Fashion Model: PR: The Thirty-Three Faces of Gretchen

"And then when I was four, I taught myself how to weave fabric..."

Poodles, that was easily one of the most entertaining runway trainwrecks we've ever had the pleasure to witness. We've said it before, but what makes for a truly memorable reality TV participant is the likelihood that they will inadvertently and completely unbeknownst to themselves accidentally reveal every single personality flaw they have in a naked and desperate attempt to stay in the game. It takes a special person to pivot on a dime while cameras are rolling. We salute you, Gretchen.

"Okay, so they hated your collection. You guys probably didn't see that coming. Well, you know what I think? I think you all should stand by your collection. I think you should all agree that you're all collectively responsible for this collection, right? Certainly there was no one person in charge, who went around telling everyone what to do and making almost every creative decision single-handedly, you guys. Haha! The idea! Certainly you can all agree to THAT."

"Sure."
"Absolutely."
"We can all agree to that, Gretchen."
"You always know what's best, Gretchen."
"Can I touch your hair, Gretchen?"

"In your group, who would like to tell us about your collection?"

"Uh, yeah. Listen, I would just like to take this opportunity and step forward to say that no one in our group took the opportunity to step forward and say anything. Everyone just went off and made clothes. We barely spoke to each other."

"That's true, Gretchen."

But um, when we ran into each other later in the hallway and saw what we all made, we were totally supportive of our COLLECTIVE decision-making process and agreed that no one was responsible. For anything. It just all happened. Like monkeys with typewriters, right? Writing Shakespeare?"

"She's right, you know."

"Which isn't to say the group doesn't LOVE this collection. Everyone poured their heart and soul into this collection."

"Just look at - put your hand down, Michael - just look at all of that collective love on display here. You should know that each one of these five other designers really tried their hardest to ensure that no one person's point of view was on display at all and they did that because these people LOVE each other."

"I want you judges to think of THAT. And ask yourself if you'll be able to look yourself in the mirror tomorrow morning - and every morning after that for the rest of your lives - knowing what you decided here today. These people fucked up royally, but they fucked up out of LOVE."

"Ohmigod, Gretchen. That's so beautiful!"

"What would we have done without you, Gretchen?"

"NOTHING DIFFERENT. At ALL. I mean that. I had no input on this collection whatsoever. Even though EVERYONE loved it."

"I'm confused. How can it be that you all made similar pieces, and yet you claim you all worked separately?"

"I don't know. All of the -- all of the Asian people on the team were in agreement that they loved the collection but that no one was responsible for it."

"And perhaps you're asking yourselves 'Well what about you, Gretchen? What were you doing?"

"Actually, I --"

"Advising. Trying to steer them away from their poor impulses and lack of taste. Teaching them all how to sew. It was killing me, because I knew that only I could see the mind-numbing disaster they were all making, but I barely had time to splash cold water on my face and do my affirmations, let alone take over and redesign an entire collection."

"Psst. Ivy. When did we ... ?"

"Okay, but if you knew things were going in the wrong direction, wh--"

"It was the drugs, to be honest. I'm not a judgmental person and I know that it's a sickness for these people, but frankly Nina, I feared for my life. They were doing so many drugs and there were so many sharp instruments around that I thought it best to quietly do as I was told and sew. I'm just glad I made it out alive."

"Whoa. Wait a minute..."

"I'm so ashamed!"

"Gretchen, I have no time for this horsesh--"

"They were so lost and so vulnerable. I just wanted to help them and I couldn't. It was only at the end when they saw how badly they'd screwed things up that they all made the admirable choice to hang together as a team."

"Disco Soccer Stripper! Mother of the Dubai! Vegas pole-dancing Golden Girls! Slutty, slutty, slutty!"

"For all their disappointing weaknesses and inevitable deficiencies, these 5 designers chose unity over discord, responsibility over blame. I salute them for that."

"Who was the weakest designer in your group?"

"Oh, Michael Costello. He sews like a blind monkey with 3 fingers on each hand."

*squeak*

"I remember I'd be in my corner, sewing whatever crazy thing they handed me to sew, and Michael would come up to me in a drug-induced stupor, drooling all over the fabric and asking me to help him with the most basic tasks. I can't really say I completed any outfit here on this runway because I was far too busy threading needles for Michael and wiping the spit off his face."

"He'd come stumbling over to me, his little legs trying so hard to navigate the workroom. 'Gwechn,' he'd slur. 'What's a button?' And my goodness, I was stuck for hours trying to show him the simplest of things. If anyone should go home tonight, it's Michael. Everything you see here is his fault."

"It's true. I totally remember that happening."

"That's not what I --"

"But it's not his fault, really. I blame the parents. And the educational system. At any rate, to sum it up, no one was in charge here, they all loved this collection and you should think very hard about what that means, everyone forced me to do their bidding, and Michael Costello barely has the motor skills to successfully piss on himself."