Auf wiedersehen, Project Runway

No sooner had the Time-Warner cable guy left today than my hand was on the remote flipping channels. Like a spirit from beyond guiding the planchette on a Ouija board, I went straight to Bravo to watch the Project Runway marathon, including the 2-hour season finale. Never mind that we were in the middle of unpacking.

I was surprised at how hooked I'd been on watching this fashion soap opera unfold, considering how clueless I am at judging good fashion. Eric and Sheri got me hooked on the show from the start. Luis pooh-poohed it during the season, but yesterday he sat and watched the whole marathon, biting his nails like me. Seeing self-absorbed, egotistical, backstabbing designers claw their way to a spot at Fashion Week in New York was both a great escape from and far more stressful than moving. Watching each episode, I remembered why I was glad each person got bumped off. "Oh, that's right--she's a conniving bitch." "I remember now--he's talentless."

I was disappointed that Boy George successor Austin didn't make it to the final three and that Wendy did. She won the Grammy's challenge, but she was inconsistent as a designer, as evidenced by her final runway collection. She seemed to be the Omarosa of the group. Luis was gunning for Kara because of the shoe incident, but I thought her designs were polished and beautiful. We both hoped that the eccentric and wacky Jay from rural Pennsylvania would win. He did. Luis and I both thought Robert was hot. Kevin was cute too. I thought it was interesting that on the Web site his age is listed as 44, but on screen it was 37.

That Debbie Allen sure had it right: Got big dreams...want fame. Well, fame costs, and right here's where you start paying...with sweat!"