jump to navigation

The Paper Brioche Chronicles: Part the first Tuesday, November 20, 2007

Posted by Clare in Clare, makin' it work, objectivity is overrated, Project Runway, reality TV.

When DeadOn was conceived (in the bed of a pickup truck while My Bloody Valentine’s Loveless tootled on the stereo, if you must know) I swore I would be the blog’s resident Project Runway analyst. After months of laborious waiting, Bravo has finally birthed the fourth season of Project Runway.

Let’s recap (and I’ll give the birth analogies a rest) after the jump!

What are my qualifications for staking my claim on Project Runway, you might wonder. Well, not many. I’ve never worked retail, I hate wearing heels, and I do most of my shopping from the Lands’ End catalog. (What can I say? I heart cashmere sweaters.)

But I grew up watching Style with Elsa Klensch with my mom every Saturday morning, I know how you’re supposed to pronounce empire waist (ahm-peer, not em-pyre), I think Marc Jacobs was a better designer when he was chubby and on the drugs, and I know my Matthew Williamson from my Alexander McQueen, my Christian Lacroix from my Yves Saint Laurent, and I can spot a fake Murakami at 50 paces. I’ve styled friends for hot dates, job interviews, TV appearances, and even their weddings. So I’m no Anna Wintour — I’m not even that fraud Stacy London — but I’m no yokel either.

So now that I’ve explained what my deal is, in the words of our grand hostess Heidi Klum Seal, let’s start the show!

THE OPENING CREDITS (or, what you’ll be fast-forwarding past next week)

We begin with the opening credit sequence, starting with Heidi in a black strapless dress with a poofy skirt.

A fat guy wearing a satin leopard shirt and a lime tie shouts, “Let’s go!”

A tiny Blue States Lose refugee hisses, “Hell yes, I’m the best.”

A tanned guy with a creased face makes a “say hello to my little friend” expression and says, “I’m in. They’re out.”

A Derek Zoolander clone in a black tank top sniffs, “I wouldn’t be caught dead in his clothes.”

A peroxide blonde in a beret (a beret? really?) sneers, “Fashion is my life.”

Tim Gunn asks, “Who will be the next great fashion designer?”

A well-bred Long Island-y looking girl with a pouf of raven hair chirps, “That’s me!”

A beautiful black glamazon declares in a Grace Jones voice, “Bottom line? I’m the best.”

A hunky bald guy proclaims, “I will OWN the RUNWAY.”

Finally, Heidi tells us that “For these 15 designers, Project Runway is the chance of a lifetime.” Hmm, only 15 designers this season! That’s different.


Rami made this dressFirst to arrive at Boys’ Apartment: Rami Kashou of Jerusalem, Israel. He is the hunky bald fellow. Jessica Alba wore one of his dresses at the VMAs. He has a boutique in Beverly Hills, and he thinks Project Runway can introduce his work to a larger audience. Well, duh.

The fat guy in the leopard shirt is next to arrive. Chris March has been a costume designer for almost 20 years. They show some of his costumes, and it seems he’s made a name for himself in designing “larger-than-life” costumes for beefy drag queens — there’s a Wonder Woman with an enormous wig, a chunky Little Orphan Annie, and a variety of 101 Dalmatians fashions. They’re all very well done as theater pieces, but the piece de résistance is an adorable halter dress made of red kale with a wide, deep purple velvet sash and a necklace and bracelet of cherry tomatoes.

The tiny Misshape shows up next, with his asymmetrical hair and black plastic-framed glasses. I want to smash my own black plastic glasses on the ground than have anything in common with Christian Siriano. He went to fashion school in London, and says he worked with Alexander McQueen and Vivienne Westwood. They show a clip from his audition video, where he says “I’m kinda fierce? And I’m kind of a celebrity? In my own head.” It’s not cute or charming and I already want to slap him in his twinky little face.

Chris cackles when Christian says he’d “rather buy clothes than buy a bed.” Um, you’re a designer, buddy; why don’t you make your own?

Carmen Webber (the Grace Jones type) and Jillian Lewis (the girl with the poufy black hair) arrive at Girls’ Apartment. Carmen is a former model and says that “If you haven’t modeled you don’t know the first thing about designing clothes.” Uh, what?

