Democratic Convention = Project Runway and speeches = this past episode. Ok, I watched both so let me get all Andrew Sullivan and distill this down to talking points:
1. I’m so sick of seeing that Olsen girl on the cover of Elle at the newsstand shot. Yeah, we got it. Nina Garcia used to work at Elle but for Christ’s sake, was this the only cover ever made?
2. Tonight is all about Product Placement. No, seat belts. No, Product Placement. Thankfully Saturn cars place money into this show and not, say Valtrex. I shudder to think what genital herpes leaves behind in its wake. In the end we get seat belts all the way.
3. Models, this isn’t Brain Surgery. Brain Surgery, is, like, SO hard! If you get a paying job versus a job based on some know-nothing designer who may dangle a spread in a dying magazine, what do you chose? THE PAYING JOB. DUH. The drama about this choice was retarded. It’s about the rent, Kenley, not you. Oops.
4. We have the winners, and the losers:
Heidi proclaims (twice) that she would wear Jerrell’s Judy Jetson outfit. Yeah, we got it. On Planet Seal this is what women wear. Here, back on Reality, not so much. It was OK but not what every woman is dying to be seen in every day. It would, however, have been FAB last week for the Drag Queens which says a lot. Heidi is a secret Drag Queen! Duh. Case closed.
Korto’s woven jacket was fab, as usual. She’s so my fave in a very Angie Stone way. Very smart and it didn’t look like it was made from the dreaded seat belts to her credit. I wish it had opened to show something underneath but so be it.
Leanne wins with her shaped short cocktail dress. It was a bold move into the world of shaped garments and was not so bad. Not a Comme des Garçons statement with detachable pieces, but outside of the box. At the least it tried to reshape the model’s stick thin figure, which is a good thing.
The losers:
Kayne’s dress was Drag-worthy too but not in a good way and as noted on the show, fit horribly in the bust. This queen may have ideas but fit ain’t one of them. He took the seat belts and made them seat dolts. Drag wear for a Mexican Bar. Big market for him and Daniel.
Keith gets auf’d. From the front, his dress was OK but from the back it was a meshed mess. I do, however, take (a probably unhealthy) joy in seeing cute, humpy guys bawl like babies. I have in the past made a Personal Trainer burst into tears and cry like a six year old girl when I told him I wouldn’t be seen in public when he was wearing Lycra pants. I made him go to a Gap and buy chinos right away. It wasn’t PERSONAL, it was what he was wearing! We all have standards! So watching Keith weep in his dismissal gave me a cheap thrill. Plus his outfit was shitty and I don’t know if I could live through another shredded atrocity.
All in all, not bad results (to our shock). This was an idiotic challenge which produced above average product. Yay! Valtrex might have resulted in a lot more coverage which could only be a good thing. I’m just saying.
Tuck your junk between your legs or lower your voice an octave or two. This week is supposedly smokin’ and I was all over it like white on rice.
1. Drag queens, unlike most models, have personality. Big time. Usually demonstrated by their name. The stereotypical drag queen name is “your first pet” + “the first street you lived on.” Mine is Choya De La Roche, FYI. Try it now!
2. Finding shoes ain’t easy. As I told before in my story about my foray into drag, it’s an event. Bluefly.com isn’t probably going to have a lot of size 14s. This could be a problem.
So the challenge begins. Chris March, the Gay Voice of PR (despite the other “Gay Voices” on PR) comes out in a fierce outfit. “OH!,” the contestants exclaim, he’s dressed like a Gay Viking! No, retard, he’s making fun of Wagner Operas. Duh. Welcome to the new century. The two most prominent Drag Queens on the runway are Hedda Lettuce and Varla Jean Merman (who I’ve seen in a revue and is SO worth seeing. She was also in the musical Chicago on Broadway).
