The Amazing Race 7 - The Emmy winning Season 7 of the Amazing Race on DVD - complete with episode commentary and other extras.
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Fashion Report - Episode Four
Hildy: Long hair worn down during the race bothers me, as it seems like a bad general practice—you can guarantee that it’ll get all rat’s nesty during the leg, so the smart thing to do would be to keep it under some sort of control. Your grease monkey example is a case in point. Wouldn’t you rather have the hair out of the picture and be able to concentrate on the task at hand? Unless you were Team ATC, of course. They didn’t have to worry about hair so much as they did busting the zipper on the jumpsuit. I wonder if the show makes them pay for incidental damages. I can see the bill at the end of the Race now: “One zipper: 69 cents. Overstretched Bungee: 43.87; redundant use of whale jokes: 30 minute penalty.”
Daria: Team Who’s Jeff – or Dave, I keep thinking this is the testosterone version of Dark Hair/Light Hair – has a hideous, dark-blue, long-sleeved t-shirt with white horizontal stripes. It goes into my clothing-that-must-burn pile. I believe the same Who owns the bright red bandanna that also goes into my burn pile. It’s a shade of red that should only worn as nail polish or women politicians’ suits. That’s not to say it’s feminine, it’s just wrong. And speaking of female vs wrong, here’s where I bitch about those inept, bumbling fathers in the J.C. Penney ads. They’re your kids, too, dads – learn how to handle them yourselves. Ah, I feel so much better now!
Hildy: I hate those ads, too! Thanks for passing on the message that it’s okay to not know how to take care of your own kids, JC Penney. Befuddled dads who are ruled by their kids is just the right kind of parenting message to send. Aaaand, in a grotesque mental contortion designed to get me back on topic, I’m happy to note that most of our racers clothing looks as if it came from REI rather then Herr Penney. With one glaring exception: That dreadful salt and pepper turtleneck that Phil wore at the beginning of the show. Onto the fashion bonfire you go, dreaded sweater. That sweater gave Phil—and I realize that I’m blaspheming here—the merest suggestion of man boobs. Must go rinse out mouth with soap now.
Hildy: Okay, here’s where I pluck a nice big fat bunch of sour grapes and start chewing. Yes, they did look good, but the thing that I noticed about these models? Their faces were not perfect! They had laugh lines and some chin sag! This made me very happy, as misery enjoys a good crowded room full of folks in similar circumstances. The green metallic jacket was less grating this show.
Hildy: I just read that Josh interview and thought, “You great stupid Git.” (Yes, I did just finish reading Order of the Phoenix. How did you guess?) All I could think of were high schoolers these days, who scorn all form of outerwear as some sort of cultural statement. Perhaps Josh meant the coatlessness as a gesture to his peeps, since he pretty much behaved like a teenager throughout his stay on the race….
Daria: Did you have any thoughts on this week’s greeter, Hildy? I was a history major in college, but I couldn't place this greeter’s character in a particular era or class. I did think he was reasonably handsome, and he wore his clothes well, however.
Hildy: I suspected that he was meant to be a classic Provencal man of the soil. (Why I think this is beyond me—perhaps it’s because I just finished re-reading Mistral’s Daughter for the umpty-fourth time.) At any rate, several posters thought he looked as if he were the long-lost brother of Bob Dylan. I liked the whole ensemble, however--Definitely less skeevy than the maquillage worn by Mr. O Sole Mio.
Hildy: Pleasant guys if they keep their mouths shut, that is. I can’t really say that they have lousy personalities, because from all accounts they are nice people who race a clean race and have done thoughtful and compassionate things, such as helping out Millie. And the Ham quotient has subsided significantly, thank all the gods. But still, they make me nervous. I worry about the next time they’ll clown around, and all the good will they’ve been accumulating will deflate-- pfffft—just like that.
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