A few thoughts on the fleeting appeal of Project Runway

I knew going into last week's post that it would have a special niche of interest, that niche containing two friends and a former professor or two. This week, for a change, I thought I'd explore something a bit more universal.

I have been keeping up with Project Runway for about a year now, which, I know, is behind the times as most of us are concerned. With the help of YouTube, however, I've managed to catch up on the entirety of the past few seasons, and parts of some others (most notably Project Runway Australia, which has been pretty impressive so far). Now, I'm in no position to wax poetic about the good old days of Project Runway, when, if truth be told, it has always been essentially the same quality. There are simply a few observations I'd like to make on the greatness that is (or was) Project Runway.

Let's start with the opening sequence. If you remember back, there was a time when the opening sequence featured designers. Mind you, the amount they were featured was simply a quick shot of them, as they delivered a pre-written catch phrase that in some way summarized that designer's character (i.e. "I own the runway!" or "I'm just the best!"). I can't claim to truly miss this feature of the show, but I did notice a startling absence of . . . oh, I don't know . . . designers in the credits of a design show. Instead, we have an amazing view of the logos for Saturn, Bluefly, L'Oreal Paris, Elle Magazine, and of course the towering figure of Ms Heidi Klum. This strikes me as just one of the ways that the producers' hands are slowly and not too subtly taking the show into a different direction.

But on the subject of Heidi, something must be said about this:

Whoever dresses Heidi sometimes makes good choices, sometimes chooses unflattering animal print dresses. More importantly, however, I think two things are important to note about this outfit. First, that Heidi is a giantess. If I remember correctly, she measures something like seven feet, eight inches, and survives off the bones of her local mountain village's children. Second, the contestants are seated about four feet below the stage she is standing on. Add to that the typical cut of a Heidi dress (like this one), and one can only imagine that the contestants, by the end of the season, have a fairly authoritative knowledge of Ms Klum's cervical health (S. Kitson Conversations, September 2008).

Each episode features--other than the typical contestant bashing for which the show has become famous--a game I like to play called guessing by editing. For example, in the first two minutes of this week's episode, we heard Korto's family story and . . . nobody else's. About twenty minutes in, like clockwork, we get the same sort of family history with Kenley. Who do you suppose will be the source of drama for this episode, by which I mean the source of derision? The producers are trying to tell a cohesive story in the guise of reality, which I can accept as the terms of any reality show.

However, the problem arises in that a show that at one point seemed to be about designing outrageous clothes, has now degenerated completely into melodrama and catty commentary. The camp appeal is still there--in fact, it's been turned up all the louder. I think a fair reason for the producers pulling the focus on design out of the show (by removing the designers whenever possible, shifting the focus from the clothes to the melodrama) and moving toward an unerring devotion to the worst designs, is completely understandable when you consider the level of the designers. This group is, on the whole, of poor quality. But what can be expected after following a season like the last one, with its four very talented designers, each unique and capable in her or his own way? And, in terms of timing, there was so little time between seasons 4 and 5--many months less than there was for previous seasons. Final episode of season 4 aired in the first week of March, with the new season beginning only in the second week of July, a mere four months; compare with the eleven-month gap between seasons 3 and 4. In the latter case, there was an increase in quality of the designers; in the former, a marked decrease.

The fact is that Bravo seems to be getting desperate. The challenges have become consistently more outrageous, and so have the contestants. What haven't been keeping our attention are the clothes, where even the bad ones are simply boring. Bravo's solution is to turn the program into Real World with a runway, and to prey on the audience's love of catty critique to tide them through. Also, Bravo knows that it is losing the show to Lifetime in 2009, and this is its last chance to squeeze that cash cow for everything its worth, even if it means rushing out a new season. We will have to see what season 6, shown on Lifetime, will do with this quickly sinking ship.

I may, at that point, stop watching, though it seems doubtful. I am clearly as much a pawn of the show's format as the next person, as evident by the fact that despite my lack of televising, despite the fact that I don't even like watching TV and would rather be reading, I still tune into Project Runway--from another country, no less. The truth is, that unless you have a copy of Vogue around, it is the closest thing to high fashion available in an easily accessible way (with Sex and the City as the most notable exception). And if one is disposed, as if by genetics, to yearn for the obscenities, the raptures, the spectacle, the camp of high fashion--as many people clearly are, and I myself am--then perhaps Project Runway is going to continue to satisfy less and less. If one simply wants to watch a bitchy designer we all hate taken to task, episode after episode, then I have no doubt Project Runway will only climb to higher realms of satisfaction.