I am aghast. As I sit here at 11:16 p.m., the minutes piling up before I get to go to bed and try to forget the travesty that was tonight’s finale, I am at a loss as to what to say. Other than this: Project Runway has betrayed me. Nina and Michael have betrayed me. No, they’ve betrayed us, we the faithful Runway nuts who have stuck with the show through thick and thin, even when it went off the rails in L.A.
I’m heartbroken. Disillusioned. And no amount of Heidi arguing that “this was the toughest decision in Project Runway history” is going to make me feel any better. Heidi, you should have put on those boxing gloves and knocked some sense into your fellow judges.
Gretchen. Not Mondo. Gretchen. She’s the winner of Project Runway. No matter how many times I say it, it doesn’t sound any less wrong.
I could stew in this mystifying reality for the next three pages, but I’ll probably wake up the neighbors with my ANGRY LOUD YELLING TYPING. So lest I get kicked out of my co-op, let me take a breath, step back, and start at the beginning of this sh** show. If I can.
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