Basically this was designing for shapes that weren’t “normal” model types. It was yet another redux of a past challenge where they designed for the contestants’ mothers who weren’t the usual sizes the designers are used to working with. They needed a vision outside of their comfort zone. Their comfort zones are apparently teeny tiny little squares listed in Dullsville. THESE ARE DRAG QUEENS, PEOPLE! For fuck’s sake, pad everything you see! Work the fierce accessories!
Oh child, this week was so disjointed. Joe (who espoused the most hetero, moronic, unrelated memos about this week’s challenge) almost delivered, which on this season means he won. His costume was a tribute (oddly enough) to the Drag Queen he chose. It was showy and could be worn in a revue any time. Yes, it was supposedly based on a sailor outfit, but where were the white ribbons on the collar? Where was the purse shaped like an anchor? Where was the belt shaped like a Sperm Whale, for God’s sake? I was shocked. He mentioned he designed for his daughters and I only assume they’re the most fab girls ever. Too bad they have him for a dad. So Joe won. But I still loved me some Korto. 1 - She made a dress and not a jumpsuit (which I think is bit of a drag copout). 2 - Loved the colors. It was like Krakatoa Kamp and the tear-away skirt was genius. Every good act needs a prop and here one was built in.
Keith’s costume must be what Mormon Dust Busters wear on Halloween.
His idea that all women want to dress like a Swiffer is misguided and a little weird at best. Darling, Lemon Pledge isn’t a scent by Chanel. Stella’s dress was “Mother of the Bride” at a Scottish wedding. Snooze. Blayne has clearly just lost his mind. Star Trek-licious and not in a good way. Take it from someone who’s actually heard Varla Jean Merman sing the Star Trek theme while eating (a highlight of her act)!
Daniel FINALLY gets auf’d. Let’s face it, he was hanging by a string for many weeks now and if he couldn’t face up to this week’s Gay Challenge, what hope had he? His costume was drab and wishy-washy; it was like a hostess outfit at Outback. His interests in wanting to be classy and whatever were silly here. The answer was to take what the client wanted and to multiply times ten. This is a dress for a DRAG QUEEN, queen! How many times did that have to be reiterated? What planet are you on? The bigger the better! Fail, yuk. It was boring and safe, two things going out in Drag in Public ain’t.
RuPaul was surprisingly astute and on point in her judging. Gotta give the girl some credit, she knew what she was talking about and delivered like Domino’s. If anything, she could have been a little bitchier (as I know she can) and torn down some of the more boring designs.
Overall, I wanted more Show for this show. I wanted more glitter, more glamour, more va-va-voom. I wanted more Chris March. Instead, as usual this season, we were only given more closeted, dull gayjects. Come out of the closet, and soon, or we’ll just give you up for done and throw you on the bash heap. Boring is so ugly in a young gay.
As you may remember, possums and queens, our very own Hughman recently laid down the law to Joe Faris, rapping Joe forcefully on the knuckles with a glitter cane and making the ageless pronouncement, "Unless you've been in drag and heels in a crowded gay bar (which I have once), you have no right to use the Q-word." And now, in anticipation of tonight's Project Dragway, Hughman is giving us details of just how well he knows whereof he speaks. Please to sample and enjoy:
Get ready, girlfriends. This week is going to be a veritable stuffed bra of goodness. I feel compelled to preface my usual recap (which will come in a few days) with this little historical disquisition.
Let me start by saying I’m no rube from the sticks about Drag. On the contrary, over the years I lived in New York City, I was sort of a Drag Groupie. I even did drag once in the late 80’s, ironic since I was a steroided Chelsea Muscle Boy at the time. You can read about it here (Ed: Oh do, possums, do; it's well worth it).
In addition, I was friends with many of the Drag Stars of the time.
