Happy Thursday. Let's Talk Human Hair.

Last night, Bravo, in its attempt to drag out the Project Runway finale, delaying and sustaining the final runway show like a Kama Sutra orgasm, aired the design-off between Chris March and Rami Kashou to decide who would join the two other finalists at NY Fashion Week. It was pretty dull, except Chris' collection showcased one special material: human hair. Tim Gunn put it best, "My gag reflex is kicking in." Mine too, Tim. Mine too.

Few things gross me out more than human hair (I specify human b/c frankly, if you've ever had a pet, you become accustomed to finding Rocko's mane everywhere. Just pick it out of your pasta and keep on). Human hair is different. Maybe because it's dead, or maybe b/c it is such a personal part of a person. When I find some foreign hair on my coat, a long yellow strand on my black lapel, I'm skeeved. Who is this blond lady, and why for the love of god was she so close to me that I am now carrying her along for my life-ride?

I know hair happens. Growing up, my sister had a monster mane that clogged our childhood shower. I know that hair falls out when you style it. My mom for instance, after a blowdry, her short dark curly hair scattered atop the bathroom counter did not look like head hair, people. And even I, with my short do, still leave stragglers deep in the drain, but AP tends to them because he loves me and because there's a very real possibility I would puke if not.

So, why would Chris March use hair? Because he wanted to lose. Good luck at the finals, Rami!