If there is some blessing in the reality show Project Accessory, is that my the end of the season, I should probably be proficient in spelling it. Why do my fingers want to fly immediately to the "s" after the first letter? Why, why? Am I the only one? Couldn't they name the show something easier, like "Project Bling" or "Project Flair?" Even though the name is terrible, the show has perfected the art of getting the cast in the first scene to look like you've just told them to eat puppies.
Apparently, all you have to do is show them a cat suit. A hot pink one. Then tell them to make some accessories for it to make it look like a neon one-piece is something that someone can wear in real life. Clearly, none of them have happened upon a tranny running across 3rd Street and Fillmore at 7:30 in the morning on their way to work like I have.
The challenge, honestly, is not that big of a deal. They can make anything for it, so I'm not sure why everyone is freaking out, but they are. People are getting all worked up about the colors available, purple, hot pink, black, and what looks to be white or light blue.
Seriously, I think to myself, who cares what color the cat suit is? It's an item of vulgarity, and there's no winning, with a codpiece or without, and a camel-toe on a model looks just as obscene as a camel-toe on someone ....who's not a model, shall we say. I'm not the only one to lock onto that aspect of the cat suit, and unfortunately, it's Nicolina "Kray-Kray" Royale who also voices her opinion of the danger involved here.
She scoffs when David, the guy who almost took a hike last week with his Goddess shoes, says he doesn't know what camel-toe is, and that (I'm paraphrasing) "he doesn't pay attention to dirty stuff like that" when Nicolina can hold it in no longer and blurts it out. It's worth noting here that David never, ever seen without his messenger bag slung over his shoulder. I'm not sure if the messenger bag is an identity thing like Edith Head's glasses, but it just looks like he's a second away from pulling pork fried rice or a subpoena out of it.
Sadly, he got stuck with a pink bodysuit for reasons that don't matter. He's upset and says that the only thing he can think of is Barbie. In Aspen. You can just hear the audience sigh for him.
Nicolina, at the next table from David, has developed something that I like to call the Pinot Grigio lisp. Ramona Singer invented it on Real Housewives of New York, and it involves the apparent numbing of the tongue to such and extent that all "s" sounds become laterally slaughtered.
"I wanna create a belt with fringe running between her legsh," Nicolina explains. "I'm good to hold together a classhy look for thish monshtroshity thing we have going on. I found an amazing piece of croc," (which is not what I thought she said the first time, but whatever.) "It's black aweshomenesh. I'm here to show the judgesh that I'm not a one trick pony."
Then she also mentions the word "bodyshoot" in reference to the body suit.
David is sort of growing on me. He doesn't partake in chitty chat of the work room and spends most of his time looking at his dress dummy with his hand on his chin, then adjusting a piece of fur a quarter of an inch. I especially feel for him when I see what he's planning. It's a pair of boots that looks a lot like Foxy, the dog our neighbors had when I was a kid. It's quietly horrifying, and I'm half hoping Nicolina will look up, open her Kray Kray mouth and yell, "Oh my god! That's Foxy's tail!"
Even Eva, the mentor, has issues with the look and expresses it with the lower two-thirds of her face, which involved the flaring of a nostril and slight lip movement. It's at this point that I start to notice that many of the women on this show have frozen faces, even the younger ones.
Then Eva announces the shocker! Two contestants will be sent home, not just one, and heads go into hands. Eyes dart. Brows -- those that can -- furrow.
"It'sh a shick, shick pershone who came up with thish challengsh," Nicolina confides. And in approximately ten minutes, she will start referring to herself in third person.
Christina, a blonde who has milling about in the background, has made an insane Gloria Swanson/snakecharmer turban. The last time I saw one like that it was on stage at Priscilla, Queen of the Desert.
I hear someone screaming, "Oh my God. Oh my God!" and it takes a moment to realize it's me, and that I need to form a prayer chain without delay so that his doesn't happen to greater society. Turbans. TURBANS. I thought for a moment that if someone ran for political office on an anti-turban message, they'd probably win, but Arizona has already proved that multiple times.
Anyway, as horrible as the turban may be, it's nothing compared to Nicolina's croc fringe, and it turns out that I don't think I misheard her the first time after all. It really is a series of long, black strings hanging from the crotch.
"I really think I should keep going as Nicolina Royale and figure this out," she informs us as Nicolina Royale, or perhaps, someone else. Nicolina Supreme. Nicolina Value Meal.
On the runway, Christina explains her turban as "Effortless chic. It's who I'd like to be on Hall"--and you know she's going to say "Halloween," you just know it--but instead, rounds it out with "halwahdaaay," which I really wasn't expecting unless she was cutting provolone in a New Jersey deli and explaining why they were closed on Christmas, "becawse itza halwahdaaay." Doesn't matter. She is lauded with compliments as Molly Sims calls it "fashion forward."
At first, it's a terrifying statement, but then she reinforces my faith in her when she takes one look at Nicolina and says, "The belt I don't understand. It's like a really long string." More like the one in cheese, Molly. Not theory. But it's Kelly Osbourne, Style Icon, may I inform you, who says what everyone is thinking, and it's not about the camel-toe.
"As a woman, I would never want a string between my legs," Kelly says. "Because the first thing I think of is tampons."
Social Activist Kenneth Cole looks uncomfortable, but frankly, he has other fish to fry. David's Foxy boots have produced a sour look on Cole's face, and I'm thinking he had a neighbor with a similar dog during his childhood. Molly Sims jumps right in, wondering who David is dressing. "Where is she going? Who is she?" Based on David's incoherent Goddess speech last week, about the stars and colors, and Nasa and stuff, it's in his best interest to shut up. Just shut up and shrug.
Because, really,can it be worse when he says, "Her name is Kristin (he doesn't specify I or e spelling, and I hate a girl with the "e" spelling, so we'll go with the former). She lives in Aspen. And I tried to accentuate the color of this leather. So it's old world wealth. I finished up with leg warmers. I think of Colorado as that 'free to do what you want' place." With rough edged hides--tied around to legs as, technically, I suppose, "warmers," she's not Kristin, she's Otzi and she's been trapped under a glacier in the Italian Alps for 5,000 years.
David's got his messenger bag on him again. What, honestly, is in there? A baby chick? A Kennth Cole, Social Activist, porn tape? A baby? If there's any magic in there, now's the time to pull it out and sprinkle some. Or serve someone with court papers. But apparently, some swami magic was going ton, because Christina and her turban wins. For real. I'm not lying. And David, no surprise, is heading home. With his messenger bag. And when the judges, announce the other departing contestant, I want to cry. It's Nicolina Royale and her croc crotch belt. I weep. I scream. This can't be, I beg Molly Sims. I need more third person! We were just opening the Nicolina Multiple Personality Envelope!
I feel cheated, betrayed and I have to agree with one thing. It'sh a shick, shick pershone who came up with thish challengsh.
Author Laurie Notaro's on a mission to make it through the first season of Project Accessory on Lifetime. Read more of her episode recaps below:
