By the time you read this, I will have already watched the first episode of the new, one million and eleventh season (okay, eighteenth, and I can name every winner ... in order) of Project Runway. I will already have all of the contestants’ names memorized, I will have opinions about all of their application portfolios (“Filler designer!” “Too studenty!” “Who is she dressing, Blanche Devereaux?”) and one thing is for absolute certain: the person I root for right out of the gate will already be eliminated. It happens Every. Single. Season. Sorry, Daniel! Sorry, Stacey! Sorry, Jerry! It’s all my fault.
Of all the shmatte shows, the original is still the best, even with the host/mentor changes of the past few years. I loved Tim and Heidi, but their more recent show together—Making the Cut—had too much talk about branding and not enough about making stuff. It was more Shark Tank than anything about whipping out an outfit. It could have been called Making a Candle and been the exact same show.
But nothing beats PR. Christian Siriano is back in the mentoring slot and he’s good at it; he’s an excellent Tim proxy personality-wise (and I think he gives better advice). This season, there’s a contestant named Bones Jones and it’s hard to not root for someone with that name. BONES. JONES. I would buy some BONES JONES togs; send me the link. I hope I haven’t jinxed him.
What I’m saying is: you should watch it too (especially if you work in the warehouse with me), because if past seasons are any indication, it is all I will be talking about for the next twelve weeks or so.
Season 18 of Project Runway is airing on regular old Bravo, stuffed in between a bunch of drunken housewives. If you’ve never seen the other 17 seasons, not only am I 100% jealous of you, but you also now have something to keep you busy until we’re ready to move to our new moon colony in three hundred and sixty one years.