Friday, July 31, 2009

Gone beachin'

Early tomorrow morning I will hop a train to New London and board a ferry bound for Block Island, Rhode Island (aka "Little Rhody"), my family's home away from home.

I will not be blogging for the next week, as I have a hammock to lie in, sunsets to watch, clams to eat, books to read, and beaches to explore. But after this much-needed break I hope I will be rejuvenated and rarin' to post. (BTW, this month is the second-most bloggingest month I've had in The Sassy Curmudgeon's history, bested only by Sept. '08 and my unstoppable pre-election ranting).

Thanks, as always, for reading. See you August 10!


Wednesday, July 29, 2009

Showering with Cary Grant

As part of the home improvement effort this weekend, Jeff bought a shower curtain covered in pictures of old movie stars.

Today, when I took a shower, I realized Cary Grant was staring at me creepily.


I Still Ate It

Some friends have just started a blog, I Still Ate It. As you can tell immediately, this is a blog after my own heart. I will be contributing regularly, but can also post YOUR stories. Hit me up at

Who Thinks I Have a Giant Vagina?

For some reason, I received free maxi pads in the mail yesterday. And although I haven't worn a pad since approximately 1994, I was excited, because free swag is always fun.

That is.. until I opened the package to reveal THE BIGGEST PAD I HAVE EVER SEEN.

Seriously, this is more than the size of my head... It looks like I could strap a baby on that thing and carry it like a papoose.

I could wear it as a shin guard for soccer...


Tuesday, July 28, 2009

A Word on America's Got Talent

I have startlingly low standards for television. I squeal with glee upon discovering that Wipeout and I Survived a Japanese Game Show are on back to back (the only better pair-up is I Didn't Know I Was Pregnant followed by Toddlers & Tiaras. Trust.). But even I must take umbrage at the number of people each week who watch America's Got Talent. I'm going to go on the record here and say that America's Got Talent is not a good show.

The main reason for this, of course, is that any talent America has is off trying to get a spot on American Idol or So You Think You Can Dance. So as far as singers and dancers go, AGT is already sub-par. And then, of course, there are the other "talents." Like playing the banjo or juggling brooms. Ordinarily I would preface this next statement with the words "no offense," but we're talking about people who have willfully put themselves up for judgment by Sharon Osbourne and David Hasselhoff, two celebrities in the loosest sense of the word whose sole thread of commonality seems to be that they have been very drunk on camera, so I'm going to go ahead and let offense be taken. So here it is: if people wanted to watch your obscure talent on TV, there would be an America's Next Top Flautist or So You Think You Can Fence. If the noun or verb that describes your life's ambition is not already part of a reality show, you don't have an audience. And if I sound bitter, yes, it's because Bravo has not returned my calls pitching The Real Bloggers of New York City.


How Do Facebook Ads See Into My Innermost Soul?


Monday, July 27, 2009

Sunday Funday: Scans of the Past

So as I mentioned, Jeff and I spent the weekend doing a major cleaning on our apartment. Seriously, it was intense, like the kind of fast-motion shit you see on Clean House or Extreme Makeover: Home Edition. I haven't done that kind of aerobic cleaning since I lived with a bunch of boys after college who invented a method of tidying the apartment called "the Stairway Clean," in which we would put on "Stairway to Heaven" and clean maniacally until it was over. It was quick, but in order to finish in time we would mostly throw things away, like dirty dishes.

Anyway, one of the things I love the most about cleaning (and I love A LOT about cleaning because I am Type A all the way) is the stuff you uncover while you're sorting through your mess.

Behold, some gems:

1. "This Is Not An Ordinary Day!", 2003

I made this collage while working a mind-numbing job as a receptionist. Most of the cut-out pieces are from my terrible "uplifting" desk calendar.

