Last night was the Project Runway finale. Could you feel it? It was in the air! It was positively zeitgeisty! Even our bartender at Little Dom's was going on about it. (Well, actually, she had forgotten, but we reminded her. And then she was all, "Runway this," and "Christian that!") We scarfed down a pizza with speck and fresh arugula (delish!), and headed over to our friend's place on Elevado St. for the big show. Things only got better from there. There was champagne and guacamole, and a wall-mounted TV, and a whirlwind of last-minute Bryant Park preparations. Silly Jillian, you took a model variety-pack when you should have stuck to just one kind, like a dozen 5'10" Asians—how fierce would that have been? You're OK, but you're not, like, fierce. Your dad is kind of fierce, though. And there's Rami, who is deeply influenced by a Joan of Arc poster or something. Quit hissing, everyone, we can't hear what Rami is saying! Oh—he's saying Christian is young and has a lot to learn about the fashion business. [Fierce megaspoiler after the jump!]
Well, guess what, Rami! You can proceed to suck it, cause Christian now has $100,000, a spread in Elle, and a fierce Saturn hatchback to help him learn. Cause he WON, bitches! He turned this mother out. Guess Christian let it slip on Regis and Kelly after all! How does that feel, Rami? Probably less than feroche.