By Sarah D. Bunting

Inspired by Mark’s Project Runway: Bitches spin-off, in which he suggested that Product Runway: Crazypants might also make an excellent series, I’ve taken a stroll down memory lane with a few of the most memorably bazoo contestants (and one model) in the show’s history. The current season hasn’t had much mental illness on display, but as Mark also mentioned, the current season, which concludes tomorrow, is relatively dull, and the focus on plain pants instead of kookoopants might explain why.

I can’t say I miss any of these designers, exactly, but the show seems to need a sprinkling of nuts in order to work at the top of its game, and the occasional sob from Christopher Straub just doesn’t cut it when compared to squirrels like Daniel F. …Oh, Daniel F.

Ready to cast PR: Crazypants? Let’s get started; I’ll see you in the comments.

Contestant: Wendy Pepper (see above)

Season: 1

Diagnosis: Delusions of grandeur; hysterical blindness.

I don’t know if we have hard evidence as to who drew that mustache on the photo of Wendy’s kid. Conventional wisdom seems to have decided that it’s Kevin Johnn, but whoever defaced the little Pepper must have known that doing so would prompt a meltdown — and that the audience would side with the artist, instead of with Wendy.

Do I condone graffiti-ing pictures of children? No. Did I snort in disbelief when Wendy snuffled self-pityingly that she had nobody on her side? Yes. In fact, at the time, I concurred with my esteemed colleague Linda Holmes that Wendy might well have markered the photo herself in an attempt to cast aspersions on another designer and/or bathe herself in a martyred glow. And yet, despite the fact that we as viewers found that perfectly credible, Wendy herself didn’t seem to understand why anyone would behave so hatefully towards her. …Really, Wendy? After the snotty comments, standoffish behavior, and weird pacing around by yourself?

Then again, what did I expect from a woman whose personal styling choices evidently proceeded directly from a community-theater production of What Ever Happened to Baby Jane?. The clogs, the unaimed smear of red lipstick, the “Pat Benatar, Warrior Princess” shadow and blush during the reunion episode… her designs entirely aside, this is not the maquillage of a sane individual.

Contestant: Ricky Lizalde

Season: 2 4

Diagnosis: Depression.

Who does depression hurt? …Everyone (who watched Ricky dissolve into a puddle over and over again).

The flattering view of Ricky’s constant weeping is that he’s a man in close touch with his emotions, who’s not afraid to show his vulnerabilities.

Less flattering views include: Ricky couldn’t handle the stress of the production; Ricky used tears to manipulate the judges and his fellow designers; Ricky wore his collection of club hats too tight.

It’s probably that first thing, but Ricky made Season 2′s often-leaky Andrae Gonzalo look like an icy robot by comparison. Andrae cried a few times, on the runway, but Ricky cried at ehhh-verything — during interviews, in the sewing room, on behalf of women who had lost weight in the “What’s The Skinny?” challenge, because he loved candy, when he won, when he landed in the bottom three, just for funsies, you name it.

The only times he didn’t bawl: when Jack Mackenroth had to leave the show to get medical treatment, which everyone else found pretty upsetting, but which Ricky greeted by donning a pair of pumps; and when he got eliminated. Buh?

Contestant: Keith Michael

Season: 3

Diagnosis: Arrested development; delusions of persecution.

Keith Michael had talent; he won the first challenge of S3, got immunity on the next one, and probably would have won the third if, per Heidi, he hadn’t declined to make the doggie outfit for the “Designer’s Best Friend” challenge.

I’d have refused to make the canine couture too — it was irrelevant and contrived, and I can see how a designer would feel frustrated by it — but that incident was part of a larger pattern in which Keith thought rules didn’t apply to him. Keith brought pattern books with him, when the contract the designers sign clearly states that that isn’t allowed. He also went off-site and used the internet, and that isn’t allowed either.

Bending the rules isn’t crazy; continuing to lawyer on about it when you’ve plainly gotten busted, to the point where you start to seem a little simple, is on the bazoo side. Keith’s story explaining the presence of the books changed about twenty times; he claimed he’d only gone AWOL because he’d already decided to leave the production; he blamed other designers for a scuffle at a photo shoot; he blamed the editing for making him look bad.

Again: it’s not that he tried to game the system and got caught. But I got the sense that he actually believed his version of events, in which a series of improbable coincidences led to a JFK-sized frame-up. Crazy!

Contestant: Vanessa Riley

Season: 1

Diagnosis: Tourette’s with alcohol involvement.

