Yes, Kim and I probably share a brain at some moments, because I really was going to title this thing "Vincent Gets Off" or "Getting Vincent Off" or similar. And I still did.
I mean, really, now. How many times do we have to see him in his tank 'beater undershirt, or his boxer shorts, or some combination of the two in various states of undress in the workroom, chest hair a-flyin' like something out of Austin Powers, droning incessantly about how fashion "gets (him) off." Eww. Gross. Disgusting. Even sitting on the grassy knoll in Paris... talking about getting off. Nasty.
And how about that sick, obsequious crap he pulled with Catherine Malandrino on the boat? Wasn't that the best when Heidi read Catherine's scorecard and the comments? "No. No. No. No. No." Hee!
Here's a snippet of Vincent's totally delusional interview with Entertainment Weekly:
I was not kissing up to her at all. I likened her to Anouk Aimée. I don't kiss up to anybody. When I looked at Catherine, I saw Anouk Aimée, and she just blows my doors off. I saw a little bit of that in Catherine's style. I approached Catherine, and I said, ''I'm really fascinated by your style.'' But I don't think she liked my dress. When judges see something new, they get intimidated themselves. With Catherine and Michael Kors, I think there was a little bit of intimidation. I might frighten other designers. I really don't know.
Wow. Uh, Vincent? I know, I know! You frighten America, dude. Please go read the EW article. He's utterly nuts. I think, frankly, the on-camera editing did him a lot of favors. He's cra-zee.
I guess sucking up to the judges ultimately didn't work after all. Once again, I have to agree with Kim on this one. Is Vincent, like, in some way reminding Heidi of Pappy Klum? Is there some daughter/father guilt there? Did she feel bad about the 401K or something?
I almost loved Jeffrey a little bit for grinding at his fat neck with the Remington and messing with Vincent's slumber. Because Vincent was so far past his sell-by date. He was shelf-rot. Some upholstery with Judy Jetson sleeves? Again? Vincent, old man, hope you still have your COBRA. Because it's time for those meds to be checked. For real this time.
Now, Jeffrey. Okay, so I don't love it when an obvious misanthrope who claims some kind of bizarro Santa Claus relationship with God (and also claims to know when God is drunk, or not, as seems to have been the case in Jeffrey's twisted mind last week and this week) states that he is "happy, joyous and free."
Those three words? Spoken by Jeffrey? About Jeffrey? Uh, no.
Happy? Only when he can make someone cry.
Joyous? Perhaps at the sight of another's suffering.
Free? The man is the definition of a person obsessed with himself. No freedom in that, son.
That said, he was the only contestant who created anything that approximated "couture" in my mind. Highly derivative, seen-it-somewhere-before, but yes, sort of couture-ish. And his model worked it. She looked like she was having some fun with that business.
And Kayne. Oh, dear. His days are sadly numbered. As Nina said, the taste level just isn't there. But did anyone else notice how much better that gown looked on the Parisian model? Was it because she was much smaller? Not sure, but I think so. Anyone else notice how much slighter those models were? I will be sad to see him go. Because he's going next week. He loves, loves, loves what he does. But indeed, the taste level is not there. However, Kayne will never lack for customers, God bless him.
Oh Laura. I've heard the camera adds ten pounds. Does the camera also add three month's gestation as well? That belly didn't look like any three-month pregnant woman I'd ever seen... But maybe that's what happens when you've had five pregnancies already? Jesus H. Christmas. Oh, bother, though. I am a little tired of The Standard Laura Fare. It works, and it works beautifully... normally. But it really decomposed this time. Michael Kors really brought it to light, did he not? Give her a feather duster and she's a French maid, oui?
Speaking of judges, how about guest judge Richard Tyler? Love the mumbling, greasy Keith Richards-esqueness of him. Obviously he missed his sitdown in the TreSemmé hairsalon. What was in that hair of his? The egg that was thrown from the balcony at Michael's model? I have some RT boots and a suit in the closet, circa 1995. Very severe, yet still wearable. I digress.
Uli? Well, not bad. Definitely not couture, but definitely a close second place. But again, I am a little bit tired of The Standard Uli Fare. At least this time it was monochromatic. Does she seem like she gets a bit defensive when criticized by the judges? Crossed arms, Teutonic frown? She doesn't seem the type to take direction well.
And sigh, Michael. What can I say but obviously the judges love you as much as we do. Because that dress was a mess. And, yes, you were doing what Malan was trying to do with the ruching. But you need some additional skillz. No doubt you could be a master rucher one day. Thank goodness you won't have to. You'll have minions to do it for you.