Valleywag commenters hate the idea, but the New York Post's Page Six loves IT Girls, the proposed reality TV show with New York umtrepreneurs Julia Allison, Meghan Asha and Mary Rambin.

Last night was the Project Runway finale. Could you feel it? It was in the air! It was positively zeitgeisty! Even our bartender at Little Dom's was going on about it. (Well, actually, she had forgotten, but we reminded her. And then she was all, "Runway this," and "Christian that!") We scarfed down a pizza with speck and fresh arugula (delish!), and headed over to our friend's place on Elevado St. for the big show. Things only got better from there. There was champagne and guacamole, and a wall-mounted TV, and a whirlwind of last-minute Bryant Park preparations. Silly Jillian, you took a model variety-pack when you should have stuck to just one kind, like a dozen 5'10" Asians—how fierce would that have been? You're OK, but you're not, like, fierce. Your dad is kind of fierce, though. And there's Rami, who is deeply influenced by a Joan of Arc poster or something. Quit hissing, everyone, we can't hear what Rami is saying! Oh—he's saying Christian is young and has a lot to learn about the fashion business. [Fierce megaspoiler after the jump!]

In last night's premiere episode of Bravo's Real Housewives of New York City no one bothered to stay in New York City very long. They all flounced off to their gaudy Hamptons manses or, in one ridiculous case, to the classy-talk speaking island of St. Barth's. Ramona, the most image conscious of the leathery ladies, flirted with her nincompoop tennis pro and got drunk poolside with her dopey friends, much to the chagrin of her stick-up-her-ass daughter. Betheny, some sort of aspiring Martha Stewart (and the youngest and only single member of the group) didn't do anything memorable. Jill, the one from the Long Island "Jewish ghetto" who does bulk resale, pranced around playing tennis and sending her perfectly healthy looking daughter off to some sort of weight loss detox program. LuAnn De Lesseps (the countess) barked at her maid and talked about money. And then there's Alex, the stern-jawed Brooklynite (she's the only one who doesn't live on the Upper East Side) who, with her fey Australian husband and forcibly French speaking children, trotted off to St. Barth's to avoid the crush of the Hamptons. There she and her husband wore hideously skimpy bathing costumes and bought tens of thousands of dollars worth of ugly dresses.

The final Runway four climbed onto Live with Regis and Kelly's barstools this morning, offering us, the way-too-involved Project Runway fan, the illusion of seeing some old, completely-charisma-free friends on national morning TV! (Perhaps the same is being said of us.) Moments after Jillian Lewis shared the many, many mishaps that made the construction of her Twizzlers dress such a living nightmare (so many licorice-related complications!), Reeg goes in for the kill:

And then there were five. Last night's Project Runway was the last before next week's catty reunion episode. (Apparently the African-American girl we have no absolutely no recollection of was really upset about certain things someone said about her!)

If you simply, absolutely must see what the final five Project Runway contestants (Sweet P, Christian, Rami, Jillian, and Chris) sent down the catwalk today at their New York's Fashion Week shows, there's plenty of photos at Getty Images. The only thing we're going to spoil for you, however, is contained in the photo above, featuring the show's beloved panel, and guest finale judge Victoria Beckham, rocking an orange kimono dress and steadfastly adhering to her 24-hour grimace policy. It's a portrait of such feroche fiercosity, forgive us while we react to it the only we know how—with a stream-of-consciousness regurgitation of every Runway cliché we can think of:

With two weeks since the last new installment, we came to last night's episode hungry for Project Runway action, like a submissive John desperate to be body-slammed by his favorite dominatrix in thigh boots. Luckily, this week's challenge amply serviced our whimpery needs, as the guest models were the Divas of WWE. They were she-beasts all, showing off for the remaining designers in an impressive demonstration that required them to grab a regular Runway model by the ankle, then swing them over their heads and launch them across the room before high-fiving each other and engaging in a spirited flex-off. Enjoy.

We've already admitted to you our growing fascination with thinly veiled child-sex-trafficking game show Make Me A Supermodel. (Small side note: Has the term "supermodel" lost all currency? Is it now the fashion world equivalent of the term "porn star," with any XXX-come-lately to successfully wrap a dp scene instantly elevating themselves to the level of a Courtney Cummz or Naomi St. Clair? But we digress.) Forced to up the naked ante from last week's naughty boudoir challenge, producers dispensed with all manner of propriety, and had the remaining contestants strip bare for a drawing class.

