TV Review: 24 Hour Catwalk

Did you ever watch this show "24 Hour Catwalk" on Lifetime? It's the worst. I'm pretty sure I'm the only person who has seen it besides the moms of the "designers" on it.

The "concept" is that four fashion designers of dubious talent are thrown into a warehouse with the most ridiculous materials on the planet (a terry cloth bathrobe! a diaper! a snake!) and told to create ugly and stupid clothes out of them that are usually at odds with the fabric (make a sexy bathing suit out of a down comforter!).

After like 3 minutes, a gaggle of judges takes a look at their hideous creations and boots off two of the designers who "do not meet our standards." I'm not sure what kind of standards they have - they're judges on "24 Hour Catwalk." The only one I've ever heard of is Cynthia Rowley, who hasn't eaten solids since 1992. She usually likes the fugliest stuff. There is also Alexa, some other weeenie with a neck beard and a nerdy guy who told me he's trying for a "Simon Cowell meets Alton Brown" thing: being a jerk, minus the manboobs, plus a bowtie.

After the initial beat downs/cutting of the fat, the remaining 2 designers are tasked with creating "an entire collection" (3 pieces) in 24 HOURS!! Don't worry, though, they have a team of sassy sewers to help them, including the incredibly named JustRaymona, who is a drag queen. Right? I'm sorry if she's not. If she is, then congratulations to her on being relatively demure and understated. The sewing teams give lip to the designers, who get super frazzled before shoving their polyester wares on some cut rate models and having a "real, live fashion show". The winner gets 10,000 smackers.

The real sadness here is when "24 Hour Catwalk" is the only viable option of what to watch on Comcast's Video on Demand. Why isn't "Locked Up Abroad" on there?!?! I would watch the hell out of that. This is just sad, unphotogenic "Project Runway" rejects forced to work under even more ridiculous circumstances with cheaper fabrics.

Haute Kid-ture

A Facebook friend who likes to keep me angry recently sent me this article about upper crusty fashion houses releasing clothing lines for small children. So the good news is, if you have like 600 bucks to drop on some stupid t-shirt with a Swarovski crystal skull on it for your three year old, you're in luck. Basically, if you're into forcing your kid to look like one of of Gwen Stefani's offspring, you're good to go. (On a related note, WHO DOES THIS TO THEIR 5 YEAR OLD? I hate you, Gwen Stefani.)

If you've got money to burn and time to kill shopping, then knock yourself out, I guess.

More disturbing than the immediate financial aspect is what kind of values dumbass parents are instilling in their progeny with this kind of thing. It reminded me of this post on STFU, Parents, a site that I visit when I want a laugh. In short, some mom's got her kids all outfitted up in "Jordans", Coach sunglasses (??!!), Dooney and Bourke bags, etc. so much so that they actually DEMAND these items by name and reject lesser impostors. Her kids are 7 and 2. Ugh. Way to perpetuate the mindless consumerist culture that's running us all into the ground. Also, newsflash: labeling them "divas" just because they like "the finer things" doesn't make this cute - it just makes it grosser.

Visiting STFU, Parents always starts out good (the Mommyjacking threads are pretty awesome), but it ends up depressing. You start thinking, "Why are morons having children? STOP IT."

I say, let's put something in the water that makes everyone sterile, and then if you want to have a kid, we'll give you a basic skills test and if you pass, BAM - antidote coming your way. I mean, you need a license to go fishing but not to have kids? Mind boggling. Of course, it opens up questions of who is writing this test and by what standards are people being judged, to which I say, "Me" and "Mine."

Nothin' But Their Jeans.

People need to stop doing stupid stuff to their kids in the name of fashion. Your kid does not exist as your opportunity to show the world how cool you think you are, OK?

Case in point - the skinny jeans for toddlers phenom that someone recently clued me in to. Where do I even start with this? First of all, what? This whole "jeggings" (jeans + leggings = jeggings) thing has been done. Except in the late '80s and early '90s, they were acid washed and called "stretch jeans" and if they were formal, they included zippers and little denim bows at the ankle. They took awhile to pull on, and were the preferred costume of those who aspired to be groupies for Britny Fox. But at no time were they made in size 2T, as they are today.

What is the point of putting your kid in these, other than to announce to the world that you're a tool who likes to torture toddlers? These things are a pain in the rear to put on a full-sized human, so forget about wrestling with a kid with limited motor skills and who is sporting an apple bottom courtesy of Huggies. I'm glad your vegan baby has a slim physique, but we don't need to see it swaddled in spandex.

Newsflash: your kid is a kid, not a short adult. So dress the kid as a kid, why don't you? Your baby does not dig the Arcade Fire, so stop trying to hook up the baby jeggings ("bajegs"?) with your hipster onesie. It's annoying. There's plenty of time for your child to WANT to wear dumb clothes and have a stupid haircut - he doesn't need you giving him a mohawk at age 2. DO YOU HEAR ME, GWEN STEFANI?