2. Pre-school Class Photo, 1983-4

Unbeknownst to many of his fans, John Travolta took a break from acting after Saturday Night Fever to teach pre-school at the Emanuel Midtown—I'm sorry, MDItown, according to the sign—Y (see upper left). I am top row, far right, wearing velveteen, standing between two more awesomely dressed, albeit less famous, teachers.

3. Un-PC birthday letter, 2005

This pretty much sums up our entire relationship. Gilberrrrrrrt!

4. Most awesome birthday card ever, 2007

5. Proof that at one time I was a maneater...

Who are all of the boys following? The little minx on the scooter with red sneaks and a badass 'tude, that's who.

6. Best photo ever

Me with my newborn sister, 1986.

7. Inexplicable long-distance communication
I sent this to Jeff when he was living in Cambridge, MA in 2004. Memory fails me as to what the words mean or why I am holding a can of soup.

8. Jeff's old headshot (awwww)

9. and 10. AMAZING Advent Calendar (had to be two parts b/c scanner isn't big enough).

I will never make anything better than that. I can quit now. (Enlarge to see pithy faux tabloid headlines, like "Frosty: Fatter than ever! Friends say his corncob pipe use out of control!")

Okay, must eat. That's all for now.

Tweet and Low Down (haha because it's UNDERGROUND! Get it?)

Oh, hilarity. NY State has created Twitter feeds for various subway lines.

I imagine their convos in my blog on The Huffington Post.

Weekend Update

Sorry, guys, the weekend just got away from me! I had many social engagements that kept me from my keyboard, not to mention that Jeff and I did some home improvement that involved a lot of rearranging of things and hanging of art and tossing of tchotchkes (don't worry, my Bartman action figure is still in a place of honor upon my desk).

I suggested to Jeff that I do a video or photo essay of our apartment like MTV Cribs, to which he just sort of shook his head sadly, but I'm totally going to do it this week. I also gathered a bunch of scan-worthy finds, including proof once and for all that Tony Manero was my preschool teacher at the Emmanuel Midtown Y.

Stay tuned!

Friday, July 24, 2009

M. Night Shayamalan Is Totally Kicking Himself Right Now

I KNOW Jeff doesn't want that fake S&M picture of him to be the first thing people see here, so even though I am feeling lazy I will post something.

I love it when friends suggest stuff to post on the blog. It actually doesn't happen too often, but when it does it's like someone else is doing the work for me (although, to be fair, most of the "work" of blogging is the actual wording, typing and careful insertion of snark and/or extended parenthetical asides like this one, which seem to be my M.O.). Anyway, my friend Betsy forwarded me an item from Gawker about the movie Orphan—the one that proves once and for all that all latchkey kids are evil and should never be adopted. The link completely spoils the movie's surprise ending, but you don't have to click on it because I'm about to re-spoil it. You have been warned.

So. The titular "orphan" the way, I just realized that titular should have a completely different meaning. It should be a more refined way of saying "boobalicious." Right? Anyway, the orphan turns out to be a 33 year-old midget (YES REALLY) who was a former prostitute. I don't know how this relates to her being evil, but damn. Gawker suggests that the movie should be called Secret Dwarf Hooker, which made me think of other short, snappy spoilerific names for famous twisty-ending movies.

For instance, Psycho could be Master Bates Wearing Mom's Clothes (heh heh). Or Seven could be Head in a Box, and it could have a song like "Dick in a Box." Or is that in poor taste?

Anyway, the moral of this post is do not take in middle-aged midget hookers who pose as orphans. But if they're straight up about then I guess it's OK.

Thursday, July 23, 2009

The Truth—and the Whip—Comes Out

An email I just received from Jeff's coworker:

Oh honey. No.

I Can be Your Hero, Baby: Enrique Iglesias’ Ballad for Gay Comics

This is kind of random, but I was asked to write a satirical piece on the subject of heroes for a non-work related project. Here's what sprang forth from my brain:


Most of us think of heroes—the people kind, not delicious Italian deli sandwiches—as role models. They save lives, they influence and inspire people, and a lot of times they can do badass tricks like shoot lasers out of their eyes. But it’s important to remember that sometimes a hero might not appear in the form of a tough guy. Sometimes he might just want to kiss away your pain and pump gas for Jennifer Love-Hewitt wearing a knit cap even though apparently it is hot enough not to wear a jacket. Heroes are funny that way.

