Here’s what we don’t get.
Corky St. Clair here. We REALLY don’t get him. But that’s not our point.
Our point is, if you wanted to do a rock and roll-style challenge, why didn’t they just do “Dress My Husband, The Recording Artist known as Seal?” In a show dripping with product placement and cross-promotion, that one seems like a no-brainer. Granted, Seal’s not technically a rock singer but at least he’s stylish.
Nothing against The Sheepdogs (except maybe the name), but these aren’t guys who seem particularly interested in fashion. Or even stagewear, for that matter. Anything the designers did outside of henley collars and jeans was going to look wrong on these guys. So the designers, in a panic, somehow got it in their heads that “rock and roll” style was determined by Saturday morning cartoons in 1972. Every outfit was a combination of Shaggy and the Fat Albert Kids. You might have expected that from someone like Bert, but why were all these 20-somethings stuck on paisley and headbands and bell-bottom jeans? Why would you look at this band and determine that what they really want is to dress like the Brady Bunch? Sure, some of them mentioned Hendrix, but you’re supposed to update that look, not replicate it.
The real entertainment value was in watching a whispy, wifty, personality-less, inexperienced waif deal with the dirty, horrible loud world outside his conch shell, where people he doesn’t want to know speak to him and clothing doesn’t live as it should: forever on a dress form. Placed on a pedestal. A tall pedestal. Far away from dirty hands and the disgusting people who have the nerve to not have the proportions of a fashion illustration. Goodbye, Olivier, you precious, precious thing. The world of reality television was not for you. The world, period, for that matter. Go and be among your own kind, where blonde waifs built exactly like you are thrilled to wear your designs and stand perfectly still while doing so because clothing shouldn’t move once it’s put on.
We guess that would explain why you dressed your guy in a tablecloth. Because when anyone thinks “lead singer in a band,” toile is always going to be the first thing that pops up, amirite?
Ignoring the roses and swans and pretty little bows, why is this shirt so short? Why does it have no tailoring at all? He’s, to use Olivier’s oft-referenced term “big,” but he isn’t shapeless. He could have tailored that shirt to be a little more fitted and flattering. Then again, he obviously didn’t have enough time to give it cuffs, so tailoring was not an option for Olivier.
And the gigantic pockets were just odd.
The pants were not horrible. That’s about as much praise as we can muster. They seemed to fit fairly well. But the choice of white pants and a toile shirt with swans on it just doesn’t read “rock singer” in any way whatsoever. Had this been a “dress a flamboyant middle-aged florist” challenge, then Olivier would be taking a victory lap right now.
It was time for the precious little poser to go anyway, but this challenge was (pun unintended) practically tailor-made to highlight every one of his deficiencies. He’s terrible working with clients (constantly referring to his size disparagingly right in front of him and making him sit around for an hour in his underwear), terrible with time management, terrible with any challenge where minimalist clothes for ultra-skinny people rendered in shades of grey and beige aren’t going to work, terrible with finishing, and after the last two episodes, just all-around terrible. This boy needs dirty sex with a fat, sweaty trucker to slap him out of his bubble. Go make that happen, Olivier. You’ll be a better designer for it.
And congratulations to Viktor! Your outfit was the least horrible out of all of them! Hooray!
Dude. We REALLY hope you got something out of this. A recording contract, a groupie, some coke- whatever.
All things considered (fringe), he did manage to make a pleather fringe jacket that looked a little unique. We’ll give him that. The braiding made it work.
But we’re of the opinion that if you can’t use leather for what really should be a leather jacket, then don’t. Because the vinyl looked crappy and every hem and edge looked unfinished.
We did like the shirt. It was the only thing on him that looked remotely modern. As always with the menswear challenge, we have to deal with the Horror of the Collapsing Placket and Limp Collar, which always sets off one nerve in our eyelids.
And while the jeans were fitted pretty well, that was pure Sears Tuffskins material he was using. It’s bad enough you put him in a pleather fringe jacket, Viktor. Did you have to give him Sears jeans on top of it?
We’re being a little mean, we know. But there’s been way to much “Yours is the least worst! Congratulations!” this season. Sure, Viktor deserved the win, but can you honestly say there’s a vast difference between this look and Olivier’s? They both look unfinished and cheap and they both represent a very odd, very dated view of rock band stagewear.
We’re glad Viktor got the win because he hasn’t been getting enough recognition for his consistently good work, and it’s nice that he got to style his Sheepdog for a photo shoot.
But we think it’s kind of hilarious how much he stands out in the picture. He’s the kid at school whose mom still picks out his clothes.