OhMyGod. Probably at least one of us should be watching the road, but those shoes are literally EVERYthing.
OhMyGod. So I bought these new candles for my office that smell just like Brad Goreski. I miss that little scamp.
OhMyGod. I can’t.
OhMyGod. Skinny White Boy so funny. Hair boner look like Flintstone baby.
OhMyGod. Bitch stole my look. Justin Bieber literally just got new bangs.
OhMyGod. Why didn’t I think of this before? Anne Hathaway’s gonna own this look at next year’s Oscars.
OhMyGod. Bitch, pleez. I’ve been putting underwear on my head since junior high, if you know what I mean.
If you’re looking for a place to hang that will instantly make you feel as though you’re not pretty enough or rich enough, and don’t stand a chance of ever being pretty enough or rich enough, than you’ve come to the right place.
Welcome to Rachel Zoe‘s kitchen.
This week The Rachel Zoe Project kicked off with a quick Show & Tell presentation of Sky Sky Berman‘s latest designer baby clothes assortment, all laid out like some perversely overpriced Kiwanis Flea Market across two countertops and a sink.
Little half girl/mostly boy Sky Sky does like his Gucci and his Burberry.
Or so Mom says. Probably not as much as Mom likes buying them, as evidenced by Rachel’s continuously looped shopaholic squeal as hanger after hanger passed by for approval. But the kid has no problem making poo in the fancy stuff. OhMyGod…is there anything cuter? Umm. No.
Whereas most of us would not even be able to cover that much square footage in the kitchen with actual food, Rachel proudly dumped an entire season’s worth of wardrobe all over the marble counter as Rodger stood back watching the money drain from his checkbook faster than the blood from his face.
While quiet newbie Intern Co, who’s a friendly mix of Harvard geek and nail salon tech, chilled on the other side of the counter, Rodger tried to impress on Rachel how wasteful all her purchases were, considering that little Goy Sky Sky was most likely going to outgrow the stuff long before it transitioned into the Vintage Couture category.
But it didn’t matter, because she wanted it, along with a bonus crocodile clutch that had somehow made it unnoticed into the Baby Gap shopping bag.
Plus, Rodger was getting fat.
Her words, not mine. True dat though, because the only thing not growing on Rodger’s body right now seems to be that over-the-hill surfer dude haircut.
Seriously. How long does it take to grow out your bangs, dude? It’s like Time just stood still and froze your follicles midstream. Cut It. Or Grow It. End of Story.
And speaking of. Rachel’s new bangs were still quite an issue this week, as she futzed and putzed with them every chance she got. Even on her road trip with Mandana to see a newly unveiled RZ/Jockey shapewear billboard, she was still having some issues.
As they ran every light on Hollywood & Vine, Rachel was wearing the same eyeglass frames that the tiny superhero costume designer wore in Pixar’s The Incredibles, so I’m pretty sure that’s why she seemed to be having so much facial drama. Cartoon glasses AND new bangs. It’s a lot to deal with at one time. You have no idea.
In an effort to revive the Jockey brand, Rachel had joined forces with the company for the billboard, as well as some upcoming video shoots. Despite having her own reality television show, Rachel was not a big fan of being front and center. Or so she claimed.
The thought of seeing herself on the side of a 10 story building had RZ a bit tightly wound, especially knowing that the billboard had been created back in the paleolithic Pre-Bang Era and that soon we would all be gawking at a 2 story tall forehead.
As Mandana took both hands off the wheel and glanced anywhere but into oncoming traffic, Marisa was back in the office talking to The Man From Jockey, who had called to confirm the video shoot and to let everyone know that Rachel was going to have to read some pretty big words off a teleprompter.
New bangs. Big glasses. And now reading? Rachel only loves 2 of those 3 things, by the way. This should be good.
While the girls were out looking for the monster billboard, the other girl(s) were in town shopping for some office fluff. Rodger wanted to finish up the decor in his special internet surfing/company running office, so he snagged the other Rachel, ”Silbs“ Silberman, for a quick candle shopping excursion.