I am speaking of course, of noted troubador and brooding, be-moled Spaniard Enrique Iglesias, who, even though he is famous for boning Anna Kournikova, apparently wrote his famous single “Hero” for a dude named Simon Baxendale, according to the world’s most trusted news source, Wikipedia. Did anyone else know this? It certainly calls into question lyrics such as “Would you tremble if I touched your lips?” Perhaps even more gay is the fact that in June 2007, Iglesias performed the track during a set at London gay club that was actually called G-A-Y.

With this information in mind, we can look at “Hero” not as a cheesy pop ballad intended to get high school sophomores to second base in the backseat of their mom’s Tercel, but rather as a tender anthem for all of the gay comic book characters who died terrible, gruesome deaths because of this country’s rampant homophobia. A short list in memoriam lifted from Perry Moore's website (imagine an Academy Awards-like montage and try not to cry):

Northstar, the first gay male hero to come out in the Marvel Comics Universe. Northstar is killed in three different realities and is later resurrected as a murderous zombie assassin.

Ice, lesbian member of DC’s superheroes Justice League International. Murdered. Last seen by her teammates in Hell.

Bloke, first openly gay member of Marvel’s X-Force/X-Statix. Killed on his first mission.

Karma, lesbian member of Marvel’s New Mutants. Possessed by villain The Shadow King. Kidnapped and disfigured. Reappeared as grossly obese, too fat to move on her own. [Ed note: the ladies here can all attest that this is a fate worse than death]

Captain Metropolis, the ultimate loser/wimp of the “Watchmen” graphic novel series. Revealed to have gay relationship with Hooded Justice. Later decapitated in car accident.

Thank you, Enrique, for defending the right to be out, proud, and illustrated.

Lunchtime Poll

I am in the terriblest, horriblest, no good very bad mood this week. Can I actually blame my generic birth control or is this just my personality?

(Sorry, this came out scarier than I intended. I look like McCain).

Tuesday, July 21, 2009

When Citizen Journalism Goes Bad

I have made fun before of how every time CNN posts about a violent crime there is an accompanying video link (seriously; see below).

But last night on the 11 o'clock news (Jeff came home and was like, 'You're watching the 11 o'clock news? What are you, 45?' And all of you 45 year-olds will be happy to know that I took great offense, because being educated is cool. The More You Know. Anyway...) I saw a video of neighbors saving a mom and her kids trapped in a burning SUV. And that's great and all, but it begs the question: What asshole was standing there filming it? (Answer in upper right corner).

I realize that some people who happened to be sightseeing downtown on Sept. 11, 2001 ended up with a lot of money from photos and video, but really, some self-reflection needs to happen if your first reaction to an accident (especially one close enough for you to provide aid) is to take out your camera.

Monday, July 20, 2009

Feelin' Dowdy

Voicemail from Dad on Sunday:

"I thought you'd be interested to know that your C Street story was picked up by Maureen Dowd and Gail Collins..."

Visions of insta-fame danced in my head... how had Maureen Dowd found my blog post? And what had she said about it? Had she linked to it? OMG OMG OMG...

...until I realized that he meant they mentioned the story, not my story. Their columns were simply on the same subject as my blog had been.

Foiled again! I'll get you yet, Dowd.

Friday, July 17, 2009

The Sassy Curmudgeon's Top Ten Summer Movies of All Time

Since 2009 is shaping up to be The Year Without Summer, or, alternately, the Year the Rains Came, I've been hankering to settle in during what's become the standard Saturday thunderstorm with some classic summer flicks. Won't you join me in watching....