Jillian is an illustrator and designer for Ralph Lauren (her sketches are darling — there’s a military inspired frock coat with black tights that I covet). She says working at Ralph Lauren has been a wonderful learning experience but she’s not interested in contributing to someone else’s vision. She arrives at the loft in the cutest little powder blue halter culotte jumper with a wide white belt and chunky white platform sandals. She’s super JAPpy and I love her already.

Oh, and then Kit “Pistol” arrives. I treat her arrival with the same fanfare the editor monkeys do.

Back at the Boys’ Apartment, Derek Zoolander reveals that his real name is Kevin Christiana and he did a line of jeans for the Victoria’s Secret catalog. Sorry, Kevin, but I have christened you Derek Zoolander, and Derek Zoolander you shall remain. He says he’s straight. “I just like style. There’s actually a lot more straight designers out there now than there was back in the day.” I actually believe him; No self-respecting gay dude would have such creative facial hair.

Derek and Jack Mackenroth (“say hello to my little friend”-face) slap hands and wish each other good luck. Jack giggles, “We’ll probably hate each other by the end of the show.”

Soft-spoken Steven Rosengard arrives next and we learn he’s a designer at the Museum of Science and Industry in Chicago. He plays the piano in his audition video. In my notes, I write, “gay or just eccentric?” He removes all doubt when he makes a good joke in his audition video about remembering the phone number of a guy he’s sketching.

Girls’ Apartment: Simone Le Blanc arrives. She looks around, bewildered. I love her hair, so blonde and Nico-y.

CUT TO: A lady with wiry black hair clutching two sunflowers (WTF?) who introduces herself as Elisa Jimenez, “an accidental fashion designer.” She designs marionettes. She says she’s been practicing her yoga in a tiny space. She annoys me already.

CUT BACK TO: Boys’ Apartment. Marion Lee arrives. Ricky Lazade arrives as well.

Girls’ Apartment: A…ah…mature woman arrives in a sleeve and a half of tattoos and a peasant-y top. Her name is Sweet P Vaughn. She used to be in an all-girl motorcycle club. Her designs are a little more Western than my taste, but her sketches are remarkably cute and use a lot more princess seams than I’d expect from someone with her aesthetic. Her business is out of money, so she’s hoping that it’s a good business opportunity.


They pop some champagne bottles (oooh, Moet!) and we meet some more designers. Elisa is still clutching those damn sunflowers.

Simone says she has “an honest vision that comes from the heart.” Her samples are styled like Frida Kahlo paintings, and her tops are intricately ruched and corseted.

Marion Lee owns a flower shop in Dallas, Texas. I’ve worked in a flower shop since I was old enough to push a broom, so I like him. (Are you beginning to see why I used the “objectivity is overrated” tag?) They show a tweed-wrapped vase of red roses with fuzzy white lambs-ear. He wants to get back into fashion; right now he’s been selling his clothes out of his flower shop.

Jack Mackenroth “has spent the majority of [his] career working for other designers.” He “individual creative vision” seems to include lots of prints; his samples include a long empire-waist gown with a Pucci-esque print, and a black sheath dress with a black and white brocade cape.

Victorya Hong is originally from Korea, and she describes herself as competitive and an overachiever. Her sample work includes three short dresses with fluttery kimono sleeves and belts. I’m not impressed.

Kit Pistol: “Kit Pistol is kind of like my Mark Twain, it’s an alias.” Her designs are like, Deadwood-punk; lots of puffy mutton-chop sleeves and plaids. I sort of like them. She says, “Life is too short to have on a bad outfit.” Can’t disagree with that.

We meet this season’s Andrae: lingerie designer Ricky Lazade. He’s one of 14 kids, and he grew up in a two-bedroom house. He came to New York to be a dancer (they show a photo of a couple of dancers in sheer costumes, and the girl dancer’s nips are fuzzed out) He turns on the waterworks, saying “it’s really a deep thing for me to be on Project Runway, this whole experience…it’s not just a game for me…it’s my life.”


Heidi, sporting a black halter, short pants, gold chandelier earrings and black stilettos (at what looks like 10 in the morning) welcomes everyone to Bryant Park, home of Mercedes-Benz Fashion Week. Ch-ch-ch-changes! It used to be Olympus Fashion Week! Then, she introduces Tim Gunn as chief creative officer of Liz Claiborne Inc. No more Tim at Parsons?! NOOOOOO! She cutely grabs him by the face and plants a big kiss on him. Tim says that this year’s contestants are “the strongest. Group. Ever.”

