TV Fan

By: Missy Schwartz

One of these days on Project Runway, Heidi is going to walk out onto the runway, do her smiley-wave-happy-hello! thing, and chirp, ''Are you guys ready for your next challenge?'' The designers will scream, ''No, we ain't, beeyotch!'' and then start busting up the place, smashing chairs and shouting nonsensically about the injustice of zigzag stitches.

Okay, fine, so the chances of that actually happening are about as good as Tim Gunn showing up to work in the geisha outfit from Chris' portfolio, but it'd be a fun change and inject some needed energy into the opening proceedings. I can't be the only one who noticed how dreadfully lackluster the group sounded last night, responding to Heidi's (rhetorical) question with a muffled chorus of ''Mmm-hmm...yes...sure.''

However blasé the contestants appeared, they snapped to it once Heidi announced the task: design a prom dress for one of the New Jersey high schoolers standing in front of them. Most of the designers seemed to think the challenge was funny, except Christian, who called prom ''horrible and tacky and gross.'' Victorya apparently agreed, seeing as she struggled to mask her pained, ''this is beneath me'' look. Which is kind of ironic, considering she ended up winning. Doubly so since her model, Jessica, didn't even seek Victorya out; the poor teen got stuck with her when she was the last to choose her designer. But that was ''fine,'' Jessica very sweetly assured the Vickster. ''I liked your portfolio.'' Aww, a teenager with manners!

Maybe it's because when I hear the words ''prom dress,'' I suddenly find myself in a cold-sweat panic, fearful that I'll somehow have to jump back 15 years and return to the fiery pits of hell known as South Hadley High School, but the fruits of last night's challenge failed to wow me. Kit's dress looked like a Smurf had mated with the electronic memory game Simon; Jillian's was a sea foam yawner seemingly inspired by The Little Mermaid; and Kevin's could have been a leftover from the bargain bin at Forever 21. Or, according to the girl's mother, A Pea in the Pod. (Way to instill self-esteem in your daughter, lady.)

Then there was Christian. It didn't take long to figure out that his being coupled with an opinionated young gal — one who, calling herself a designer, quickly snatched the pencil from his hand to show him exactly what she wanted — was gonna be bad news. And it was. Suddenly stripped of his typically cocksure, ''I'm awesome and know better than all of you!'' attitude once he was face to face with a determined little 17-year-old named Maddie, Christian floundered from the beginning. Not only was he not ''feeling very fierce'' (total season count: 10), but for the first time, he failed to inject his own much-bragged-about vision into what turned out to be an unflattering brown pouf covered in black lace and shiny things. (In Christian parlance, ''tickety-tackery.'') Ultimately, the dress wasn't much chicer than the off-the-rack frocks worn by the two gals standing next to the teenage Christian in his prom snapshot. (Kudos to the high school that crowned a boy sporting a sparkly vest and spiked hair best dressed. Honestly, those flashback pictures were so genius I could write a whole TV Watch on them alone: Kevin loved mousse, Kit was once a demure brunette prom princess, and Sweet P went to the dance with Jeff Spicoli!)

It was odd to see Christian so uncharacteristically thrown last night. He couldn't even bring himself to tell his model she looked ''very cute'' without looking like he was about to lose his lunch. And so, Mr. Mega-Ego found himself in the bottom two this week, after his eagerness to blame Maddie rubbed Nina the wrong way. The one-two punch of Christian's chastised expression and Nina's angry, furrowed brow was genius.

After winning immunity in the candy challenge, Rami was surely surprised to find himself in the lower ranks this week, thanks to yet another exercise in drapery. Unlike Christian, he prided himself on not giving up any of his vision, but that ended up biting him in the arse, since his dress was, in Michael Kors' opinion, better suited for a ''35-year-old woman in New York going out to dinner.'' Rami may have never been to prom, having grown up in Jerusalem, but you can't tell me he's never seen an American teenager. In any case, the decision to keep him up there on the runway, sweating under the lights as if he really were in danger of getting the boot, was just silly. A cheap manipulation. Clearly it was the two designers sandwiching him, Ricky and Kevin, who were panicking.

Especially Kevin, who, despite feeling confident in the challenge because of his own New Jersey roots, produced this week's biggest stinker. Curling his lip in that trademark expression of disgust, Kors declared it ''$29.95 prom'' and dissed Kevin for the unfinished hem, which — tsk, tsk — Chris and Tim both had warned Kevin about. ''The dress didn't look rich, definitely,'' added guest judge Gilles Mendel, as if speaking about a chocolate soufflé. Still, for all of the dress' problems, I was shocked and sad to see Kevin go — particularly before Cry Me a River Ricky, who has been a weaker player all season — Kors even said he was consistently ''close but no cigar'' — and whose pale pink number was about as innovative as a bejeweled marshmallow.

Sweet P managed to turn it around this week with an Athena-meets-Marilyn gown that she wisely decided to make less revealing, lest the po-po haul her away for tarting up a minor who essentially wanted to show off her butt crack. (It's taking everything I have not to type something along the lines of ''Kids today, I tell ya, back in my day...'') Victorya ultimately edged out Ms. P with her razzle-dazzle blue minidress. Shockingly, Chris was not up there with them to form a top 3. His flowing green gown was sophisticated and age appropriate. And if I ever did find myself doomed to repeat 12th grade — excuse me while my soul screams — I'd wear Chris' dress. Actually, scratch that. I'd track down his high school self and join him for a night of All About Eve and pinot noir. I'd buy a plaid bathrobe for the occasion.

In a season that is woefully low on interesting characters, Chris' warm wit just gets more and more delightful. I love how he joked to Tim Gunn that he was making a Christmas poinsettia dress; that he proudly posed for his own portfolio in drag with huge ''fake boobs''; and that he wondered if Kit Pistol's mother was named Machine Gun (ha!).