The Sassy Curmudgeon's Top Ten Summer Movies of All Time!

(...and by all time I mean all the time I've been alive, which is relative, but true for me.)

10. Summer School

First of all, DO NOT HATE on Mark Harmon, because he is dreamy. If I ran Hollywood he would be another Harrison Ford (just imagine him playing the lead in Regarding Henry!) This is an underrated gem of ’80s cheeseball romance, with bonus points for making good use of Courtney Thorne-Smith, my favorite Melrose Place actress. And seriously, Harmon = hawt.

9. Caddyshack

I love me some Chevy Chase (see #1). Always have, always will. And the only SNL player-turned movie star I love equally to Chevy (although do not want to sleep with) is Bill Murray. This classic has both, plus a wily gopher and Rodney Dangerfield!

8. One Crazy Summer

John Cusack at his geek idol prime in a zany summer romp by Savage Steve Holland (who also collaborated with Cute-sack ...that sounds wrong, but I’m sticking with it... on Better Off Dead, one of the all-time great ’80s movies). Also stars Demi Moore when she was actually in her early twenties instead of just looking that way, the cute roly poly dude that plays Rumsfeld on Mad Men, but who I remember from a short-lived early ’90s comedy set in a bar and starring Susan Dey (anyone?)... and, as if you needed another reason to Netflix this, Bobcat Goldthwait.

7. Wet Hot American Summer

Christopher Meloni as a sadistic cook in short shorts. The comedians behind The State. Janeane Garofolo and David Hyde Pierce as dorktastic lovers. This new American classic is best enjoyed with a big group of friends and a bucket of beer.

6. Dazed & Confused

The movie that launched Matthew McConaughey before anyone realized he was just playing himself, and the last film to star the cuter London twin, i.e. not the one from Seventh Heaven, Richard Linklater’s coming of age masterpiece is both a very good movie and a carefree summer fling. The supporting cast (including Parker Posey, Anthony Rapp, and Ben Affleck) rocks the fucking house.

5. Jaws*

I think of Jaws often, usually while I am in the ocean swimming, without a care in the world, and then I remember that AHHHH WHAT’S THAT ON MY LEG? Oh, just a piece of seaweed. Anyway, Jaws is the perfect movie to watch if you have to work all summer and can’t go to the beach. Who wants to get their legs chewed off anyway? Lame. Also Dreyfuss looks a lot better here than in Stand By Me, and Roy Schedier is the man.

*Jaws came out five years before my birth, so not technically "of my time". But this is my blog and I'll break my own rules if I want to.

4. Dirty Dancing

Of course. I mean, really. It’s a classic for a reason. However, there was no reason to make the sequel, Havana Nights, nor was there a reason for Baby to butcher her face to the point where she is unrecognizable. If you have forgotten how awesome this movie is, please see it now before Patrick Swayze dies and it becomes even more depressing.

Since I've brought up Johnny Castle's imminent demise, let's lighten the mood. You know the iconic lift scene?

Here's what happens when I am drunk and "(I've Had) The Time of My Life" gets played at a wedding:

(No, that's not my husband. And yes, he's kind of touching my boob. But I know him, so it's okay.)

3. Stand By Me

Gordie! All of my friends swooned over River Phoenix, but my undying love was always sworn to Gordie, which makes even more sense now that I am married to someone who is very Gordie-esque (see below). This funny, sad, sweet film gets me every time, especially because Gordie’s dead brother is none other than Cute-sack, who should never, ever die under any circumstances, but then right as I get all teary I remember that Gordie grows up to become Richard Dreyfuss and I get angry at the casting director. (Maybe Vern could become Dreyfuss. But Gordie? Please. Gordie would have been so much hotter).