Heidi asks the group if they’ve settled into their new apartments (“YES, mooooom”) and if they’ve enjoyed their champers (“YES, MOOOOOM!”) and tells them that the party’s over. What a surprise. Not.


Heidi tells the designers that they are to use the three tents across the lawn to create a garment that showcases their personal style. Some of the designers do a better job than others at hiding their disgust. Christian groans that he “doesn’t want to make an outfit out of this craaaaaaaap.” But Tim comes to the rescue and tells the designers that the tents are constructed out of $50,000 worth of designer fabrics donated by Mood Fabrics. Yay! They perk right back up.

An overhead shot reveals the walls of the tents are lined with solids and prints of chiffons, satins, cottons, jerseys in every color and print imaginable. It is an embarrassment of riches.

Tim tells the designers they have 10 minutes to choose their fabrics. Sweet P kicks off her slingback wedges so she can run easier — good idea. Heidi tells them, “GO!” and they’re off. Ricky says he “ran like a Mexican runnin’ for the border.” Apparently, it was Heidi’s birthday on the day they were filming this scene, and Elisa hands Heidi the sunflower as she runs past.

Derek Zoolander and Kit Pistol both want a plaid fabric and Derek makes it there first. Meanwhile, while all the other designers are poring over the fabric, Fat Chris is still huffing and puffing his way across the lawn. I feel you, Fat Chris. I’d be right there with you. Fortunately for Fat Chris, the fabrics he wanted were waiting for him, and no one else chose what he wanted.

We get our first real glimpse of Elisa’s weirdness when she takes a piece of lovely celadon silk chiffon and decides she wants to “imbue it with a natural element.” So she gets GRASS STAINS ALL OVER IT. The editors put spacey, New Agey pan flute music over her ruining this lovely piece of fabric and cut in a shot of Tim Gunn standing over her with an “Ohhhhh-kay…” look on his face.

Tim rounds his ducklings up and points out that only one piece of fabric is left, a wooly fake fur. He calls it Bigfoot. We go to commercial. The timer on the Tivo says I’m only 12 minutes into the show. Jesus Christ, this is hard.


The designers spread out around the workroom and get to work. Tim informs them that they have until 1 AM that day to get their designs done, and he tells them “in our Project Runway tradition, ‘make it work.'” The designers smile and laugh, and give him a round of applause.

Victorya and Carmen both talk about how overwhelming the challenge is, trying to define who you are. I can’t say I disagree.

Ricky decides he’s going to showcase his lingerie background by doing a babydoll style. Which, OK, that showcases your background, but it’s kind of a copout (hi, it’s like, three seams) and super-super trendy. However, I do like the fabrics he’s chosen: a black chiffon with silver Lurex threads running through it, and some scalloped black lace.

Rami is off and running, saying he “loves to drape.” His cool gray chiffon is knotted over one shoulder, and wraps around the bodice gracefully. His dress isn’t even off the dress form and I already want to wear it.

From the sublime to the ridiculous: I literally gasp in horror as we cut in to a close up of a pair of silver shears going snick! snick! snick! over a handful of magnificent blue-green ombre silk crepe-back satin. Tiny snippets of satin rain over her table and I know only one designer could treat such a beautiful textile so cruelly, and of course it’s Elisa. Her explanation? “I wanted to create mythical gown, so I decided to create a cascade, almost like water, or, like, magic.” Shut up and treat that $50 per yard fabric with the respect it deserves, hippie! And when Christian the Misshape is calling you “a little strange,” you need to take a good hard look at yourself, missy!


Jillian has chosen a sherbety-pink-orange fabric and has made a form-fitting halter bodice with a deep wrap front and cutaway sides. She says she grabs bright, exciting colors, “but in the end, it has to be something of elegance and sophistication.” She starts pinning a skirt to the bodice, and the dress is shaping up to be cute.

Kit Pistol worries that her clothes will be misunderstood by the judges. She has a gray-and-black print and a solid red, and she doesn’t seem to know what she’s doing with them.

