Wednesday, July 26, 2006

But I don't even care about fashion!

I go through these weird phases of liking shows that aren't worth really watching--Flavor of Love, My Fair Brady,America's Next Top Model etc.--and wonder why I'm so endlessly fascinated at the visual car wrecks contained therein. It's not like any of these shows are going to make me smarter; quite the reverse, it would seem. And yet, like a moth to a flame, I cannot resist.

Hence, Project Runway.

I'm not entirely sure why this has become Must-See TV for me, but it sure has. Most of my friends will tell you that while I'm not too fashion-impaired, you don't yearn to deign me a fashionista in any sense. And can you imagine anything more boring than watching people sew? Apparently not. I stumbled across repeats of Season 2 a month or so ago on an idle Sunday afternoon, recovering from a staggering hangover. Somehow watching a bunch of bitchy would-be designers go at it with all the gusto of sharks fighting over a surfer was awesome. I became hooked. I loved everything--from the bad outfits to the egos to the slightly robotic Heidi Klum--and I loved watching it in marathon form. I was aghast when the very pretty Daniel Vosovic (the favored winner and one of the few gay men I would like to be a boy for a few hours with) lost to Chloe Dao; I anxiously awaited to see what bitchiness would exit Santino Rice's mouth. In other words, I enjoyed myself.

So now Season 3 is upon us and it's hard to watch it on a weekly basis. I want every single episode NOW. Unfortunately, the lot of would-be designers this year seem rather bland, and the one my friends and I thought was going to be the villain was already given the "Auf Weidershen" by Heidi. Alas, I shall continue to watch. I shall continue to give mad-ass props to Tim Gunn, who can cut those snotty fuckers down to size with less than two sentences.

All right. So maybe I need a hobby. Any suggestions?

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