(Note: Jeff is 29 now; I am not Mary Kay Letourneau)

2. Do The Right Thing

Coming from Brooklyn like I do, this seems more like a documentary than a work of fiction. Aside from being an important film for its time, Do The Right Thing is so an incredibly vibrant, smart, funny, and moving that it makes me want to be nine years old again, playing in the fire hydrant on a blazing hot day and listening in on neighbors’ conversations. I’ll take a slice of Sal’s Famous pizza, too, but I’ll leave the race wars... and the unibrow.

1. National Lampoon’s European Vacation

Purists believe that the best offering in the Vacation series is the 1983 original, but I have always preferred the second installment, made in 1985, which finds Clark Griswold and family hopping across Europe and offending many different cultures. I especially love the chubby, sex-starved, Afro’ed Audrey played by Dana Hill and the geeky, disaffected Rusty played by one-hit wonder Jason Lively (fun fact: he’s the brother of Blake Lively from Gossip Girl). Directed by Amy Heckerling from a script by John Hughes, I think this sequel is downright Godfather II-esque, and no, God did not just smite me, so you know it’s true.

Have a great weekend, kids! (And seriously, show up at my door with one of these and a six pack and it is so on.)

Thursday, July 16, 2009

Friends of Maddie

Despite what my bitching may lead you to believe, I do have a heart buried under all of my vitriol, and a pretty soft one at that.

In April, I was saddened to hear that a friend of my best friend from high school had lost his seventeen month-old niece, who had been born prematurely and, as a result of scarring in her lungs, had succumbed to a sudden, fatal respiratory infection. I did some cursory internet research and found that his sister had a blog on which she had charted every bit of Maddie's life, from conception to her time in the NICU to her joyous homecoming and the subsequent year she spent on the planet, approximately 99% of the time with a huge, infectious grin on her elfin face. She has been blogging since Maddie's passing, too—heartwrenchingly honest accounts of how she and her husband are coping with their tragedy.

It wasn't hard to be moved by the life and death of this tiny miracle child who against all the odds she faced in her first few months seemed poised to grow into a strong and vibrant woman. I found myself checking Heather's blog every day, looking through her Flickr albums, and finding myself often near tears thinking about her pain, even though I've never met her. Which is why I urge you to check out Friends of Maddie, a foundation set up in Maddie's honor which will provide NICU Family Support Packs to the nursing staff of Level III NICU’s across the country which will be distributed, at their discretion, to families of children being admitted to the NICU for long term care; assist in finding temporary lodging for families who live beyond commuting distance of the NICU that is treating their child; and create a network of former NICU families who are willing to provide counseling and more to families currently in the NICU.

I defy you not to become entranced by this little girl and her incredible parents.

Wednesday, July 15, 2009

More Fun With Google Alerts

Is someone alleging that I am a ho?

Them's fightin' words,!

Muppet Muffs and Other Phrases One Should Never Have to Use When Describing What One is Wearing

Read it on Popserious.

The Curious Case of the Swinton Pringles

I read this headline on Jezebel this morning and got excited.

SWINTON + PRINGLES? What an amazing mental image (which I brought to life with the magic of Photoshop).

(That could also be a can of commemorative David Bowie Pringles. SO marketable!)

Very sadly, this advertising match made on acid was not to be: apparently there is a fashion brand called Pringle of Scotland. But Swinton (or Pringles!), if you are reading this, please—PLEASE—think of the possibilities.

Tuesday, July 14, 2009


I have no willpower.


You Know You're In a Recession When...

Scene: Duane Reade, Flatbush Avenue, Sunday afternoon.

Pharmacy Guy: Uma Marche?
Me: (bristling) Whatever.
Pharmacy Guy: So... they just came out with a generic for your, uh, medication. [Ed note: birth control]. And your insurance will only cover the generic.
Me: Oh. Well....
Pharmacy Guy: It's only ten dollars.
Me: Woo hoo! Where do I sign?

So now I have this Ortho Tri-Cyclen Faux (not its real name, sadly, I should work in marketing) that comes in a weird square package and is probably made of sugar and food coloring. But I'll be saving $240 a year!

