Okay, this season I’ve been trying to be good about spoilers, but this time I just can’t hold myself back.



Let’s all take a moment for a dance of joy.

Now that that’s taken care of, what the hell happened last night, HGTV?  Does anyone really want to see a wedding reception decorated in a day and a half?  No.  Will a wedding reception decorated in a day and a half look like anything other than ass?  No.  Was it even interesting?  Hell, no.

If I sound a little cranky about it, I am.  While putting Phoebe to bed last night, I felt so exhausted I just wanted to go to bed myself.  I looked at Jeb and asked, “Are any of our shows coming on tonight?” to which he replied, “Yours.”  Oh, right.  Design Star. When one of your biggest fans doesn’t even remember that you’re on TV, you know you’ve got a problem.

I dragged my butt downstairs out of sheer obligation.  I was rewarded with this dreckitude:

Karl Sponholtz' fugly flower arrangement.

Karl Sponholtz' fugly flower arrangement.



Cathy Hobbs' disastrous sweetheart table, designed for the bride and groom.

The orange draping was a cool element, but not particularly original.


Certainly nothing worthy of fighting over, Karl.

The bar was the best part of the whole effort:



But honestly, it’s not like anyone on the show built the bar or conceived of the bar.  Having the eye and the vision to pick it out of a room full of furniture is a skill, for sure, but if you ask me, watching people shop makes for boring TV unless you’re offering tips along the way about why you select the things you take home.

Now I’m gonna go rogue here and say I hated the gentlemen’s lounge.




Don’t get me wrong, I’ll take the sofa and the chairs and some of those pendant lights and we will live happily ever after, yessiree.  But they have no relationship at all with the rest of the room’s decor.  I know, I know, the groom said he wanted dark woods, yadda, yadda, yadda.  I’m totally down with that.  To make it work though, it needs to be integrated better.  Some of these wood and mid-century elements need to be happening elsewhere in the space and some of that white nonsense needs to be happening here.  The rug is not enough.

Also, I hate the boxy pillows.  I like the idea of them but they do not say, “comfortable.” They look awkward on both the chair and the sofa.

When everything throughout the space is matchy-matchy and then you throw this eclectic mishmash of pillows and pendants into the mix, they just don’t look like they belong.  At. All. I don’t know why the judges don’t say anything about this.  Or, rather, I don’t know why Genevieve Gorder doesn’t say anything about this.  We already know the train has left the designer station with Vern Yip.

This episode was not worth watching. Except for that part at the end where the remaining cast members pretend to wish Cathy well.  That is a laugh riot.

I feel sorry for Cathy, I really do.  It’s mind-blowing that someone with all of the talent and experience she possesses can be undone by poor behavior.  After 20 years of on-camera experience, she should know better.  She should be more savvy than the average designtestant.  She should have come onto that set with the prize in her back pocket.  But since she obviously has no clue about what makes a good designer host, let me spell it out for her:


1.  Likability. If you want to be one of Bravo’s Real Housewives, you can be very successful being a bitch on TV, but if you want America to watch your decorating show or to seek out your decorating tips and advice, it is all about making people love you. And Cathy, it is very hard to love you when you are bitchy and bossy to everyone.  The fact that you–a total control freak–can’t control those impulses on camera or even seem to know that you should…well, it doesn’t speak very highly to your intelligence.

2.  Confidence. To be the voice of authority, you have to have confidence in your abilities.  There hasn’t been a single team-oriented episode all season that Cathy hasn’t been screaming, “Trust me!” or “I’ve got this!”  Beating people over the head with your accomplishments (THREE NATIONAL MAGAZINES!) or begging them to trust you, reveals a lack of true confidence.

3.  Design Chops. With the exception of Vern, you have to create gorgeous, telegenic spaces to nab a spot on design television.  I like most of Cathy’s portfolio, but I haven’t liked anything she’s done on the show.  Nothing. Not even the slightest moment.  She’s done nothing original or inspiring–or even vaguely appealing–with her fifteen minutes.

4. A Sellable POV. Your show needs a unique point of view to differentiate it from the bazillion other shows on TV.  Cathy wants to use world travel as inspiration for design, and it’s a good idea–just ask HGTV landscape designer Jamie Durie.  Jamie’s approachable style celebrates exotic destinations–and travel itself–whereas Cathy name-drops global locales, coming off as a pretentious bore.  Jamie’s approach says, “Come with me to Africa–let’s explore it together!”  Cathy’s attitude says, “The Serengeti…I’ve been there and you haven’t!”

5.  Attractiveness. If you want a lasting TV career, it pays to tone down the crazy eye and a gummy smile.  I don’t say this to poke fun at anyone’s personal appearance–no one should be ridiculed over physical flaws.  But there are some physical attributes that can prove distracting, and if you want people to notice your mad skills, you don’t want them getting hung up on exaggerated facial features.

Please, gawd, let next week’s episode be better or I may not be able to hang in there much longer.