Project Runway

Hard to believe we've got a new season already, but here we are. This is the way Project Runway is supposed to be - in New York, in the Atlas Apartments, at Parsons, with Michael Kors and Nina Garcia, and with Heidi pregnant and drinking apple cider instead of champagne.

There are far too many designers to keep track of. The Chinese Chick is insane. I like The Gay One. OK, I'll get specific. I like The Black Gay One. More specific? Anthony. And this year's Girl Crush is neck-and-neck between The Alt-Porn-Looking Girl and The Iranian One. Seth Aaron is a douchebag with douche-hair and a douche-name. I might want him dead.

Guest Judge: Nicole Richie, who is my favorite Reformed Wacko Chick ever. Unless and until Lindsay gets her damn act together.

I was largely underwhelmed by the runway. There were too many to keep track of, but these were the worst: The Black Chick's looked like it was from the 1980s. The Chinese Chick just drapes fabric all over someone and calls it a dress. She's weird. A few people did stuff that looked like business-wear from the 80s and 90s. Ugh. Jesus's looked like a leather car seat. Anthony's wasn't very good either. Blah.

The only one that stood out as good was Emilio's. The only one.

Winner: Emilio. Well, that was a no-brainer. It was the only one that was good. Plus he put a lot of work into it.

Bye-bye: Christiane a/k/a The Black Chick. We hardly knew ye. Your dress was fugly. Bye bye.