Friday, July 10, 2009

Handicapping Project Runway Season 6

Lifetime has posted photos and videos of the season 6 contestants for Project Runway! (Okay, they had them up awhile ago, but I got detained by vacation). And because I am committed to being a good recapper this year, I am starting early at handicapping their chances. There is a ridiculous amount of video online here if you want to watch it, but I already did, so you don't have to. (FYI my "first impressions" were recorded before I watched any video, so are based solely on the photos you see here):

First impression: If Delta Burke, Dixie Carter, Jean Smart and Annie Potts had a baby….without the aid of Anthony.
Annoyance level: Low. Althea is bubbly and cute without being too ditzy and seems pretty self-aware.
Style: S&M Barbie. A lot of leather, but not Stella leatha. More like Forever 21 faux leather.

First impression: Why is Samantha Ronson on this show? Shouldn’t she be DJing or filing restraining orders against LiLo?
Annoyance level: Low. She reminds me of basically every person that went to Wesleyan, my alma mater: artsy, smart, probably bi. You’d want to have dinner with her, but at a restaurant, not at her house. She’d make you eat spelt pasta and probably wouldn’t serve booze.
Style: LL Bean Couture. Everything is reversible with this girl. Her life’s dream is to make "a jacket that turns into a backpack that turns into a tent." Direct quote.

First impression: Never trust a girl with two first names.
Annoyance level: Medium. Has a tendency towards sorority girl inflections, not terribly articulate. Goes by “C.H.” Also, no points off for this, but video makes it look like she is homeless and lives out of her car.
Style: Structured and girly. Pieces you’d immediately want to wear, but very mainstream.

First impression: Token straight guy.
Annoyance level: So low! Midwestern gay, exceedingly cute and witty. Shops at Walmart for fabrics, has partner named Ronnie with whom he collects adorable knickknacks.
Style: Pieces for young women with interesting details like inside-out pockets and fur. Not too daring but the recessionista vibe will win him points, as will his cute tee-shirts.

First impression: Be frightened of New Yorkers with one name.
Annoyance level: Very low. Has adorable family and is much less scary than his photo. Still goes by only one name, however, which is always annoying (but perhaps understandable since first name is Rodney?)
Style: High fashion. Had piece at Museum of the City of NY already; Tim Gunn and Laura from season 3 think he’s too good for the show. Gauntlet officially thrown down.

First impression: Best name ever. Am pronouncing it with a hard G no matter what. Take-no bullshit European.
Annoyance level: Low. From former Yugoslavia, lives in SC with two teenage children. Has boutique, obviously hardworking. Will be pissed when she is auf’ed in favor of a 24 year-old fashion school grad (Althea, Carol Hannah, I am looking at you).
Style: Very feminine pieces with a lot of detail.

First impression: Kim Kardashian. Is that racist?
Annoyance level: Medium. Has a poodle named Princess, which is an immediate black mark. Also uses the word “Oriental.” But seems capable, if a little JAP-y. Even though she’s from Republic of Georgia. Do they have Jews there? I think so, it’s a former part of the Soviet Union. I should have consulted Wikipedia before typing.
Style: Structured, feminine clothes, plus she makes hand-tooled leather handbags.

First impression: OK, no this is the token straight guy. Or the guy who lost the role of Turtle on Entourage to Jerry Ferrara.
Annoyance level: [First, DAMMIT, wrong again. Are there no straights on this show??] Realtively low. Very earnest, has tried out for show four times already, seems like a nice guy.
Style: Lattice-work detailing and punk-rock damask silk jackets. Pretty cool.

First impression: Asshatus Maximus
Annoyance level: High. I could barely watch his audition tape to the end because I had to fix my douchebag meter, which had exploded. Narcissistic, pretentious… Logan is, at least, a good foil for all of the relatively nice people we’ve seen so far. Think Santino but without the sense of humor. Ugh.
Style: Rocker chick, but retro and pretty. Although he did create an acid-wash denim puff skirt for his casting session. With elastic pockets.