1. Lady Bunny - I was a denizen of The Pyramid Club in NYC’s East Village when Lady Bunny was a go-go dancer on the bar. Once she called me over and said “HONEY, WHERE ARE YOU FROM?” “The South,” I answered honestly. “ME TOO!,” she exclaimed, “WE’RE SISTERS!” True to her word, we became occasional friends afterwards. She also was the Mistress of Ceremonies for the infamous Wigstock, which originally started in the East Village too. Almost all of these Drag Queens performed at Wigstock while hundreds of guys (and gals) stood around shirtless in the sun with wigs on. Fun!
2. RuPaul also performed at The Pyramid and at another East Village haunt called Boy Bar. Once a friend and I were watching her on her talk show and my friend remarked “Remember when we used to push her out of the way to get to the bar?”
3. Joey Arias - I first met Joey at another lounge called Bar D’oh where he’d perform on Wednesdays. I’d often go and see him and we would chat endlessly, and he even met my mother, who whispered to me, “He’s wearing make-up!” Later Joey went to Las Vegas, where he headlined the Cirque du Soleil show called “Zumanity.” He does a flawless imitation of Billie Holiday.
4. Raven-O - worked in tandem with Joey and later became the emcee at the popular NYC cabaret called The Box. He also sang (as a woman) in his natural voice.
5. Lypsinka - lip-synched and acted in several acclaimed revues. I met her when I styled a shoot she did for Italian Vogue photographed by Albert Watson. She performed her whole act on tape while Albert shot pictures and I was an enraptured audience of one in his studio.
6 Other Drag friends included Mona Foot (who also worked at Patricia Field’s old shop on Eighth Street where we’d go hang on Saturday afternoons), Hedda Lettuceand The Duchess who was Susanne Bartsch’s assistant and event doorperson. They were all royalty in their own right in the Drag Scene of the time. Joey and Mona were also both in the movie To Wong Foo, Thanks for Everything, Julie Newmar.
So you see, I know the gig.
In my opinion, there are two types of Drag Queens. Those who wish to “pass” as real women and those who were more performers, pushing the limits of their presentation towards Art and less concerned with being seen as a possible secretary in the work force. Naturally, I leant more towards the latter. They were always hilarious, glamorous and I hope to think flattered and excited that someone like me (and some of my friends) were willing to have fun with them and not be restricted by boring old stereotypes.
So let’s tuck in (ha ha - get it?) and get ready for the challenge.
So this week, possums, Project Runway stumbled into the jungle, but little did they know that what awaited them there, the thing that goes bump and meow in the night, was none other than our own Hughman. And so, without further ado, we present the Bumble in the Jungle:
I gotta hand it to Bravo. They have officially upended my fucking world.
Here I thought, After building the Project Runway brand based on its loyal gay viewers and then losing PR in an ugly, adulterous divorce to frowsy, housecoat-wearing Lifetime, Bravo will surely go gently into that good night.
HELL NO!
(Clearly, I had forgotten the Angela Bassett approach from Waiting to Exhale: taking lighter fluid and a lit match to the whole damned thing, and sashaying off with pert breasts proudly ensconced in a lace teddy.)
At any rate, Handy Andy and his gay elves at Bravo Headquarters (gelves?) have instead decided to troll the bottom of the barrel for this last season in order to parade before the huddled gay masses yearning to be freaks the most confused, childish people on Earth who’ve ever touched needle or cloth. This season’s contestants make The Real World look like the Antiques Roadshow. Don’t get me wrong, I love me some crazy. But though Vincent Van Gogh cut off his ear, he didn’t then go and draw outlines around his hand and call it Art. This season, with a couple of exceptions, is all Hand Turkeys. It frankly makes me want to be naked all the time just so I can say “Clothes? Oh no, I’ve never tried them.”
This episode brings us the esteemed Brooke Shields of the possibly fictional TV show Lipstick Jungle. I mean, c’mon. Sure, ‘twas oft-mentioned on this episode, but has anyone really seen it or wanted to? (Well, aside from Kelli Martin’s Nana?) Enough to mention it 10,000 times? Suddenly Susan might have had as much resonance with this bunch. That said, the winner’s outfit this challenge will be shown on JAG! Uh, no! On Lipstick Jungle, or America’s Next Tranny Model, or at some craft service table somewhere.
After pitching clothes and pitching fits, the finalists are chosen for whatever reason and have to pick someone to work with them. Most choose in some blind parallel universe which is AWESOME for our interests. It’s the tasteless leading the tasteless, and the blind leading the lame. Translation: disaster. OMG, so fun! Jerell and Stella - please fail, please fail. The collaborative “process” between Korto, my fave, and Joe, my not fave, is not pretty. Clueless Daniel and Blayne are thrown into their combos where they can relive Madonna circa 1998. Done and over.
Ultimately, deciding what some crazy-ass fictional character on a dying TV show would wear is a no-win situation. It’s like designing an outfit for a character on The Little Mermaid—impossible and weird. The character, if they had listened to Brooke, is a movie executive. Plus she’s FUCKING BROOKE SHIELDS! You could hear the crickets in their teensy heads debating the parameters.
Daniel just turns into the whiny queen who asks every three seconds why you’re walking too fast when you’re late for a movie. His one task is to design a pencil skirt - IN BLACK - which is like drawing a Hand Turkey in fabric and he still fails. And after he claims on the runway to have “impeccable taste,” you’re just left with, “Queen, lay off the K.” Just ‘cause you daydream you’re Karl Lagerfeld doesn’t make you German.
As for Blayne, I really don’t get the obsession with shorts (or skorts) on this season. It’s currently on the runway with the men folk - misguided at best - but with women? Not so much. It comes across as a bizarre reach to the past, and not so original. Like a Three’s Company flashback. Blayne’s design was a nightmare. Step away from the Cul-nots. Day to night does not mean going from your job at Strawberry Fields to doing Jell-O shots at TGIF’s. Ok, maybe it does in Washington State where Blayne hails from, but not on the genius that is *drumroll* LIPSTICK JUNGLE!!! Perhaps he misheard. Dipstick Bungle, Dipshit Stumble? Who the fuck knows? It was fugly all over. Also, can we say “hippy,” as in “makes your hips look huge”? Ew all over.
The loser was, again, a worst of the worst. Kelli’s vision of dressing versus the unflattering shorts is a dice throw of design. Frankly, I would never choose the shorts because I’m not stupid. On a 40+ woman, shorts like this are retarded. They make women look too short and trying to be some age they aren’t. Kelli’s was at least a dress, which an adult woman would wear - especially one who is a supposed Studio Head.
Kelli is out, which I hate. And after reading her interview from when she was booted, I know why. She’s everything posers like Blayne and Jerell aspire to - she’s opinionated and most importantly she’s funny. This season could use a big honking dose of funny because so far it’s just crunching my buzz.
Well, possums, the love child of Brittany Murphy and Lorraine Bracco did not go down without a fight. No sirree.
To wit, have a look at what she said in an exit interview:
I have never seen Lipstick Jungle, but my grandma has watched it. [!!] I always assumed it was a cut-rate Sex in the City. [!!] Brooke Shields? Sadly, all I know about her are her Postpartum Depression issues, not much real work since the early ‘80s. [!!]
....
...working with Daniel was kind of like working with the town drunk dressed in a fancy suit ... [!!]
.... Bravotv.com: The judges’ comments questioned your taste level -- what is your response to that?
Simple. Our taste levels are different. Mine is on the wavelength of appreciating fashion, but also realizing that the majority of it comes from people like me. My generation is much different than the 50-year-olds judging me, particularly the different subcultures. You might think that you know what the kids are wearing, but you don't. You know what rich kids are wearing, and honey, we aren't all going to the Oscars. So the slam on taste was a joke. Nice try man. We didn't all come from money and weren't able to use that “in” to make us somebody.
To which we say: BITCH! But only because we wished we'd thought of some of these putdowns. Never mess with a Columbine, possums (or whatever people from Columbus are called); they're scrappy.