Vanessa got very drunk on the S1 reunion episode, and informed Wendy that everyone felt sorry for her because she was “such a terrible designer”; spilled her wine on the floor; slurred at Austin to stop harming her sales numbers by talking about her bad sewing; and made such a horse’s ass out of herself that everyone forgot that that was supposed to be Wendy’s role.

When confronted by her fellow designers about a super-bitter interview she allegedly gave slagging other contestants, Vanessa announced that she didn’t want to be there, and stormed off the stage. Adios, nutbar.

Contestant: Daniel Vosovic

Season: 2

Diagnosis: Self-destructive tendencies.

I loved Daniel V. during his season — the cute topknot, the argyle, the “motherfuckin’ walk-off” line — but when I read Tim Gunn’s interview with The Chicago Tribune‘s Mo Ryan, I thought DV had lost it.

You can read the entire story at the link above — and to his credit, Daniel has pulled it together since then — but Tim told Mo that Daniel had become a “diva,” started giving the press tone, and refused a job at Michael Kors. Tim deemed this behavior “unattractive,” which is typically gracious of him; I’m going with “crazy,” because it’s one thing to act like the fashion world is lucky to have you — but if Tim Gunn has advised you repeatedly to knock that shit off, and you keep doing it anyway, you’re a loon.

Contestant: Elisa Jimenez

Season: 4

Diagnosis: Hippie; head trauma.

It’s possible that Elisa’s whiffiness wasn’t her fault; she revealed during one interview that she’d gotten hit by a car and cracked her head open, which presumably allowed the goofy faerie-speak and ideas about “blessing marks” (Elisa’s cutesy term for the spit spots she used to mark for cutting) to rush in unimpeded.

Further proof that Elisa is perhaps “touched” — she later claimed that fellow contestants Victorya Hong and Kit Pistol taught her the sewing machine, “like not to be afraid of it.” Doesn’t it seem like prior to the show is a better time to confront that fear? Since Elisa actually got cast on the…first season, and dropped out due to a “scheduling conflict” (read: “couldn’t get her deposit back from the ashram”)? Also, it’s…a sewing machine?

Model: Morgan Quinn, a.k.a. “Morgaaaaanza”

Season: 1

Diagnosis: Champagne poisoning.

The gorgeous and volatile Morgan is the single reason I had hope for Models of the Runway; I suspect that Morgan is the single reason PR‘s producers have continued to incorporate the models into the show. Alas, no other model has caused quite the delicious level of drama that Morgan effortlessly created -=- wearing Kevin’s design to the clubs and dicking it up; driving Jay nuts on the wedding-dress challenge; giving Kara Saun agita with her tardiness because her mom failed to wake her up on time, then crying on Wendy Pepper’s shoulder. (No: really.) Oh, and she yelled at a cameraperson. Professional!

So who’s really crazy: flaky Morgan, or the designers who kept picking her? I can’t blame the designers; girlfriend could really work the clothes.

Contestant: Jeffrey Sebelia

Season: 3

Diagnosis: Anger-management issues; delusions.

First of all: the neck tattoo. Come on, guy. Ew.

Second of all: what kind of foolio treats another contestant’s mother like dog shit on his Ed Hardy sneaker and thinks that’s going to go over well? Yeah, yeah, the producers seemingly designed the challenge solely to create tension, which is irritating, and I disliked Angela Keslar and her whiny mom pretty intensely, so I kind of felt Jeffrey there — but his anger at Darlene stemmed almost entirely from her failure to have model measurements.

Look, I get it. He wasn’t used to working with “real”-sized women; it’s no excuse to act like a sociopathic mama’s boy. Claiming that Darlene is setting him up to fail, telling her he doesn’t “appreciate” her “even standing” near him, talking over her, and crying like a little bitch to his own mom about how he got jobbed — when he wasn’t even eliminated — indicates an estrangement from reality.

Contestant: Daniel Franco
Season: 1 & 2 (and we’re not convinced we’ve seen the last of him)
Diagnosis: Sunstroke.

Ah yes, Weirdissimo Franco. The first contestant ever eliminated on Project Runway, Daniel F. bade us farewell on the series premiere with this:

“If you believe in theatrics, then there are a lot of designers [here] for you to choose from. However, you know, if you believe in honor, dignity, integrity…if you believe in artistic credence and if you believe in artistic honesty and if you believe in following your bliss, then I’m Daniel Franco and [hand extended] I’d like to wish you bliss.”

Could he leave it at that? No; no, he could not. He had to come back for the second season, talk about bliss some more, and get eliminated early again.

Sarah D. Bunting is the rodeo queen at TomatoNation.com. She still misses Kayne a little bit.