First impression: Diablo Cody meets Janeane Garofalo’s character in Reality Bites, looks-wise. Let’s hope her personality matches.
Annoyance level: Medium-high. She’s quirky in a vaguely creepy way, like keeping tons of antique doll heads in her apartment. Her audition tape, which consisted of Louise awkwardly reading cue cards with her head sticking out of a homemade cutout, made me cringe.
Style: Vintage/retro (she loves the 17th century), but with her own couture twists. Based a really cool top (made of opera gloves!) on Winona Ryder’s Beetlejuice character.

First impression: Fresh out of Parsons, likely obnoxious (pensive hand on face pose = dead giveaway)
Annoyance level: Medium-high. Definitely believes he “deserves” to be on the show at 24, and lists his favorite designer as “Myself”. Is, however, well-spoken and cares a lot about social change and using fashion as a tool to reflect the changing culture.
Style: Loose, androgynous pieces (think slouchy hoodies and shapeless dresses). Very of-the-moment but not terribly memorable.

First impression: Dexter meets Emmet from Season 2. Either gentle giant …. Or psycho killer.
Annoyance level: Low. Neither gentle giant (he’s a charismatic Southern boy, like Kayne from season 3, but if Kayne were on Xanax and stopped dyeing his hair) nor psycho killer (fox-pelt rug notwithstanding), Mitchell is polite and well-groomed and the kind of boy you’d take home to Mom (but only if you also are a boy as Mitchell is gay as the day is long).
Style: Ethereal tops and dresses in neutral colors (he’s red/green colorblind). Interesting textures and great workmanship. So far Mitchell’s are the clothes I’d most want to wear.

First impression: John Hodgman with a very bad wig.
Annoyance level: Low verging on medium. He’s actually pretty likeable and charismatic, but definitely thinks highly of himself and his work (albeit with good reason: he’s had pieces featured in W magazine and does “featherwork” for Marchesa). Faint Euro accent (he’s Russian, and lived in London for years) could swing Nic either way on my annoyance meter. Only time will tell.
Style: Sequins! Sparkles! Feathers! It’s part old Hollywood glamour, part disco flash, and it’s really rather fabulous.

First impression: LOVE. HER. Look at that punim! Could you die?
Annoyance level: Low. She’s just what you’d think from her photo: Bubbly, down-to-Earth, easy to like.
Style: “Plus-sexy.” Qristyl has designed for Queen Latifah and tends towards colorful fabrics in classic shapes like A-line swing dresses and sheaths. Sadly I have a feeling that the plus-size specialty won’t serve her well, unless she gets a plus-size model.

First impression: Oh, black Clark Gable, you are fahhhhhbulous, darling.
Annoyance level: Low with a chance of medium. His throaty voice and flamboyant wardrobe make Ra’mon-Lawrence someone you want to watch. He seems poised to be Jerell-esque, only more fierce, but could turn out to be a dick. It's hard to tell.
Style: With the most range of the group (at least judging from what he showed during his casting), R-L can pull off everything from a simple white shirt to an evening gown with panache. He loves prints and embellishments, like dyes and texture treatments.

First impression: Looks too much like Irina. I know it will take me weeks to tell them apart. Shit.
Annoyance level: High. Uses air-quotes, wears tiny Peter Pan hats, brags about excelling “at this stage” in her career (she’s 24). If only she had a tugboat captain father and a bunch of tulle, she could give Kenley a run for her money.
Style: Cute multi-use pieces with crafty details, but at casting the judges commented that she wasn't pushing herself enough (I volunteer to push her ... off of something high).

FINAL ANALYSIS: With its cast of mostly adorable characters, along with the requisite d-bags thrown in for flavor, this season seems as promising as can be. All of the designers are incredibly skilled, and I for one am looking forward to the change of scenery that the LA setting will bring. I am going to recap this shit out of this show. Just watch.
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