Let the freakin' kid be a kid. She's going to be judged as being cool or uncool by her looks soon enough: why accelerate the process?

Tippie Toe.

Remember that whole Ted Danson/Whoopi Goldberg conflagration? Like, what was that? They got together whilst filming edgy, topical comedy "Made in America" during which Whoops visits Ye Olde Sperm Bank and gets implanted with Sam Malone's fluids. Next thing you know, they're dating in real life and he's donning blackface at the Friar's Club in a misguided attempt to be his generation's Al Jolson (not to be confused with this guy).

Evidently, movie sets lead to strange bedfellows: Billy Bob and Angelina, anyone? Those were the days: those two sittin' around, swappin' blood vials and eatin' only orange foods. Then there was Brad Pitt and Juliette Lewis. Um... what? Slightly less weird was the Uma Thurman/Gary "Sid Vicious" Oldman connection. Homegirls were hitched when Uma was only 20 years old and Gary had not yet made cinematic history with his pivotal role in the cinematic classic, Tiptoes.

Are you aware of this film? If not, you should familiarize yourself with it, stat. It features Matthew McConaughey and Gary Oldman as twins. Not only are they visibly like 20 years apart in age, but Gary makes a brave choice here and plays a midget. Matt's midget twin brother. Walking around on his knees, not unlike Dorf. It's all quite extraordinary. Thrown in for good measure is a cornrowed Patsy Arquette, Kate Beckinsale and real-life midget Peter Dinklage. He also makes a brave choice by playing a Frenchman with what might be the worst fake French accent since that guy who called Sarah Palin pretending to be the King of France. I hope I'm not giving anything away, here. It's really a must-see.

Cry & Cut.

In the grand tradition of formerly comedic television actresses who now weep on commercials featuring starving children, I bring you Laurie Metcalf:



Remember when she was funny as Jackie on 'Roseanne'? Yeah, not anymore. Is the intent here to make me want to help this poor kid or punch her in the face? Because I'm leaning toward the latter. Pull yourself together. Starving children doesn't call for smiles, but would it kill you to stop sobbing and maybe put on some blush while you're at it? Sally Struthers made the effort - you should, too.

And if you think that's bad, check out the photo on her Wikipedia page. WTF is going on there? For real. She was 53 when this picture was taken, not 83 as her hair would lead you to believe. Why would you go into a salon and get the "Queen Elizabeth"? It's a hot mess, minus the hot.

Carrie Sadshaw.

When you're getting limited-time-only, free HBO, sometimes you feel obligated to watch it. Even if the only thing on is this Sex in the City movie.

First of all, what the hell is the name of it? "Sex AND the city" or "IN the City"? It doesn't really matter because it sucks for many reasons. Not the least of which is this hideous Carrie Bradshaw character. Like, hideous. Personality-wise and aesthetically speaking. Listen, I'm all for unconventional beauty, and I loved SJP in Square Pegs, but I'm drawing the line here. And it's not helping that they're putting her in the world's most ridiculous outfits. I'm all for sartorial commentary, too, but come on. ENOUGH, ALREADY. Hooking up pajama bottoms, pearls, a t-shirt, stiletto ankle boots, a fur and a SPANGLED BEANIE? You lost me at the pearls.

Even more infuriating is the fact that this character is like, a loser. I'm sorry. It's true. Running after that creepy "Big" dude with the Count Chocula eyebrows and then being ecstatically happy with the pathetic scraps of attention he throws her way every now and again? GAG. The best part of the movie [SPOILER ALERT] is when she plans some cockamamie wedding that involves her wearing some dress that is like 150 sizes too big in the boobs and he leaves at the altar. YES! But then he wins her scrawny ass back by being too lazy to actually write her a love letter and just ripping off some famous ones from history, then sending them to her via EMAIL (!) with some lame ass note like, "Sorry I screwed up." And she's like, "He really does care." WHAT?! Because he sent a freakin' email containing plagiarized material?

I can't take it. Who am I supposed to relate to, here? What am I missing?

Umbrella-ella-ella.

As if it's not bad enough trying to dodge becoming a cyclops via an errant umbrella spoke in the eyeball during a downpour, now chumps are using umbrellas to protect themselves from the sun. I place the blame for this alarming trend firmly on Jacko, who was fond of this type of nonsense.

Listen: if you're not sitting outdoors somewhere at a table with a hole in it or laying on a beach, there's no call for this type of behavior. And if you're going to insist on pulling a Morticia Aadams and strutting around with one of these damn parasols, how about not poking my eyes out while you protect your precious alabaster complexion?

