The morning of the interview I was dismayed to find that I had nothing clean in my closet except for a pair of black jeans and an Old Navy t-shirt (which, at least, is better than the free shirt I got from Pop Chips proclaiming "Snackers do it between meals"). I hoped against hope that the finalists would not judge my garments as harshly as I have judged theirs for the past twelve weeks.
I'm sorry I said you looked like a middle-aged Rudy from Fat Albert, Emilio!
When I got to Sea Grill at the appointed time, I suddenly blanked on the name of the publicist who was meeting me there, so I probably gave the hostess the impression that English was not my first language. "Um, I'm meeting a group?" I asked, though it was not a question. "The... um... Project Runway?"
"Yes, they're already here," she said, and led me around a corner to a round table where Seth Aaron, Emilio, Mila and the publicist--Jennie, which I totally should have memorized using the Tommie Tutone song, damn!--were waiting.
Read the rest on HuffPo! And if you've forgotten how awkward I am interviewing celebrities, here is a humbling refresher.