Project RunwayWhat's Mine Is Yours Season 8 • Episode 7
Full disclosure: We went into this episode still reeling from the loss of Peach (who everyone and their Peach-like mom knew was a goner from the get-go), and basically wanting the judges to just c'mon and hurry it up already with their eliminations. It's Fashion Week, for god's sake — the collections all walked yesterday, so we can pretty much guess who won anyway.
But alas, Lifetime has ads to sell and products to place, so it's back to the runway for yet another tedious challenge. The contestants must be as tired as we are because their well-beings are starting to crumble: Sad sack Michael C. is moping around saying everybody hates him; everybody says they hate Michael C. 'cause they're convinced he can't sew and/or that he's having vigorous eye sex with the judges behind their backs to get as far as he's gotten; and a newly Peach-less April is forced to move in with the remaining lady contestants (hallelujah for Valerie, 'cause rooming with Wretched Gretchen and Poison Ivy sounds preferential only to bunking on Brett Michaels's bus o' bottle-blonde hellcats).
Tim Gunn and Michael Kors meet the designers down at the marina for brunch and "a very Michael Kors challenge": They must create a resort-wear look that illustrates their point of view. "I got this," brags Palm Springs-er Michael C. Andy South, who lives in Hawaii with what we imagine is a very large collection of single earrings, says he churns out resort wear like any other type of daywear. Michael D. talks nonsensically about his "vision being a gift." But other designers aren't so confident. Mondo isn't sure what resort-wear even is (underwear? T-shirts?), and Casanova is fixated on the fact that it's a Michael Kors challenge and Michael Kors thinks everything he makes is too grandma, too slutty, too flamenco dancer, etc., and therefore he is most definitely going to lose. Whine, whine, whine, cry, cry, cry, on and on and on. Is this the biggest buncha Project Runway babies you've ever seen, or what?
Back in the workroom, Tim shows up with the dreaded velvet pouch, and the bitching continues. "I hate the bag," moans Michael D. "I haaaaaate the bag. I. hate. this. bag." And with good reason: Tim is about to announce that this is now a team resort challenge: One person must be the designer and the other must be the sample maker. "Successful designers in the fashion industry do not make their own work," explains Tim. "They outsource to sample rooms and production houses. In a manner of speaking, that is what you're going to be doing today." Cue additional groaning.
So Valerie is paired with Andy, Gretchen with Casanova ("Oh my gosh, she believe I'm a retard"), Hot Christopher with April, Ivy with Michael D. ("I could just feel her crazy"), and Mondo with Michael C. "Oh, yay. I am so pissed, I can't even stand it," Mondo tells the camera dryly. "I feel like I want to scream." But of course he doesn't. He just stands around looking emo, and then later lashes out, telling Michael C. that his construction is "awful." This makes us angry 'cause up till now, we really liked Mondo and his pompadour. But then, after a few hours of working closely with the widely loathed Michael C., Mondo comes to his own jerky senses, admitting "I was being a dick" and apologizing like the little big man that he is. (On a side note though, uh, what the eff is going on between Mondo and Michael C., post-makeup/makeout session? We didn't like when Mondo was trash-talking the poor sap, but it seems preferential to the alternative, which is them being bestest buds, sitting like two cherubs on a tree swing with their arms slung around one another's necks. That's just creepy.)
The final surprise of the episode comes when Tim makes his workroom rounds — and brings MK along for some one-on-one feedback. Kors, of course, is always good for a one-liner, and this is no exception. He calls one garment a "prison matron sack" (not unfairly), and later chides Valerie for her ugly color choice. Valerie goes off and blubbers to the camera, and another pity party commences. What is with these people? Maybe the show's extra 30 minutes should be used for a group therapy session? Bah. Anyway, onto the runway!