Stephen says his style is probably more classic. I’m fine with that. I wish there were more Laura Bennetts on this show than Santinos and Jeffrey Sibelias. His dress form reveals that a well-tailored jacket in some sort of heavy black material is taking shape.

Carmen asks the room at large if anyone has a pinking shear with a larger zig-zag, and Jack offers her his pair. “That’ll do it,” she intones. “Jack to save the day, you’re the superhero…and you look like one too.” Someone else (Sweet P, maybe?) shouts, “Yeah, did you see his abs?” Jack smiles and shouts back, “I’m in the room, people.” Aw, bonding. Too bad these people are going to be throwing each other under the bus in three episodes or less.


Tim Gunn stops at Rami’s station first, and calls his gown “stunning.” And it is. The dress wraps over one shoulder and gracefully cascades down, but a self-fabric belt gives it shape and definition. It’s lovely, but he did get an excellent piece of fabric to work with.

Next up: Christian. He’s made an absurd jacket with enormous mutton-chop Anne Shirley puffed sleeves. It’s made from a black, cream, and tan plaid, and the plaids don’t match up on the back of the jacket — one of my pet peeves. Christian says that he wasn’t trying to get the plaids to match, but “you can see where I was trying to do that, right?” WTF? Either you want them to match or you don’t. You can’t have it both ways, Fake Other Guy. The way I see it, he tried to get them to match, he couldn’t get them to match, and didn’t feel like going back to fix his mistake. To his credit, his outfit seems to be at least 80 percent finished, which is more than I can say for some of the other designers.

Like…Simone. She’s made a little babydoll style dress out of pearl gray satin, a peachy beige chiffon for the skirt and a wide band of bright yellow at the empire waist. The colors are quite fresh, but at first glance the silhouette reminds me of the bridesmaid dresses in the J.Crew catalog. The whole dress looks really simple, but each piece is pinned to the dress form — none of it is sewn together. Uh oh. Tim is concerned that she won’t have enough time. As Tim leaves her, we also see she’s made a little shruggy thing out of chiffon with a baroque black and white print. It’s sort of gross.

Next victim: Elisa. “Since it’s an expression of self,” she says, “I decided to do something I feel very akin to which is the body shape.” Oh, zip it, hippie. The front is made of a bright aqua matte jersey. It’s got draped sleeves and cinches at the bust with a large shell button. I hate it. Matte jersey and big shell buttons: DOES NOT COMPUTE. That pairing of materials is bad enough, but when she turns it around, she reveals an extremely low slit in the back that contains a cathedral-length train of a variety of mismatched fabrics that she wants to spill out behind her model as she walks. It’s vile, and to top it off, it looks poorly made — all the seams and raw edges show, and not in an organic way, just a lazy way. I hate it.

Elisa decides, with two hours left in the day, to lay down and take a nap.


Montage of designers scrambling to finish. “Don’t go into the fear box, people, don’t go into the fear box,” Christian commands. “Whatever, I’m done.”

Elisa reenters the workroom and Derek Zoolander asks her if she’s had a good sleep. “You were conked out!” he says.

Commercials. Thank you, Television Jesus.


Rami, Fat Chris, and Christian gossip in their apartment. They agree that they’re in good shape because they have finished garments. CUT TO: Elisa doing yoga by the window of her apartment. Hmm, think the editors are trying to tell us something?

Tim sends the models in, and tells the designers make good use of the Bluefly.com accessories wall (huh…no more Macy’s) and to wow the judges. Tim, I love you, but you say that every week, homeslice.

Chris swoons “HALLLLLLLELLLLLUUJAH, this girl is GOOOORGEOUS.” It’s true; he has a beautiful girl with glowing cocoa skin, and his maroon and olive charmeuse gown really pops.

Victorya bitches that the models “were more or less assigned to us and we weren’t allowed to pick and choose.” There’s no more or less about it, V, they WERE assigned to you. But all is well, she says she was really happy with her girl.

Elisa gets a willowy girl with long, wavy chestnut hair. She hand-measures her, which I imagine the girl has had happen to her before, but Elisa manages to make it sound really, really creepy.

Stephen has a Karen Elson type with auburn hair who groans that his jacket is tight. Oh noes!!

We hear Jillian’s girl say that she loves the color of Jillian’s dress, and Jillian smiles, “I’m glad to hear that!” Oh, cuteness.

