It's his party; Goil will cry if he wants to

And frankly, I would cry too if it happened to me. Although it probably wouldn't, 'cause I'm a loud, overbearing sumbitch, but we're getting ahead of ourselves here.

He feels like Jan Brady. And he doesn't want to feel like Jan Brady. Andrea, Andrea, Andrea!

My potential adoptive father Todd Oldham greets the remaining six designers and tells them their challenge will occur practically where they're standing, on the grounds of the Pacific Design Center. They're to form two teams (grrrrrr...) of three designers; each team will prepare a 30-by-40-foot tent for a party celebrating a flavored booze. The space should appeal to all five senses, and the staff of Elle Decor will vote on which space they prefer.

Okay, how many more contestants do we have to lose before team challenges are totally off the menu? I've voiced my gripes about team challenges before, so we won't go over them again. I would, however, like to add that it's damn near impossible to figure out who did what in a team challenge, as ideas have a way of changing due to the influence of others. So not only is it less entertaining for me as an aesthetic afficionado, it's less clear for me as a discerning viewer. I guess it's more rewarding for folks who like to watch people snip at each other, but we have Flavor of Love and its spin-offs for that.

Speaking of people snipping at each other, Bad Team #1 is composed of Carisa, Michael and Matt. The mutual disdain between Carisa and Michael is already established, which means Matt will have his work cut out for him. Bad Team #2 doesn't seem bad at the outset; it has the three strongest designers on it (Andrea, Erik and Goil). But trust me, it'll get dysfunctional soon enough.

Sadly and inexplicably, Goil tells the camera how much he admires Andrea and how he thinks she's a better, more advanced version of himself. "Like, if I'm R2D2, she's R2D3, 4, 5." Oh, Goil. You couldn't be more wrong. You're the perfect version of yourself, and Andrea ain't all that.

The teams kibbutz and sketch and bicker and shop and ... see, what would really help me out as a viewer here is to see each team member's sketches or a CAD diagram or something to show me what they're planning and what their overall aesthetic is.

I can tell you this much: the carpenters ain't feelin' it. Not even a little bit.

So, there's hammering, and drama, and painting, and drama, and Michael trying to hire go-go dancers over the phone. No, really, he orders up a couple of go-go dancers, but requests that they be dressed tastefully in white with gold jewelry. What, like this? Or like this? Carisa -- quite rightly -- looks at Michael like he's insane, and he orders her away from him.

Michael, have the past challenges taught you nothing? You should not trust your instincts on matters of taste because your taste level is crap.

Goil, meanwhile, frets that his ideas aren't being heard by Andrea or Erik as the two of them talk right over him. He'll start to say something and then one of them will butt in as if he had never spoken. Being a polite person, Goil won't go the Donald Trump route and keep talking really loudly until the interrupter shuts up. Instead, he stops talking and gets annoyed. Which is slightly passive-aggressive, but I still hold Erik and Andrea responsible for behaving as if they don't have a third teammate.

So after a stressful day and a half, the tents are ready. Shall we see what the teams prepared? Here's the party space as designed by Carisa, Matt and Michael:

 

It's nothing terribly special, but it's clean and tasteful. There are clear zones for sitting, eating, drink procurement. I'm not sure about the use of calla lillies (aren't they considered a funereal flower?) but the judges didn't seem to mind. Personally, I would've thrown a few sprigs of lemon verbena and lemongrass into the flower arrangements, to up the sensory experience, and stayed away from the cabbage. Hmmm. I have better taste than Michael. There's an exclusive club.

Let's look at what Andrea, Erik and Goil cooked up:

 

Oy. That stripey wall doohickey is the first thing that greets people walking into the tent. It's the opposite of a welcome. The towers of booze began as chandeliers, per Goil's suggestion, then devolved into "floor chandeliers," then became cirrhosis as vertical art. I have no idea why there's a bench right up in front of the bar, or why the tables look like they belong in a six-year-old's magic act. I like the dance floor they introduced, but the color scheme seems a little loud to me. I can't find any overall organization to this design, and that kinda kills it for me.

So when the judges -- okay, wait.

I know I reference this item of clothing a lot in my writing, but I'll be burned with a crack pipe if Kelly Wearstler isn't wearing the bi-level dress from the beginning of the "Superfreak" video! Over a t-shirt and pair of pants. I give up, man. I do not, cannot and do not wish to understand the thought processes that lead an otherwise rational-appearing person to decide to wear this.

So the golfer, the golden girl, the guest judge and the superfreak head down to the parties and evaluate the spaces. You know what they loved the most about the whole thing? This guy. His name's Doc Holliday, and apparently he's a famous bouncer. (Wait, like James Dalton?!) Seems that Michael couldn't get his tasteful go-go dancers, so the team decided to go with a doorman instead. I have to say, I'd much rather encounter Doc here than that wall of whatever in the entry of Andrea/Erik/Goil's tent. Seriously, though, the judges talked more about the bouncer and what a great touch he was than they did about the DJs, the food that Matt and Goil went shopping for -- that tragic yellow bench didn't even get mentioned, but Doc got lots of airtime. And I guess it shows that someone on the Matt/Michael/Carisa team understood what makes a desirable party in L.A.: the idea that other people might not be allowed in.

In their evaluation, the judges make a couple of comments that don't make much sense to me. More than once, they mention that Erik has "old-school decorator skills," but they don't elaborate on this. I have no idea what this could mean. Can he design a room with no electricity? Does he refuse to use plastics? Is it code for something else entirely? And Margaret Russell makes another one of her weird, provably false statements: "Flowers shouldn't be furry." And yet, they are, Ms. Russell. They are.

As the judges deliberate, Goil finally calls his teammates on ignoring his input. He's especially upset that his former hero Andrea wasn't a dream to work with. Andrea and Erik apologize, both saying that they didn't realize they were ignoring him, and then in a weird move which I can only attribute to mental distress, Goil sits next to Michael and accepts a protective, consoling arm around him. I worry that Goil might be cracking from the pressure.

Ultimately, despite his abilities as an "old-fashioned decorator" (what on earth does that mean?!), Erik is sent home for playing the largest role in that disjoined, overly ambitious avant-garde lemony booze experience. Frankly, this episode had me considering a visit to the liquor cabinet.

Next week, we seem to be back in the land of individual challenges, and none too soon! Also, it appears that despite having her pick of carpenters, Carisa still has trouble with hers. I wonder what that streak of bad luck could possibly indicate...

Comments

[Mindi]

OMG - you are so right... that is the dress from the superfreak video... very strange outfit!

[Susanna]

The ice cream tables with the white tablecloths were tragic.

The red flowers were asstastic, furry or not. They looked like something bought from Michael's Crap Craft Store that should've been hot glue-gunned to a shittastic plastic wreath and nail-gunned to human Michael's granny's door at the old folk's home on Thanksgiving.

And who had the $.10 votives? The winning team I think. Awful.

And Kelly Wearstler? She had ALL of the little space pills in her space purse to herself this week. She's the Mayor of Pharmacy Village.

[bryanD]

Kelly Wearstler: A horny-submissive. The clothes is an advertisement for a strong hand to undress her and dress her again. Call me a male chauvinist pig (who likes "certain" types of programs), but the Forgotten Barbie Thing: HOT! Best part of very unfocused show.

[Catherine Cantieri]

Well, she *is* a very kinky girl. The kind you won't take home to mo-thah.

[BronzeMan]

I think Margaret Russell is way hotter than Kelly. Kelly looks like she would start getting distracted by something on the ceiling in the middle of the act of love. Margaret looks like she would have a great time messing up her perfect hair and makeup. And those legs. Wowza.