We must admit, for a reality show we initially wrote off as being pointless and shamelessly derivative, Bravo's Make Me A Supermodel has us by the throats. We'll watch some episodes two, three, 17 times. It's also the rare reality show we insist on watching alone. Go figure! With that surfer/D.J. creep Dominic sent packing by America last night, mumbling something about how ill-fitting shoes have cost him his shot at male supermodel greatness, we could finally get down to brass tacks:

Comedienne, Radar honoree, and, most importantly, queer icon Kathy Griffin's Bravo reality show My Life On The D-List has been renewed for another season. This is pretty exciting for the many gays who adore her and her comedy, which is basically recapping several months worth of celebrity gossip blogs. (But in a funny conversational way!) Now they can enjoy even more of her odd orange glow from the comfort of their own plush, be-teeny-tiny-dogged apartments. [B&C]

While we were otherwise occupied last night obsessively running a fine-tooth comb through every late-night-host's facial hair configuration, tapping out the contents on a stark white surface, and drawing our observations accordingly, we managed to miss a new Project Runway. Thanks to the modern age miracle of DVRs, however, and the no-less miraculous video-digesting talents of Molly McAleer, we were able to pretty much fill in the blanks:

· Annoyed that no progress has been made in the strike, the DGA has offered January 7 as the start date for their own AMPTP negotiations. Obviously, we hope everything goes smoothly, and yet a tiny part of us would love to lay our eyes on an Incredible Picketing Director Baby, wearing a beret and holding a tiny, old-fashioned megaphone. [Variety]
· Lists! Lists! We love lists! Here's one of 10 things that didn't happen in Hollywood this year. [Variety]
· The music industry renames itself Josh Groban's Noel LLC, fires any artist, manager, or A&R person not by that name. [Variety]
· It's producer vs. agent over who came up with the idea of a reality show set in a gym first. [THR]
· Hollywood breaks record overseas, pulling in $10 billion in box office receipts, up 15% from last year. We know this is supposed to be good news, so why does it fill us with a vague sense of dread? [THR]

In an odd bit of slimy serendipity, Eater LA just yesterday noticed a promo for new Bravo reality show The Millionaire Matchmaker featuring none other than Dolce Group co-owner and criminal complaint target Lonnie Moore, essentially turning his televised search for Miss Right into Accused Rapist Love Connection. We'll be back in two-and-two. [Eater LA]

Wait just one second. Why does the costume-making bear get to come back to Project Runway, while staph-infection Jack Mackenroth does not? One Jack fan refuses to take this lying down, and has started an online petition: "Jack has since made a full recovery but left Project Runway due to illness instead of elimination. This petition is an effort to show support and convince the producers of the show to allow Jack to return for the competition next season." [ipetitions.com via Queerty]

At long last, the Most Dramatic Staph-Infection-Related Project Runway Departure Ever aired last night, in which contestant Jack Mackenroth developed a MRSA beneath his mouth (pronounced MER-sa, it stands for Methicillin-resistant Staphylococcus aureus, and this is a great place to start if you'd like to learn more about antibiotic-resistant bacterial infections and you!), forcing the Dale Levitski-snugglebum to tearfully excuse himself from the competition.

The sprouting of a new relationship is always a precarious matter, so it's with a measure of reluctance that we pass along news that Top Chef runner-up Dale Levitski has found in Project Runway's Jack Mackenroth a comrade-in-hunky-arms—someone to curl up with on a bearskin rug on cold winter nights and exchange Padma/Heidi horror stories. Having unwittingly signed a contract that forced them to disclose every intra-network sexual liaison from now until death, Bravo's even-gayer internet arm (if one could even conceive of such a thing) Outzone.com has the saucy scoop:

Revisiting Andy Cohen's blog on Friday, something we hadn't done for a while, kind of made us nostalgic for the guy, as no other blogging basic cable network executive really gives it to us straight the way Andy does. A return seemed in order, and today's post certainly doesn't disappoint: Andy on the 2 Girls 1 Cup internet phenomenon: "I can't and won't watch it." Andy on Guy Ritchie's night out with the NY Times: "[T]he writer catches up with a Singlet-Clad Guy at his wrassling class or wrestling meet or homoerotic night at group therapy or whatever it was." And finally, Andy on meeting Helen Mirren: "She was very nice and wearing a black suit." [Andy's Blog]

The fourth season of "Project Runway" will feature an "ad-supported advanced advertising application"—that means that viewers can use their remotes to participate in polls and the like as it airs, Bravo announced today. Unfortunately, Bravo does not address the important question of whether settings will be available allowing the viewer to selectively mute Michael Kors. The press release follows.

If you found yourselves camped in front of the TV last night watching Kathy Griffin's latest stand-up special, Straight to Hell, and wondering what it is about the comedian that sends her loyal, mostly gay audiences into hyperventilating fits of laughter over an act comprised of mostly warmed-over showbiz insider gossip, perhaps the above video will help:

Blogging Bravo executive extraordinaire Andy Cohen reports today that he was blindsided by the whole "Elizabeth Berkley hosting a show at his own network" thing. Isn't that, like, his job? Or is he kidding? Was he also kidding about having "lice and crabs?" Do you agree with him that, "LA sucks. It SUCKS!" Discuss. [Andy's Blog]