"$100,000! Drinks are on this brother."
And with that—well, with that and a Saturn commercial—the fifth season of
Project Runway ended: not with a bang, not with a whimper, but with the giddy faux-posturing of a mousey yet sometimes very sharp ("Kenley's line looks really Holly Hobby.") designer from Portland, Oregon. Leanne may be a bit of a granola, but she's granola with an edge, like granola with dried cranberries, or steel-cut oats, or salt, or something. So what if Leanne's collection was the least wearable (skirts made of large layers of petals, while architecturally interesting and aesthetically beautiful, are flattering to exactly no one)? And so what if it was a little one-note (turns out petals aren't so interesting if they're on almost everything that turns the corner)? The Project Runway judges haven't voted for a wearable collection since Chloe: The Invisible Winner in season two, and we all know how that turned out. And even though Leanne's collection was very one-note, it was an interesting note. All in all, Leanne's win makes sense.
Personally, though, I would have gone with Korto. Leanne's collection was intricate and beautiful and very structured. But she managed to make a very fresh detail—those stacked waves or petals—seem almost boring in the space of 10 looks. We get it Leanne, you like waves. Korto's collection, on the other hand, was vibrant and detailed and most of all varied. She took classic, sometimes boring shapes (like halters) and literally gave them a slant of her own to make them look fresh. Also her colors, that green especially, were bold without being loud (unlike, say, Kenley's screaming fuschias and teals). The judges called Korto's collection a little overworked, which was a nice way of saying, "Pleating details, much?" but all in all I thought the collection looked very measured.
Which leaves Kenley, who was the clear loser tonight, and not just because she made Tim Gunn raise his eyebrow in exasperation. (Well, she was the clear loser after Joe's and Suede's decoy collections—if you haven't checked them out, I highly recommend you do so right now. Apparently, Bravo only gave them $50 to split to create those collections. There's no other explanation for Suede's polyester November Rain wedding gown, or Joe's misguided cowgirl motif.) Watching Kenley's collection, I felt like her designs were yelling at me, and not just due to the ringing of her nasally whine in my ears. Her first look was like Gwen Stefani's version of a saloon girl costume, and it only got worse from there. In truth, the whole thing looked very costumey—which is often how vintage looks. Kenley thought she was putting her own spin on things by hand-painting fabric, or exaggerating shoulders, or putting a creepy roped-off tumor on the side of hideous pattern dress, but as it turns out her spin isn't enough to make something aesthetically pleasing or interesting. And sometimes, her spin isn't even her spin: it's Balenciaga's, or Alexander McQueen's.