THE VOICE OF CHICAGO'S GAY, LESBIAN, BI, TRANS AND QUEER COMMUNITY SINCE 1985

Let's try on Confessions of a Shopaholic for size. The movie's set in Manhattan and follows the exploits of a fashion-mad young lady journalist who dreams of working at the world's top fashion magazine. Sounds sorta like an episode of TV's Ugly Betty meets The Devil Wears Prada meets Sex & the City, right? Not surprisingly, Confessions has plot strands from those three sources, shares the same costume designer ( the magenta-haired Patricia Field, who has a nice cottage industry going for herself ) and was also based on a chick-lit best-seller.

But in place of feisty Sarah Jessica Parker/Anne Hathaway/America Ferrera or even Reese Witherspoon in the two Legally Blonde pictures, Confessions gives us a dumb leading lady"one Rebecca Bloomwood. Her personal credo is "a man will never treat you as well as a store," and she's charged enough clothes to bury herself in an avalanche of bills. She's not a hoarder of cartons of toilet paper or someone who must have the latest household gadget, like the rolling Amish fireplace or the Clapper"she's only a shopaholic when it comes to clothes and fashion accessories. ( She loves fashion the way I love movies. )

Rebecca's played by Isla Fisher ( who is easily confused with Amy Adams ) , a talented comedic actress who could have used fresher material"much fresher. Is there a gay character making snarky comments and swooning over something with a designer label? Check. Is there a dreamboat patiently standing by? Check ( diminutive Hugh Dancy ) . Is there a host of eccentric supporting characters played by top-drawer actors? Check ( Joan Cusack, John Goodman, Julie Hagerty, John Lithgow, Kristin Scott Thomas, Lynn Redgrave, etc. ) . Will our heroine be forced to examine her values and, perhaps, choose between fashion and love or maybe, just maybe get to keep both? Check.

Confessions suffers from these and other familiar conceits and because it comes so closely on the heels of these other fashion-centric movies it seems but a pale imitation ( at best ) of those that have stalked the catwalk ahead of it. Director P.J. Hogan, who hasn't had much luck at the box office since 1997 My Best Friend's Wedding ( though his 2002 film Unconventional Love, with Kathy Bates and Rupert Everett, is worth a look ) does his best with the tissue-thin material and finds some originality here and there ( the store window mannequins beckoning to the leading lady, for example ) but the movie's "fashion is all" mantra has worn as thin as a sheer negligee. One can see right through this nonsense and the body underneath, while not quite anorexic, certainly could use some sustenance. Confessions of a Shopaholic is about as fresh as that shopworn metaphor.

Eleven Minutes, which follows the creation of gay designer Jay McCarroll's debut collection for New York's fashion week in the summer of 2007 isn't all that fresh, either. In many ways the film, which follows McCarroll"forever identified as the first season winner of the Project Runway reality show"is simply a poor man's version of Unzipped, the 1995 documentary that focused on Isaac Mizrahi as he got his all-important collection ready. Both designers ( and films ) focus on their subjects as they go about the business of creating a saleable collection on a deadline. But though both have a tendency to kvetch ( Mizrahi, big-time ) , McCarroll doesn't have a tenth of the resources that Mizrahi did, which makes Eleven Minutes ( which refers to the length of the runway presentation that comes after a year of preparation ) much more compelling and entertaining.

Forced to rely on his talents and the kindness of friends and strangers who share his vision ( some, hoping to cash in along with him ) , McCarroll's personality comes front and center. Droll and funny, sometimes bitchy, he's not as testy; he's more down to earth and doesn't display the diva-like behavior his advance press would have one believe. McCarroll is joined in his quest by a batch of creative kindred spirits"a jewelry designer, a tough but valued publicist and a shoemaker who gives new meaning ( and anxiety ) to the word "deadline." There's a real, "hey kids, let's put on a show" air to the film ( co-directed by Michael Selditch and Robert Tate ) that is quite winning.

Eleven Minutes offers a great primer on the large pitfalls and transitory triumphs of New York's fashion business and has a great subject in the tenacious and very talented McCarroll. The movie premiered in Chicago last fall at the Reeling Film Fest ( with McCaroll in attendance ) and has been playing theatrical dates around the country, though Chicago hasn't been scheduled yet. But the film can be seen exclusively on Here! TV Friday, Feb. 20, and will no doubt end up on DVD at some latter date.

"More fashion: A shirt, suit and tie designed by Danny Glicker and worn by Sean Penn in the title role in Milk, Gus Van Sant's tremendous biopic of slain gay civil-rights activist Harvey Milk, is being auctioned off for a host of charities including the Hetrick-Martin Institute, home of the Harvey Milk High School in New York City. The auction is underway at www.clothesoffourback.org ( bidding is at $4,500 as I write this ) and concludes Feb. 28.

Check out my archived reviews at www.windycitytimes.com or www.knightatthemovies.com . Readers can leave feedback at the latter Web site.