Gather 'round ladies and ambiguously gay gentlemen, it's another season of Project Runway. And I couldn't be more excited. In the non-stop cycle of revolving reality competition shows, Runway is a gem. Or as Elaine from Seinfeld would say, "it's a peach." It's got everything you would ever want from a reality program -- hot models, fierce competition, a major prize, psychological breakdowns aplenty, queers, hot fashion, nasty judges, and mean white bitches. The first season of Runway was fierce, and this season looks even better. 

The premiere was actually two episodes aired back-to-back. While I'm not typically a fan of two hour premieres or finales, I think that it worked for this show because you really need to be submerged in it to "get hooked." It began very American Idol-esque, but with less singing, and more queer boys with dreams of swirling fabrics dancing in their heads. The panel of judges went to several cities and sat behind cafeteria-style folding tables draped in cheap black linen, while wannabe fashion designers showed off their best work and gave their sob stories. I won't spend much time recapping this part of the show, but I would like to quote one (rejected) designer as telling the judges, "I spent several years in New York making space suits for chickens." Do you see why I love gay men so? Really, I do.

Another highlight of the American Idol rip-off audition was our first meeting of Diana Eng. Diana is a neeeeerd. (Imagine me saying that in the American Splendor nerd voice) She is the nerdiest of nerds and she showed up to the audition with a hoodie that was equipped with a mini-camera and a heart monitor. The mini-camera was hooked up to the heart monitor and when it detects a raise in your heart palpitations it starts taking pictures, because the assumption is that you are excited by something you see and you would want a picture of it. A genius? Or just a nerd? It's too early to tell, but of course, Diana made the cut.

During the audition process, we also discover that Daniel Franco (eliminated early in the first season) is back again to prove himself. For whatever reason, the judges decide to give him another chance. Hmmm, I'm biting my tongue as to not judge Franco too early. I'm wiping the slate clean and giving him a fresh start.

Sixteen designers were chosen and flown out to New York to live in a lackluster hotel. (I know it's better than most hotels, but still...it's nothing for reality TV digs.) For the first competition, the designers were given 6 yards of muslin* and $20. (*I didn't know what it was either, but apparently it's cheap-ass, unbleached cotton. Somewhere, an Amish man is tipping his wide-brimmed hat in approval.) Prior to arriving in New York, the designers had a week to make a garment that reflected who they were. 

Right away, some designers clearly sucked. Namely, Heidi and John, who were both eliminated because their designs were too boring and (quite frankly) their personalities were slightly annoying. Heidi's cheerleader rah-rah crap really made me want to like, gag myself with a spoon. And I just didn't feel anything toward John (his dress pictured left) and his stupid little tie. Santino won with this kick-ass dress. Although, I had a soft spot for Nick's dress suit. And oh, I can barely remember his name and I don't know what he designed, but I would absolutely love to spend some time in the dressing room* with this guy. (*Veiled reference to having raucous sex with a random reality television designer in a small cramped space.) 

Heidi Klum is back again as host and she looks as ravishing as ever, even while being 15 months pregnant. Only a few women in the world can look beautiful after having swallowed 3 basketballs, and fortunately for Heidi, she is one of them. Speaking of hot models, this season has an unusual twist in that the models who are featured in the designers' clothes are also competing for a magazine layout. Each model is paired with a designer and as the designers get eliminated, so do the models. In the middle of the premiere, there was an uncomfortable moment when all the models had to line up in a chorus line while the designers picked which girl they wanted to work with for the duration of the season (the designers actually didn't know that the girls they picked would be theirs till the end until later). It had an elementary school "pick me, pick me" kickball feel to it, and I felt bad for the girls who got picked last. But then I remembered that they are prettier than me, and so I went back to hating them.

With two duds down, the cool kids went back to their lame-ass hotel rooms to prepare for a party that was being thrown for them and the models. But wait a second...not so fast, don't think you're gonna have too much fun at the "party." You are in a reality competition. At the party, the designers are told that they had to literally take the clothes off their backs to make an outfit for tomorrow's competition. This leads to a lot of moaning because the designers either a) wore ugly outfits or b) cherished clothes, which they would have to sacrifice for the competition. I'm going to take a moment right now to point out what I've always thought -- designers typically look like crap. It's a weird thing. They spend their lives making other people look good, but can't seem to make themselves look good. It sorta reminds me of hairstylists. A lot of them have crappy haircuts too. I don't know why.

Once again, Santino's outfit rocked and so did Chloe's blue jersey dress, halter creation. Chloe ended up being the winner, while Santino showed poor sportsmanship, and snipped that the only reason he didn't win was because the judges didn't want him to win two weeks in a row.

But forget the winners, the real excitement was with the losers. Namely, Andrae. What a nutbag this guy turned out to be. Whoa! At the party, Andrae was wearing jeans and a denim jacket, so he decided to transform them into some sort of Asian garment that reflected the struggle that he has gone through for the past three years....blah, blah, blah. Basically, he made a jean dress. But when the judges asked him to explain his design he burst into tears sobs. I mean, hysterical sobs. He sounded like a junior high school girl, that just got dumped before the Valentine's dance. He didn't make any sense at all. It was horrible.

The only thing that was more horrible than Andrae's breakdown was Kirsten's outfit -- a Porsche halter top paired with a cheesy leather skirt. It looked like white trash gaudiness at its absolute worst. It was so bad, it was embarrassing. Courtney Love wouldn't wear this outfit even during her puffy-faced, heroin-induced, barrette-wearing phase. It was that bad. What makes it even funnier is that Kirsten seemed like a stuck-up bitch. She designs swimsuits, but wait...."the kind of swimsuits that you would wear to a nice lunch in St. Tropez." That's her quote, not mine. And that's why I was happy to hear Heidi say, "You're out, Kirsten. Auf Wiedersehen."