Christian’s girl says off-camera that his outfit “feels London to me.” Oh, you stupid girl, you’re playing right into his hands! Christian pastes on a Cheshire-cat smile and says, “I knoooooow, right?”


Makeover, makeover, makeover makeover, for you and meeeeeeee!


Simone has to stitch her girl into the dress because she didn’t have enough time to set the zipper. I’m scratching my head over this: The dress has a bodice, a wide waistband, and a pleated skirt with a bubble hem. I don’t understand how much time these three pieces took, when Christian had time to make a skirt and a jacket with giant Anne Shirley sleeves and Stephen was able to tailor a suit.

Elisa tells her girl she wants her to do a practice walk. As you can imagine, it doesn’t go well: “The sculptural element of the dress literally tangled about her.” Her instinct is to hack off about five feet of the train. Do you think she does it?


This year’s prizes are not much different than before, except they get the opportunity to sell their clothes on Bluefly.com. Not bad. I bought a Jay McCarroll tote through Bravo.com after the first season, and it took forever for me to receive it, though.

She introduces the judges: designer Michael Kors, Nina Garcia, editor of Elle magazine, and Monique Lhullier, who’s famous for her frothy, sexy lace wedding gowns.

Sidebar: I’m a little distracted while I’m writing this because it’s just been announced that OH MY GOD JIMMY ROLLINS IS THE 2007 NL MVP! J-ROLL! J-ROLL! J-ROLL! WOOOOOOO!

(Chase Utley, 2008 is your year, dude.)

OK. Back to the fashion.


Elisa’s up first. She styled her girl with ruched teal nubuck boots and and a long braid down her back. As she walks down the runway, her girl gets tangled in the fugly train. I am Jack’s complete lack of surprise.

Fat Chris is next. His model, Marcia, looks elegant and regal in a long eggplant satin gown with an intricately woven and wrapped bodice of eggplant and olive satin.

Derek Zoolander’s model, Katie, comes down the runway in a short, strapless, metallic red and black dress. Her hair is immaculately blown out, but her posture is terrible and the impression I get of the whole look is of a very “edgy” bat mitzvah girl, very Bala Girls Club. Next!

Sweet P sends her model Christina out in a sacky little outfit. A cocoon dress in parchment-colored eyelet is accented with a stripe of red satin at the hem and has shoulder straps of sky blue and cherry red ombre satin that tie in a perky bow at the bust. The blue and red fabric was darling, and I wish she would have showcased it more. Sweet P calls it “a happy dress.” It is cheerful.

Simone’s model comes down the runway. Her dress is lumpy in the bodice and the interesting volume of the bubble hem is gone — it’s just straight and blah. Boo.

Whether she did this on purpose or not, Jillian has styled her model Amanda into a little clone of herself: Voluminous dark hair, big dark sunglasses, bright lip color, and a sweet little summer dress with a bare back. She looks adorable, and it definitely distills her design aesthetic into one look. It’s also very bat mitzvah girl, but much younger and fresher. The dress gets a +1 from me for the inclusion of pockets!

Christian’s girl Lisa comes out next. Lisa, with her hair pasted shinily to her head, looks briefly like Rashida Jones, and I wonder when Jim Halpert is going to show up. Christian’s outfit looks better in motion than on the dress form. I still don’t like it, though. The skirt turns up at the hem and gives the impression that the wearer has inadvertently tucked her skirt into her panties on the way back from the ladies’ room. He crows, “The jacket fit SO GOOD, I don’t know how that happened.” Yeah, I don’t either.

Victorya Hong is next. Her model wears a sacky black chiffon minidress with wide black satin straps and a giant metallic brocade flower on the shoulder. There are straps that go across the outside of the shoulder that prevent the model from swinging her arms while she walks. It’s cuter than it sounds, but it’s not my favorite.

Next, Rami. Ashley saunters down the runway like a goddess in his chiffon gown. I have no idea how he made this happen, but it’s draped across the back and the front of the gown cinches in nicely to give the girl shape. I could raise an eyebrow at the odd pooches of fabric at the hips, but the overall effect is lovely.

Ricky’s model Wendi struts out in his simple little babydoll dress. The babydoll silhouette is one I hate, but I love the detail of the black scalloped lace on the cups, and the black and silver striped fabric. The fabric is really what makes the dress work. He worries that his dress was too subtle.