Or better yet, put down the stupid umbrella, be normal and develop melanoma like the rest of us.

The Gary Busey Story.

What's up with Gary Busey? Is he rockin' a glass eye, or what?

I know he got all messed up when he broke his ass falling off a motorcycle back in '88 after freewheelin' down the highway. He wiped out. Girlfriend didn't have a helmet on and dented his head. So maybe that explains the eye, but that still leaves the Mystery of Busey's Teeth. They're real, right? Because why would you get fake teeth that look like that? "Give me the Mr. Ed." It just doesn't happen, not even in Buseyland. Plus, his son seems to have inherited that mouth. Have you seen him? This poor guy...it's not pretty.

You'd think people would take one look at Gary today and start wearing helmets like, ALL THE TIME, just as a precautionary measure against becoming Gary Busey. It's not nice to make fun of the cognitively impaired, but really, he seems like kind of a jerk. Not sure if this is a direct result of the noggin floggin' or if he was a jerk to begin with, but, there you go.

Wigging Out.

In the words of the immortal Nigel Tufnel, with certain things, sometimes it's "best [to] leave it...unsolved." Case in point: the mystery of Phil Spector's lid. The recently convicted murderer and music legend has treated us lo these past four years or so to an array of fantastic hairdos the likes of which have not been seen since a 1987 stroll through the Mall of America.

From the Bride of Frankenstein to the Carol Brady, his locks were seriously amazing, and I was happy to leave it at that. Maybe I fleetingly wondered how exactly the hairdos occurred: is there a warehouse in the wig district of some far-flung city filled with these exquisite follicular specimens? If so, can I visit it and is there a discount for buying in bulk?

Then, this happened:
...and suddenly, the party was over. We took a sharp left from what was simply an innocent visit to Crazytown and drove straight into the darkest corner of Beelzebub's basement. It's a look that is also seriously amazing, but in every wrong way possible. Hold me.

Wearing Out Things that Nobody Wears.

I'm going to go ahead and say that unless you're Keith Richards or a transvestite, if you're a dude over the age of 30, you should not be wearing eyeliner - or to use the egregious parlance of our times, "guyliner." It's untoward and it makes you look sad, as though clinging to a time when tight leather pants and bad brat-punk pop songs both actually fit you.

The same goes for flat-ironed hair on men. STOP IT (KEITH URBAN). Also, please unhand the frosting wand (if that is, in fact, how streaky, bold highlights are applied to the follicles). This means you, Steven Tyler.

Actually, each of these items applies to poor Steve, who is looking more and more each day like a cross between the old (female) receptionist at my office and a capuchin monkey (of indeterminate sex).

Crimes of Fashion.

As the immortal George Michael (the singer, not the "Arrested Development" character) once sang, "Sometimes the clothes do not make the man." But you know, sometimes they can make a big difference. Shouldn't dudes know the basics by now?

The following should be avoided:

1. Flip-flops: unless you're entering a Jeff Spicoli lookalike contest, there's no call for unleashing your hooves on the masses. Very few guys have tootsies appropriate for display outside of a sci-fi convention.

2. Jean shorts: why in the name of all that's holy do these still exist? Too short and you look like a low-rent version of the construction worker from the Village People. Too long, and you look like your legs are four inches long. Either way, an epic fail.

3. Trench coats with built-in capes: Is there a louder way to scream "nerd!" to the world than to wear such a thing? Yes, if you hook it up with a white turtleneck.

Capri-diculous.

Well, it's that time again: capri season is upon us. A time when those not bold enough to wear shorts and too sweaty to don regular pants decide to half-ass it by slapping on a pair of these aberrations.

WHAT ARE THESE THINGS? Also known as a clam digger, pedal pusher or cankle pants, capris merely serve to visually sever the leg at its most unattractive point: mid calf. Proportionately, the math is all wrong: hiding 2/3 of the leg and showing 1/3? It doesn't work. 98% of the time, the result is a stumpy looking leg with an awkward swath of flesh beneath. They either look like pants that are way too short or shorts that are way too long.

Why do they even make these things? What are they even achieving from a practical, non-fashion standpoint? Letting your ankles breathe? How hot are they getting? And now dudes are wearing them, causing the annoying "manpri" to be incorporated into our vocabulary. Thank goodness the related and horrifying gaucho pant uprising of 2005 was quelled fairly rapidly. When will this capri madness end?

Someone defend these things to me. Am I the only one not getting it?

Hell on Heels.

Here's a tip, ladies: No matter how cute the shoes, if you look like a mentally challenged dog on 'ludes walking on its hind legs while you're wearing them, it's going to ruin the effect. I've seen women on the stroll, obviously hoping to mix and mingle, sporting jacked up walks like this:

This kid does it better.