There’s a great scene in Woody Allen’s Take the Money and Run where Woody, playing a hapless bank robber, hands the bankteller a note.
“I have a gub?” she asks.
“No, it’s I have a gun,” Woody hisses.
So she calls another teller over: “What does this say?”
“I have a gub,” the other teller confirms.
And so it was with Emilio and his signature print. Mila had no idea what the heck it said. And Tim Gunn thought it was some kind of tribute to his bromance with Seth Aaron. (“Does that say I heart Seth Aaron?”) It actually said E Sosa, except the “o” was a heart. Clever. (Not really.)
The question remained: Would Emilio’s indecipherable egomania be his undoing? (Yes, I realize that my breathless cliffhangers lose much of their impact since you’ve all seen the show already, but I just can’t help myself.)
As you’ve already gathered, the challenge here was to design your own print, which was kinda cool, even if it was painful to watch Vivienne Tam shilling so shamelessly for Hewlett Packard.
“They made the computer more personal,” she recited. (Hmmm, where have I heard that before?)
So then the designers got to play with the coolest computer game ever, where you kind of paint on a screen and it turns into a pattern. (Imagine how much time Jackson Pollack would’ve saved with this sucker.)
Some of the designers pattern choices were, shall we say, curious?
Mila did something that sort of looked like what a room painter does to test her paint samples on a wall.
Jonathan, still clearly broken up over the auf’ing of his BFF, decided to go with a pattern I’d like to officially rename: Subtle cry for help. (“Everything is pale as hale!” Anthony decreed. Couldn’t have said it better myself.)
Emilio did his I Heart Me thing.
Seth Aaron decided to go for something really different for a change: A British take on pop punk! (Sigh.)
Meanwhile, Anthony was jibber jabbering away about Oprah and Beyonce and god knows what else. . .
“I do not purposely try to be entertaining!” he deadpanned. Ha, ha—good one.
Tim came in to assess the textiles. He wasn’t quite sure what to make of Mila’s maxi-dress, so to punish him, she called him “TG.” Seriously, Mila, have you ever met a man less deserving of a casual, diminutive nickname than Tim Gunn? What next: T Dogg? T Sizzle? Show the man a little respect!
As previously mentioned, Tim was flummoxed by Emilio’s “Narcissism on Parade” print. But Emilio stuck to his concept. So what if he took the phrase “signature textile” a little too literally? He was committed.
Down the runway they come.
It’s funny that Michael Kors called Jonathan’s getup a disco straight jacket, because that term could’ve also easily applied to Mila’s maxi-dress. The poor model couldn’t move her legs 2 inches in that thing. When the model had the audacity to pick up the side of the skirt—so as not too topple over—Mila’s rolled her eyes. “She ruined it,” she said.
I loved Maya’s print the best, but she kind of overdid it with the sculptural wickety wack. So close. . .
(By the way, can you believe she’s only 21? She’s seriously the most mature person in the competition.)
I need to say it: I just don’t get Seth Aaron. Lady Gaga would reject his stuff for being too gimmicky.
Back to Emilio: Got to give the guy credit. Coming up with a signature fabric when no one knows who you are (or can read your handwriting) is gutsy. But damned if it didn’t work. His dress was hot. I would totally wear it (and insist that “Esosa” is Hebrew for “fierce.”) He deserved the win.
Phrases used to describe Jonathan’s “cry for help” dress:
“Full on catastrophe.”
“It was pitchy, dog.” (Oh wait, strike that last one.)
And yet, miraculously, Jonathan didn’t go home. And neither did Mila, despite the fact that her model seemed have her legs bound.
Nope, Anthony went home for being too. . .Anthony.
But in true Anthony spirit, he went out with a smile on his face and a piece of Southern-fried hokum on his tongue:
“You don’t have to have the crown to be the queen,” he exclaimed. I’ll miss the guy.