Thursday, September 22, 2011

Tim Gunn, Hawaiian Jams, and Amateur Psychology

I am hopelessly addicted to Project Runway.  Hopelessly.

It's quite laughable, really, as my outfit of choice is usually jeans, t-shirt, flip-flops, and a ponytail.  Even Tim Gunn couldn't "make it work".  Still, I enjoy the hell out of it.  And Tim Gunn?  I want him to be my gay Yoda.  I like the bitchiness of Michael Kors, and I love the black t-shirt uniform.  But he cannot measure up to a man in a suit with a red and white gingham button-down shirt.  Ever.

The amateur psychologist in me says that my obsession might all stem from my first-ever failing grade in Home Economics.  Mrs. B, my teacher and StuCo advisor, pushed me to my very limits. Oh, bless her heart.  I do not understand how she dealt with my 15 year-old drama.  I started strong with a blue walrus pillow (which is still in my childhood bedroom, thank you), but the slow coast to Flunksville kicked off with an apron.  Oh, that mother-effin' apron.  Black and white toille with a black edging.  Damn you, edging.  Damn you.  By the time we moved on to a very happenin' set of jams, I was on red-alert nervous breakdown watch.  Seams?  Patterns?  That little wheelie, marking thing?  I have to cut the fabric so that the crazy yellow flowers match up?  POCKETS??   It kind of gives me the cold sweats to think about, and it's been 20 years.  I think I cried myself to sleep for a straight week.

In true fashion, however, my mom pulled out her sewing machine (What?  You have a sewing machine?), gave me a 10 minute tutorial, and TA-DAH, a slightly janky pair of Hawaiian print jams appeared.  No pockets, but I was just happy to survive.

(This is totally my mom, by the way.  Full of ninja-like skills that she has absolutely no interest in pursuing further.  *sigh*)

The fact that I was only slightly more adept at the cooking semester might be the birth place of my addiction to "Top Chef".  And the fact that I've never been within a hundred miles of any border might explain my dreams of competing on the "Amazing Race".  It doesn't seem like a good thing that all of my t.v. favorites just reality versions of all my past-life failures. 

Except "Hoarders".  Which is somehow a creepy flash forward fall-apart.  *shudder*

I have yet to diagnose my inordinate fear of Nina Garcia, however.  Maybe next week's episode.


  1. I can relate! I blew a cake up (army green color) in the oven at school. My partner and I had to scrub the oven. We were in total disgrace. Sewing was a challenge for me and the teacher also. I like to think it is because I think outside the box and am very creative. Which the truth of the matter is I don't follow instructions well and am slightly ADD or extremely ADD. Totally traumatizing.