Project Runway-Season 4 Finale, finally.

OK. So I get it. You only love me for my Project Runways. Everyone just went away. No one wants to know about dog game training and fitness and being responsible and doing taxes. But now it's the end of the season? Do you just go away and come back next year like winter people in RV's with your 4 wheelers dragging behind? It was nice knowing you? Don't you want to see how Gustavo's weave poles turn out someday? Yeah. You all go to Marfa and leave me here.

So there were some moments of pure joy the other night. 36 tall, skinny, pointy steppers walking up and down a long, white ramp in a giant tent. To a soundtrack that just matches the pointy stepping so nice! With these looks on their faces. Like this is something to aspire to. To have the Walk of the Fierce, down the ramp, stand for a moment with your weight sort of weirdly balanced with feet ahead and shoulders back, then turn and walk back. They have these tiny little faces and tiny little heads, and these long, stretchy limbs on which are just piled ruffles and feathers and weaving and sweaters and all kinds of stuff.

Christian. We knew you would win. No we didn't. Yes we did. No we didn't. Because we loved all of Jillian's clothes and she is Officially Elected the Extraordinary Designer of things for dog agility. Jackets and coats and sweaters and pants. Maybe not the tiny gold dress, because you have to have the thighs of Heidi that are nowhere near each other in the middle to wear that. But everything else.

But here was the ringer. The guest judge was Posh Spice! Who is a lady version of Christian except way richer and her head is bigger. She has such a weird, giant head and her haircuts make it look like it is maybe going to slide off to the side someday. So when Christian's outfits paraded across with giant ruffles EVERYWHERE, it was like, Posh Spice! Bend it like Posh! She is going to WANT something fierce those outfits. She will pack Christian up in her tote and take him home to England or LA or whichever mansion they are in this week, and he can be like the fashion nanny to her tiny tots and he is happy to live in a giant tote bag and she can cart him around to dress her in giant ruffles for her giant head and tight little pants for her tiny little thighs.

I thought it was weird Rami got second place. The hypnosis. That did it. I guess he got less points for being less drapey, and Nina pointed out so nicely that his colors are barfy. I forget what she said. Brady Bunch? I don't see that, but I do see barfy. He's never made many things that are of useful colors that are actually flattering to skin. So long Rami. I am happy I don't have to think about your turbany, slingy dresses anymore.

Jillian's stuff was so much cooler. But maybe she feels better knowing she is Extraordinary Designer of things for dog agility? Can someone tell her? Anyone have people in Long Island? She seems to be so worried all the time. Maybe this would cheer her up. I think we can build her a fan base. She is Sportswear, and we are Sporty! Like what if Sporty Spice had been a judge? Perhaps Jillian. I think no Spices would have selected Rami.

But I'll say this for Project Runway. This is a show where they actually do something super cool. The final fashion show made me happy on a day where everything else made me just want to spit and keep on driving. It reminds me so much of graduate school, except a happy graduate school where they actually learn a skill such as sewing and then they parade their things down their runway like a review. And I am just waking up now from the monster storm with no sparkly shoes and a dead witch draped over the headboard.

And Wayne Thiebaud is like Tim Gunn, and tells them they should just learn to be the best little darn horse painter that they can be. Even if they don't win.

And Nina is like that evil old witch of Critical Theory with the lips and the beads and who clawed her way to the top somehow by being vile and creepy and scaring everyone with words no one understands and you just wish didn't have so much power and leaves you with a scathing remark and a taste in your mouth like dirt mixed with rubber.

And Michael Kors, well, we learn from him it is useful to just wear the same thing every day and don't worry about it and no one cares if you wear your sunglasses inside.

And Heidi, she wasn't at my graduate school but I hate it now when she whispers something Germanic in Ruby's ear and makes her blow the contact and not get in the tunnel and turn away and run the other way and do some jumps out to the side, and a table, before running back in to the tunnel. Making me yell at no one in particular, "What the hell is wrong with my DOG???" Like on Wednesday night, just before Project Runway Season Finale. Coincidence? I think not.