Ho Down in Dallas
by James Tuttle
You were probably as eager as I was for this week’s premiere of Bravo’s Most Eligible Dallas, even with its clunky title. Unfortunately, the pompous, self-important silliness in the introductory monologues makes about as much grammatical sense. Within the first two minutes, resident ladies’ man Matt introduces himself with these memorable lines: “If you want to hate on me for, uh, being a, duh, single guy…twenty-eight, uh…in town? Fine, do it!” What the hell? No, Matt, people aren’t “hating on you” for being single or being twenty-eight. They hate you for being a dick. Also, your eyebrows are too far apart. They might hate you for that, too.
The other cast members don’t fare much better. Glenn is a football player with an amazing body and a not-so-amazing face who, he tells us, has so much testosterone coursing through him that he can’t watch Family Feud with his mom without getting an erection. Ick. And Courtney looks like one of the big Kardashians—you know how Kardashians come in small and large sizes—and makes up words like “incestual.” Tara is a rich, blonde dog fanatic who claims to have broken into dangerous crack dens to rescue unloved puppies. As her maid cooks organic chicken that she will serve to some adopted mutts on Limoges side plates, I feel like she’d be a better fit for Real Housewives of Beverly Hills.
The Dallas gays on the show are a bit scary, too. Tara’s friend Gregg gives one the impression that Bravo somehow dug up Kurt Cobain and gave him a lisp. There’s another one who sits quietly on the sidelines like one of Will’s weird friends on Will & Grace. The one gay in the main cast, Drew, seems nerdy yet arrogant and entitled, especially when he makes a laughable attempt at smoking during his interview segments. I started to have a soft spot for him when he shared how he struggled to lose over two hundred pounds because having been that overweight at a young age can really fuck with your self-esteem. He then promptly lost any sympathy points by shooting up with some kind of female hormone that he uses to stay in shape. He did have a really cool coffee table with a base that looked like the tips of Gothic cathedral windows in his otherwise bleak apartment, though. I guess that’s worth something. Now he’s a douche with a cool table.
It was a close race for who was the biggest asshole until Matt with the excessive eyebrow spacing pulled ahead by inviting his friends out then rounding up as many bimbos as he could and parading them around some disgusting looking club. His BFF Courtney was clearly not pleased and clocked the situation quite accurately: “Woo! Woo! It’s like a whole train of hos in their cheap dresses and their plastic heels and their fake boobies.” Exactly.
You know, I rather like Courtney. She’s obviously bat-shit crazy and it was a good choice to build the season around the premise that she’s secretly lusting after Matt. When he brings yet another ditzy blonde to dinner later on, Court goes into attack mode and then has a meltdown when confronted about her aggressive behavior. It’s admirable that some of the people on this show actually know each other, unlike most of the not-so-Real Housewives, but when the most interesting thing to happen the entire episode is one of the cast members crying into a paper towel dispenser in a restaurant bathroom, it’s time to change the damn channel.
The obvious segue here would be a visit to The Boot Barn and a thorough review of this season’s Western Wear trends but Tuttle Mode tries never to be obvious. Also, my first thought was of my otherwise stylish friend Gillian’s horrible white rubber cowboy boots adorned with roses and skulls. She said, “Just so you know, I KILLED at the Calgary Stampede with these little puppies!”
“What or whom did you kill?” I asked. I didn’t get an answer.
Given the trend toward Americana that has recently surfaced in so many other design fields, it’s interesting that it hasn’t really shown up to a great degree in fashion. One exception was the lovely Rodarte Fall 2011 collection that we briefly mentioned a few months ago. The video of the show is below but, sadly, without the accompanying music. You can see the the show with the music on the Rodarte site here and I strongly advise doing that.
The theme is more Prairie Girl than Cowgirl but the designers were inspired by Terrence Malick’s 1978 film Days of Heaven, which was set in the Texas Panhandle so maybe we’re not too far off the mark, after all. More specifically, the legendary Golden Hour on the prairies at dusk informed everything from the fabric colors to the sunset-inspired makeup. I’m so glad they didn’t go with floods, tornados and Republicans instead.
In the press, the dresses seemed to garner the most attention but I thought that the fabulous long coats and flowing skirts were the best pieces. The long lean silhouettes were perfectly in line with this season’s aesthetic but definitely not in the minimalist way it’s being interpreted elsewhere. There were so many exquisite details like subtle touches of crystal, pony and horsehair accents, appliqué and beading. There were also beautiful hand-knit sweaters, a lot of Native American influence and two red crystal looks that were a nod to a certain Dorothy’s famous shoes. I also liked the cowboy-inspired boots that Nicholas Kirkwood created for the show and the perfect hair and makeup styling really knocked it out of the park.
The dreamy, sometimes sheer quality of the garments definitely didn’t scream autumn, reminding me that I like the Mulleavy sisters’ willingness to design without regard to perceived seasonal traditions. They’ve done dark collections for spring and some beautiful whites for winter in the past and I’m sure they’ll keep the surprises coming.
It’s unlikely that I’ll be visiting the American Prairies anytime soon because someone once advised me that I’d risk getting a house dropped on me, so I’m grateful to Rodarte for bringing a refreshing burst of open air to Los Angeles.