After some touchy-feely keep-chasing-the-dream blather from Todd in which he thanks them for "allowing me this beautiful ringside seat at this incredible exploration of your creativity," we're introduced to the usual gang: Jonathan Adler and his fist-sized tie knot, Kelly Wearstler and her ever-frenetic wardrobe, and Margaret Russell, who has done nothing to be ashamed about over the past 10 episodes. Joining them this week is guest judge Trudie Styler, who you musically hep folks will recognize as Sting's wife. Mrs. Sting. Bride of Der Stingle. And what qualifies Lady Sting to judge the final competition of a design reality show? Well, Todd tells us she's an environmental and human-rights advocate and an award-winning film producer. Oh, and she's designed all eight of the houses that she and Sting own, and boy, I hope Todd means that over their lifetimes as opposed to currently. Because if the Stings currently own eight houses, then I have a tip on a way for Trudie to maybe jump-start that environmental advocacy she appears to be keen on: consume less shit. Seriously -- it would break my heart if Sting were first against the wall in the coming class war, especially if it were for a reason other than Ten Summoner's Tales. Anyhow, Adler tells them they'll be judged on overall design and execution -- pause for knowing laughter -- and then suggests everyone head over to the Santa Fe Lofts for a fun afternoon of picking apart someone else's work. "Judges," Jonathan asks. "Shall we motor?" We shall not. Not at all.
The dramatic strains of Music to Judge a Room By can only mean that the fearsome foursome has arrived in Carisa's loft. And we've had a lot of cruel laughs at Carisa's expense during this forced march together -- well, I've had some cruel laughs anyhow; I can't speak for you people --but she did a real nice job with the room. White and black are the dominant colors, from the floor to the furniture. There's a nice red wall in the dining area that really pops. And the black cubicles -- similar to the wind vent she did back in the hotel challenge -- really make the space look good. "I got really inspired by the architecture," Carisa explains. "Specifically, the leaded glass windows that were in the shape of squares. And I wanted to repeat that motif throughout." Carisa's inspiration? Inexplicably, the movie Big. "Just a creative environment that is adaptable and great for entertaining and blasting music real loud and hanging out or working or jumping on a bed," she says. But what about the giant piano to dance on, Carisa? I don't happen to see one of those. I do see the bed pit, however, and, even more horrifying, I see Jonathan Adler tumbling into it and flashing the other judges what I guess he figures is a "come hither" look. I would describe it more as a "Go thither... go very far thither. I don't think you are thither enough yet. Maybe you should just call yourself a cab" look. We also get to watch Margaret Russell test out the bed, followed by Trudie Styler, who jots down some notes. I can't quite make out her writing, but I assume she's scrawled something like, "Boy, Sting and I could have tantric sex for, like, eight hours on this thing." Carisa's kitchen is... present, and her bathroom appears adequate, too -- the blinds reflect on the mirror in such a way to give the reflection a Picasso painting feel, which is not the first image I'd want to see after a night of debauchery on my sunken bed pit. That ping-pong table we saw earlier is actually a desk, and it doubles as a dining table; sadly, there is no skeeball alley that doubles as a breakfast nook.