Pearls and scissors. Oy.

Austin Scarlet is inspirational. To someone.

"I was born Austin Scarlett. And I really feel that I've grown up to be that person. And if they don't get me, fine. I really feel that I was born to be a star in the creative world. I would just love to sort of set an example, for any dreamer, maybe not the most popular kid in school, or just anyone who's different, but who has a dream, to always stick to that dream, no matter how many times people tell you to walk a certain way, or talk a certain way, or act a certain way, dress a certain way, design a certain way. You can't listen to that, you have to be true to yourself. No matter what."

Austin Scarlett's good-bye speech on Project Runway a week ago (thank God I Tivoed it today, and was able to transcribe it) really touched me, so it should be put up somewhere. And here's where it's going. A little to the left. A little more. Perfect.

Austin went from being the snivelling queen who drove me CRAAAAAAZYYYY, to the martyr, who definitely should have been in the final three on Project Runway, only to have his chiffon and taffeta draped dreams smashed by that pinched-pussy'd Wendy Pepper. I mean look at her. With her mouth all screwed up, and her "skunk-stripe" hair, and her Church-Lady glasses. Wendy Pepper makes me nauseous, and I cannot believe she "made" it to the final three...way to go, Producers, like no one can see that that no talent hot n' cold case's success was due, in whole, to your "input" on who makes it into the next round. But I digress. I don't like Wendy Pepper, but that's another (outdated) post for another time. Everyone hates Wendy Pepper, and I'm going to need a moment to collect myself before I launch into that tirade...

Anyhoo - Back to Austin Scarlett, who Kara Saun correctly noted, should have been mincing foppishly roundabout 1787, dabbing at his snuff-packed nose with a lace handkerchief, engaging in catty "salon chat" over heavily-taxed tea wearing a Marie Antoinette pompadour, and taking care not to smile too brightly lest his wax foundation and lipstick crack.

I loved his tricorner hat today on the Reunion Special.

Okay, now I'm really going to talk about Austin Scarlett, who shows that I have terriffic (or TOTALLY gay) taste in clothing, when he sported that blue floral Ben Sherman shirt (oddly paired with a tie, but whatever floats your boat) that I have and love to wear. No. I do NOT have a crush on Austin. Sheesh. I just find him to be a compelling character, much like Jay McCarroll or that drunk Vanessa Riley. Back to Austin.

I hope some awkward little homo somewhere was watching when that episode ended. Someone with braces and zits, who got C's in math and wore Umbro shorts with Sebagos. (A DI-SASTER!) I hope whoever that poor, sad little boy is took Austin's words to heart, and realized that everyone else can "eat one," as I'm so fond of saying...usually about Justice Scalia when called upon to defend a point in class.

I hope that sad lil' homo realized that eventually everyone comes into their own, regardless of how long they're stuck an ugly duckling, or an awkward duckling, or a stupid duckling, or a featherless duckling, or a duckling that's no good at eating scum off the bottom of a pond - that one day, in some sense, that duckling will grow into a swan, or an egret, or a pelican, or a vulture, and that the duckling, despite its flaws (Swans, for example, are mute until they die, or at least, that's what Orlando Gibbons taught us in 1607 when he put "The Silver Swan, Who Living Has No Note, Till Death Approach'd, Unlock'd Her Silent Throat. Leaning Her Breast Against the Reedy Shore, Thus Sang Her First And Last And Sang No More. Farewell, All Joys! O Death, Come Close Mine Eyes! More Geese Than Swans Now Living, More Fools Than Wise!" to music.) has something great to offer the world. And when he gets the chance, and finds his greatness, to run with it, unapologetically, and to seize every opportunity that he is offered. And in Austin's case, it's the chance to design that chick's Oscar night gown.

Go on, Mary.