Heidi Klum’s got her high boots on, Tim Gunn’s wearing his just-sucked-lemon face, and a slew of models sports unspeakably impractical but unmistakably original threads.
Bravo’s “Project Runway” debuts for a third season next week with the “best caliber of designers we’ver ever seen,” according to Gunn, chair of Fashion Design for Parsons The New School for Design. He’s not just spinning, either. The bluntly honest judge – the series’ less egomaniacal and bombastic counter to Simon Cowell – knows that the talent competing for a shot at New York Fashion Week in September is quite advanced this season.
By the time the 15 are selected, our expectations are high: These aren’t kids stitching the kind of designs Gunn so often disparages as “school work.” These are seasoned creators, many with advanced degrees and an array of life experience, who bring a mature sensibility to their creations.
Unlike the more gimmicky reality shows, this one rewards actual artistic vision rather than luck, pushiness or timing. Addictive and full of surprises, it makes the subject of schmatas – that’s “rags” to non-Garment District types – endlessly fascinating.
At its best, “Project Runway” is almost better than shopping.
“Road to the Runway,” chronicling the audition process in Los Angeles, Chicago, Miami and New York, and the selection of 15 contenders from thousands of wannabes, will be broadcast at 7 p.m. Wednesday. That leads into the first hour of the third season of “Project Runway,” the series’ first summer premiere, at 8 p.m.
Gunn is right: The level of expertise among this season’s contenders promises a first-rate competition. Don’t be surprised if a major label emerges from this pack.
Bubbly flounces to skin-tight leather, Ohio farm resident to Los Angeles rock-star designer, the fashions and their creators are more diverse than usual.
One competitor has spent years designing clothes for Mattel’s Barbie (“She’s not a diva, and her weight doesn’t fluctuate,” he says appreciatively). He is now interested in creating human-size apparel. Another is an athletic sportswear specialist who will be hard-pressed to come up with evening gowns.
Several contenders swore off the high-pressure world of design years ago but have returned to the field later in life. For all, fashion is a passion. (Viewers are herewith encouraged to devise drinking games incorporating any and all versions of that phrase.)
Embrace your inner narcissist and join the series that delights in reinforcing the most limp- wristed and backbiting fashion industry stereotypes. Notoriously exclusive and nasty, the business doesn’t get any PR help from this show. As a purveyor of stereotypes, “Project Runway” probably puts the gay- rights movement back 25 years. Yet clichés tend to come from somewhere, don’t they?
The introductory hour sports several “what were they thinking?” segments, inviting viewers to make fun of the most grievous concepts.
Also included are “where are they now?” segments, plugging the series and catching up with previous season’s winners. Best is an update on Jay McCarroll, the mesmerizingly bizarre first season champ, who says he’s tired of being asked where his collection is and when he will finally unveil a line. So, where is his collection and when will he unveil a line?
Expect the long-awaited fashion unveiling in September. McCarroll’s transformation from a slacker with a bad wardrobe of high school leftovers to a man in black with a respectable haircut is most intriguing. He actually looks like a designer now.
Season two’s Chloe Dao offers the most honest appraisal of what winning has done for her. “Now I can charge more,” she says cheerfully.
Klum, the host and executive producer, continues to represent the least interesting aspect of the series. The product placements are less jarring than in most reality TV constructs and the brisk pace set by the editing maintains a fresh feel, even in the third season.
Sure, the push to the runway gets repetitive. But like an exhausting day of power shopping, there’s often a rewarding find that makes it all worthwhile.
TV critic Joanne Ostrow can be reached at 303-820-1830 or jostrow@denverpost.com.