Jack’s model Aviva looks darling in his black and white print sundress with an aqua sash. There is aqua trim at the edges of the bodice and around the neck, and when she turns around the back of the dress is completely bare. From the front it looks quite dainty, but the back has some va-va-va-voom. Like Jillian’s dress, you get a sense of his aesthetic as well.

Marion’s girl Cheron is saddled with an unfortunate assemblage of sheer black lace over a heavy, pointy skirt of what looks like menswear material — a heavy suiting gabardine or something. The top is sheer and corsety, but the skirt is heavy.

Stephen’s black suit comes out next, and it is immaculately tailored, with three frog closures and a little peplum skirt in the back of the jacket. His model Sam wiggles down the runway in her pencil skirt.

Finally: A PAIR OF PANTS! Carmen sends her girl Anna out in a pair of harem pants with bubble hems, a metallic brocade jacket with cap sleeves and a bright orange scarf at the neck. It’s very Studio 54-on-Mars, but it works.

Kit Pistol has created a strapless dress of fun black and gray print of big fat flowers, with an asymmetrical one-shouldered red jacket over top. Her model Marie is the only one with short hair. She’s very much a gamine.

Thank you Jesus, that’s it for the runway show. I’m in the home stretch now.


The first cull is Fat Chris, Derek Zoolander, Sweet P, Jillian, Jack, Marion, Steve, Carmen, and Kit. They’re safe. They all make relieved faces in the green room backstage.

Michael calls his Christian’s outfit “quirky tailored,” and Heidi says “It kinda grows on me.”

Nina rakes Simone over the coals for the construction of the dress, and Michael calls her jacket “soooo dressed in the dark.”

Rami is next. Monique says she thinks his dress was executed beautifully, but Michael, always the contrarian, calls the flower “a little MOB” — mother of the bride.

Nina asks Ricky to explain himself. She calls his dress “sweet, but very safe.” Michael kvetches about if the New York Times called his dress “nice.” Quelle horreur!

The judges unanimously like Victorya’s dress — they don’t have much to say about it, so Nina asks if Victorya has something she’d like to add.

And, finally, Elisa. Heidi asks her to tell the judges what her point of view is. Elisa can’t articulate herself so she uses a series of whistles, pops, and squeaks (really!) and the word “sylph-like” to describe her dress. It all sounds like bullshit to me. Nina and Heidi’s facial expressions are priceless; they’re both trying to hide their “is this bitch for real?” faces.


So the judges discuss whose outfit they liked and whose they hated. They all agree that Rami’s was tasteful and elegant, and Christian’s was remarkably good, although Nina thought his color choice was boring. Even though Ricky’s is well made, they think it lacks pizazz. But ultimately the decision comes down to Simone and Elisa’s dresses.


Christian is safe. Victorya is safe. Rami is the winner. Now it’s down to Elisa and Simone. Simone’s dress is poorly constructed. Elisa’s dress was badly edited. And unfortunately, Simone is auf wedersened. Even Elisa is shocked that she’s still standing.

And at almost 4800 words, I’m shocked I’m still working on this.

Next week: Clare and Elisa learn how to edit.



1. DougOLis - Wednesday, November 21, 2007


2. mingusmonk - Wednesday, November 21, 2007

Yep. That was pretty much the show. Word-for-word!

Seemed like there were a couple of ringers this season (Rami, Jillian, etc). But I have a suspicion that they might struggle breaking from the mold we saw from them in episode one.

3. Clare - Wednesday, November 21, 2007


Oooooh, ouch. Yeah, I deserve that for trying to write at TWOP-style recap.

But I have a suspicion that [Rami and Jillian] might struggle breaking from the mold we saw from them in episode one.

Good point. Can Rami make a tailored suit? Can Jillian make a pair of pants? We shall see…

4. SA - Wednesday, November 21, 2007

Eh, Rami’s dress was boring to me. Looks like something we’ve already seen on the red carpet. I really liked that Carmen did pants when everyone else did dresses.

5. highlifer - Thursday, November 22, 2007

I think Jillian’s have looked, to quote Christian, very hand-sewn.

I have decided to buck conventional wisdom and support Christian.

6. chicagometallic - Sunday, April 13, 2008

Which Simmons? I may confused.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: