Runway Jury: She's a Pepper

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THE BRAVO-SANCTIONED title of this episode was "Nature Calls" — a perfect metaphor for a piss-poor season with particularly excremental judging in this episode.

All I want — all any of want — and have wanted for weeks is for That Bitch Kenley to get off our screen. Not only would fans of the show breather easier, but her fellow contestants would enjoy a more convivial workroom experience, the judges would not have to endure her grimacing, sassing and eye-rolling performance on the runway, and poor Tim Gunn would not have his perfect ears pinned back by the ravings of this shrew. Add to that, Miss Thing herself would know failure, something to which she should get comfortably accustomed. Every time she ekes through with some unwearable abomination in a print that looks as if the entire Natchez Garden Tour threw up on it, she is reassured that she's an "edgy" super-genius and everything she touches turns to Chanel. And this, pigeons, this is not true.

So, of course this posting is going to be all about her, which is as she wants it and as the episode shaped this segment of the season. We begin with Kenley whining that Leanne sabotaged her by posing poorly in her insane Consuela-goes-to-the-mall "hip-hop" look the week before. This girl! Her resistance to accepting that she might every be the source of her own failure is mind-boggling.

Kenley stubs a toe: "Stupid table leg! I deliberately descends from under the table top to the floor, where I might stub my toe on it."

Kenley drops a dish: "Goddamn that water — it's so slippery. Waaah!"

Kenley makes her model into a huge purple snake with a chubby belly emerging from a pile of floppy lozenges that look like a "Celebrate Spring" second-grade classroom project. "It's cool! It's edgy! She looks young and hip! You're stupid, Nina! Waaah!"

Kenley trips on the sidewalk: "My dad was a tugboat captain. Waaah!"

FLOWER CHILDREN
Tim Gunn spirits the designers away to the New York Botanical Gardens to find inspiration among the flora. They futz around in the great outdoors, taking pictures of growing things, and at least three of them idly wondering what it will feel like when a butcher knife slams into Kenley's guts. Will there be that "chunk"ing sound you see in comic books? Or more of a "squoosh"? In the meantime, Tim Gunn has a gay breakdown and begins babbling about Joan Crawford.

Jerell has taken a very Victoria Magazine circa 1987 snap of some beautiful flowers in varying shades of pink and purple. I would love to see a dress made from this inspiration — the delicacy, the soft overlapping petals, the range of feminine colors. On his table, however, is a cheap-looking inner-organ-colored lace, purply brown silk, a garish glittery green thing and the entire notions sale rack, heavy on those fake doubloons one scatters on the tables at pirate-themed parties. I love Jerell, but his taste level is questionable.

Kenley has shot a cluster of what looks like coleus, a very interesting tropical with a wide variety of mottled leaves. These ones are purplish and, in the wrong hands, could resemble snake scales.

Leanne homes in on bees — bees! King of the Insects! — but bypasses them (aw) in favor of some pale-lavender flower.

Korto is inspired by a dramatic tropical-looking bloom with yellows and oranges — very vibrant and exotic. (Sorry, I know most plants pretty well, but not Botanic Gardens well.)

MYSTERY SEWING MACHINE THEATER
The Mood interlude ends with a lingering shot of Kenley's bag of extra tulle sitting forlornly on the counter. Hee, hee. Back in the workroom, she figures this out and tries to bum spare tulle — does the color count at all, honey? No? Carry on — and Leanne and Jerell actually hide theirs. She has to run her lazy ass back to Mood and pick up her own damn tulle. Then, while everyone else is fooling around, enjoying themselves, each other and their work — and wondering whether her bangs are suffienctly gelled to stay in place when Kenley is punched in the teeth — she whines about how she's been left out of everything her whole life.

So, let's add: Kenley is alone on the playground: "Those bitches won't let me play with them. Just because I called them bitches. But see? They are, because they won't let me play with them. Waaah!"

LET'S JUST START THE FRACKIN' SHOW
All the drama is in the judging this week, and none of it is one the runway. For what it's worth (NOTHING, at this point), Jerell is dressed in his usual insane way, less "gay African dictator" and more, as My Heterosexual Viewing Companion points out, as "Starring in a colonial zombie movie." His winning look is a gown mostly out of that brown stuff split in the front to reveal — I don't even know — that green thing and now there's red stuff and she's stepping on her train in the back and there are doubloons and other wickety-wack on the bosom. Uh, congratulations? The poor flowers are like, "Thanks, pal. The depressing hedges are over there." MHVC: "Now I'm gonna go eat John Adams' braaains."

Korto's gown is universally derided by the judges as being "pageanty," which isn't quite right. I think they're referring to the gross lace overlays she's put on the hips (she has a thing about emphasizing women's hips in a non-bootylicious way) and the color, which is exactly the color of St. Joseph's childrens aspirin. The halter neckline is boring and the model looks as if she's in a coma. Never a good sign.

Leanne, inspired by her lavender flower, which isn't lavender, has made a bluey-lilac gown with Leannish noodles-ruffles creeping from the hip to the shoulder. There's some layered interest on the front of the skirt, but boy, is this thing all one color. It's ... like a gumdrop. There's a dark blue panel in the back that confounds everyone.

Kenley, well, let's let Nina say it: "She looks like a pink snake."

Then the shebang, she explodes. The judges grab Kenley by the ankles and drag her toward the coals, but before she can be raked over them, La Princesse weighs in, nasally. "I think it's cool!" It's edgy! I would totally wear it! No!!! Don't take the belt off! She looks so young and hip! I do not do the same thing over and over! Fine, Heidi!"

Now, I know they're in fashion and all that, but Nina, Heidi, Michael Kors and guest judge Georgina Chapman (of Marchese) are the four most patient people on the planet. Not one of them ripped Kenley's stupid adornment thingie off her head and rammed it down her Revlon Love That Red. It's riveting to watch, and if you didn't get enough of the whining, backtalk and deep sighs, do check out the Bravo video extra on Page Two of the gayboys' most excellent blog at projectrungay.blogspot.com. She is constitutionally incapable of shutting up. Must be a tugboat thing.

And the loser, you ask? The loser is — you, the viewer! Because all four of these can't-make-a-gown no-hopers are going to design a collection, meaning Bryant Park is within everyone's grasp. Well, not if you've cheated and looked at everyone's final collection (including Suede's and Joe's, which are things to behold, lemme tellya), then it's clear that grasp isn't what some of these jokers have of fashion. And Kenley is still here — she's Wendy Pepper! Waaaah!

BEST QUOTE
Jerell: Everything he said about Kenley, beginning with "Kenley's ass is ridiculous."

Next week: Sigh. Jerell won for nothing, as anyone can still be eliminated. Get ready for a Very Special Epsidoe of "Project Runway." Oh, and Kenley rams her car into another driver's and wails, "But I wanted that parking space, and you took it! You're a taker, old lady!" Waaaah!"