Is it wrong that I ship* guest judge Adam Lambert and Joshua?
Cause I was definitely noticing a little somethin’-somethin’ between them. Or is that simply too much fabulousness for the universe to take in one relationship? The fumes from the haircare products alone could power a small Third World nation.
But I digress. . .
So remember Not!Allman guy from last week’s challenge? He’s baaaack. Well, not him literally. But his shaggy, unwashed, Southern-rock-lovin’ brethren—a soon to be very, very famous band called Sheep Dogs. (I swear, it looked like the casting call for Almost Famous 2 broke out.)
Of course, it was an absolute design trap to NOT makes these guys look “like an 8th grade production of Hair,” as Adam Lambert so aptly put it. Suffice it to say, the designers failed. In spectacular fashion.
But before the “designing” started, we are treated to the first of three—yes three—performances by Sheep Dogs. (Free promotion much? I won’t be surprised if next week, they ARE the Piper Lime accessory wall.)
So Sheep Dogs plug in their amps and Olivier is already covering his ears and writhing in agony. Remember kids, loud noises are among the many things that make Olivier very sad.
Once Sheep Dogs are finished “rockin’ the house,” the designers form two teams (not really) and each get to choose the bandmember they’d most like to design an outfit for.
Now, let’s face it, all these guys look like “before” photos, but only Anthony and Josh have the wherewithal to see that, underneath that Jesus hair and unkempt beard, Ryan is actually the cute one. They both pick him.
Laura gets fixated on Leot’s request for red jeans, so she picks him.
Viktor also picks Leot because, well, they could be long lost twin brothers, right? Shave Leot, give him a fancy little hair cut and bowtie, shrink him down a few inches, and it could be one of those Parent Trap deals—Viktor was raised by mom among the cocktail parties and shopping sprees of the Upper East Side; Leot was raised on the commune among the goats and drum circles by the pot-smoking dad. Through the magic of reality TV, they are united. . .
Kimberly and Anya both get some guy named Dashiki Dan. (Actually Sam.)
And Olivier and Bert both get the Nordic Guitar god Thor—aka Heidi, Girl of the Alps at a drag show, aka the lead singer Ewan.
To Mood they go, where the employees are all of a sudden getting facetime. Do you think they all threatened a walk out if Swatch got one more God damned closeup instead of them? (Can you imagine if you worked at Mood, featured weekly in a major television show, and all your friends were like, “Yeah, uh, can you hook me up with Swatch’s pawtograph?”)
There was a potentially dramatic moment where Bert gave Laura an extra $150 from his budget, which would’ve been intriguing in a Gift of the Magi kind of way, if he suddenly needed $150 worth of fabric to finish his design, but it didn’t work out that way, so whatevs. (They have an hour and a half show to kill, people. There’s going to be some filler.)
Also, Tim is trying out some sort of new Mood catch phrase and I didn’t like it one bit.
“Can’t do a thing without Mood!” he trills on the way out.
Just hold your horses there, Tim Gunn. The line is: “Thank you, Mood.” Thank. You. Mood. Stick to the script!
So the studio is awash with fringe and paisley and tie-dye and . . . taupe and ivory colored neutrals (you’ll never guess whose work station those are on!)
Kimberly was planning on making the world’s first plaid dashiki until Anya set her straight and gave her some putrid pumpkin-colored hippie fabric. Then Anya worried that maybe she had just given Kimberly the winning fabric. Spoiler alert: No.
Also, Joshua is trying on his pants and we get a closeup of his hairy butt in a pair of tightie-blackies. (Do you think he uses up all the wax on his eyebrows? Because for a man as fabulously well-groomed as Josh is, I’d expect his legs and butt to be a little less, well, hirsute.) (Or is that a thing? Like a skinny bear? A puma, perhaps? Where my gays at?)
For the second time in two weeks, Olivier is forced to deal with the scourge of body fat. He just can’t quite understand why everyone can’t be smooth and fat-free and genderless like him!
“I’m not used to designing clothes for plus-size,” he moans. (I love the lack of article in front of the word “plus-size.”) He’s really such a delicate, exotic little bird, isn’t he?
Not much happens, except I just realized that Tim Gunn does not like Olivier AT ALL. All of Olivier’s constantly running late, and his whining, and his suck-the-energy-out-the-room ennui is working Tim’s last nerve. I just love when Tim clearly hates a contestant.
Also, Bert? The so-called big expert on the 70s (cause he was alive in the 70s! which was a loooong time ago! when most of these contestants weren’t even born, but Bert was, like, just back from ’Nam or somethin) thinks that a dashiki is called a “shadiki.” His exact quote: “Seeing how these guys are from Canada, I’m not really seeing them in those shadikis, or whatever they are.”
Honey Badger, don’t ever change.
So Sheep Dogs are too cool to walk the runway (is that even possible?) so instead, they will be performing 2 songs in their new outfits, before taking up permanent residence next week on the Piper Lime accessory wall.
But before that, what was up with the headband that Anthony Ryan sported to the judging? I guess he thought it was “rocker.” But he actually looked like Rhoda Morgenstern. (If Bert was here, he’d be cracking up at my on-point ’70s humor.)
The songs begin and what can I say except: My eyes! My eyes! (And my ears! my ears! Just kidding. Sheep Dog are a perfectly adequate substitute if you can’t afford the Kings of Leon for your child’s obscenely overpriced 70s-themed Sweet 16 party.)
Each outfit was really more ridiculous than the next—I’m frankly amazed that they all resisted accessorizing with a tambourine—although I suppose Viktor’s getup for his taller twin Leot was slightly less embarrassing. That jacket had a kind of Game of Thrones meets Easy Rider vibe that I sorta dug.
At least Anya knew that her dashiki was a dadon’ti.
“I want to run from the room it’s so bad,” she says.
Since all the comments blended together, I’ll just give a few highlights of what the judges said about the clothing: Pocahontas, reggae jesus, suede lobster bib, 8th grade production of Hair, Golden Girl goes rock and roll moment, Peter Brady at an Autumn harvest, Forest Elf, Tinkerbell’s boyfriend.
I’ll just add: Ditto.
Among the many adorable things about Adam Lambert (besides his dreamy blue eyes) is how he giggled at all of Michael Kors’ and Nina’s and Heidi’s jokes. He can stay.
And thank goodness I was able to focus on the burgeoning romance between Adam and Joshua instead of the godawful clothing. There was some serious eye-sexing going on between them. For this much-needed distraction, boys, I give thanks.
So. . .
Viktor wins! He’s totally in the lead right now, isn’t he guys? He’s definitely been consistently excellent. (However, if next week he designs a pair of red bell bottoms and a Canadian dashiki, we’ll know my Parent Trap theory was right.)
And it comes down to Kimberly vs. Olivier to go home.
I must say, I would’ve been crushed if Kimberly was sent packing. It just didn’t feel like her time.
Aaaaand. . .it wasn’t. Olivier is out.
Backstage, the remaining contestants smother Olivier in hugs, which upsets him. Because human contact is gross and hugs are even grosser, and they make him sad.
“Get out!” Tim basically yells. (Okay, it’s not quite that abrupt, but it’s seriously the least warm, least gracious Tim Gunn send-off ever. Tim is so OVER Olivier.)
So Olivier is gone. But not to worry. If he doesn’t make it as a designer of haute-drab things, he’ll always turn the world on with his smile. (Bert to me: “Up high!”)
*Fangirl speak for wanting to see a couple in a relationship. (You’re welcome, mom.)