What you deem "Good TV" just won out over good design. Fooey!
It's no longer a surprise - or even mildly intriguing - when you end the so-called competition without the number of winners you set out to. No laughing and high-fiving amongst the winners? (Mr. Spandrel even noted, while passing by the TV on his way to the other room, that "Nobody looks happy?")
That's because they weren't!
Kenley's poor-me impassioned pleas, not her talents as a designer, won her a reprieve for her godzilla-mermaid, flappy-scaled dress. Heck, every creative type has been an outcast at one time or another. I got news for you, Kenley, you are just -- just mean and unpleasant!
And tell me how you can justify allowing some trumped-up pageantry charge dangle Korto over the edge of the Auf Precipice. Just because the woman isn't a loud mouth, she should be punished?
My prediction for the selection of the real final three during the finale?
The designers show up with their collections in tow, but are told they have to make a wedding gown out of muslin or some other weird, restrictive fabric, proving who has the most vision and last-minute chops under duress. In an hour.
And either Korto or Leanne will explode in the pressure-cooker that is the looming-in-the-distance Fashion Week. Kenley will adopt that tough-girl-from-the-50s stance and blabber on and on and on and on until the judges say "Uncle."
Jerrell will summon some kind of kooky muse that inspires him to create something intriguing and over-the-top that gives him the win that legitimately gets him the Bryant Park show. With a tut-tut from Michael Kors and Nina Garcia, telling him he'd better be focused on finishing and touching up those raggedy hems.
And maybe Leanne's Judy Noodles garments will get the nod. Or maybe Korto's African-inspired big-look designs will get her in, all depending on how the nerves fray...
But to think that Kenley, with her Mad Men frocks and her wackadoo prints is showing in New York City with the imprimatur of the Project Runway Final Three?
It almost makes me want to not tune in.
But I will, because I want to see everyone else, and I mean everyone. I just may need to hit the mute button every time Mean Girl opens her big mouth.