Most people would hit up Office Depot or the newest Container Store, but Rog ain’t Most People. So it was off to Candles ‘R Us for a few lightly scented supplies and some overly dramatic hair tosses. Don’t try this around open flames, kids.
And then the angels sang and a choir burst into the Hallelujah chorus.
The Godzilla Rachel Billboard.
Mandana was all like OhMyGod. Rachel was all like Don’tMakeMeLook…but while we’re here take an iPhone photo and make sure you get the whole thing in the viewfinder.
And then they went back to the office, to find a note from President Barrack Obama.
I know, right? Obama watches Bravo TV. Shut the White House front door.
Rachel was pretty excited to hear from POTUS (…Twitter lingo, cuz we’re hip like dat…) and even sent a photo of the note to The Man From Elle Magazine. His name is actually Joe Zee, but TMFEM also looks way cooler on Twitter, especially since everyone always confuses Joe Zee with Jay-Z. And he hates that.
Even though one is an Asian women’s magazine guy and the other one…isn’t.
Joe-Z (…ok, now I’m just messin’ wid u…) wanted Rachel to style the April Intelligent Woman issue, creating a number of different looks based on all the jobs a busy woman like herself could relate to nowadays. And then Rachel got ink on her desk blotter and the Earth pretty much boinked off its axis for a second.
OhMyGod. Literally, the end of the world.
Luckily, Rodger was spared the trauma of having to try and unsee the horror of ink actually coming into contact with an ink blotter, because he was out on the golf course with his buddy Marc, whacking a bucket o’ balls and getting in some girl talk.
They stayed out long enough to discuss how Rachel was a reluctant celebrity, how Rodger needed to make a bigger deal about the Godzilla Board and how badly Rodger sucked at golf.
Then it was back to the RZ Offices, where Rachel was spilling all the Elle Magazine deetz to Styling Associate Eileen. The shoot was going to be all about strong women and how they can bring fashion into their everyday lives, as long as they have a rack of loaner clothes from Theory and a professional Hollywood stylist on speed dial.
As Eileen scooted out the door to start stripping down every boutique in town for clothes and accessories, Rachel was left at her desk just looking at the ink blot in her sunglasses. Which, once again, made me wonder how these Hollywood people do it.
Wear sunglasses inside all the time, I mean. I really need to brush up on sunglass etiquette. If you wear them in the club at night, you’re either PDiddy or a DoucheBag. I know that. But if you wear them in your office or your home, now you’re ZoeCool I Can’t Stand It? Even if you can’t see anything?
I always wondered how Michael Kors could sit through Fashion Week in those dark tents wearing his sunglasses the entire time, and then get back to the office and even remember what color the collection was trending towards.
Maybe it’s just me. But I can’t even get up at 3am to refill my sippy cup without getting lost in my own hallway, so I have no idea how Rachel works a toaster oven in shades and a fur vest. It’s a gift, I guess.
After emptying out half the boutiques on The Strip, it was time for the Elle Magazine shoot.
There were a number of outfits, and loads of photos being taken. But all that really mattered was that my boy Joey Maalouf was back in the hizzle! And nobody can work a designer fanny pack and a mini Pebbles hairdo like JM.
You know when Moms insist on giving their newborns that little top of the head ponytail even though the tiny nuggets were just born and don’t have enough hair to make a statement? Even with a plastic Hello Kitty bow? And then it usually pops off and you step on it at the Clam Shack with your bare feet or the kid eats it when it falls into the stroller while Mom’s yakking on her cell?
Joey had that kind of thing going on up there, as only Joey could. It wasn’t long enough to tie a bow around, and definitely not straight enough to pick up free HBO. So I’m not really sure what it was all about. But it was Joey. And that’s really all that mattered.
On the final shot, Rachel couldn’t decide on which outfit to use, so Joe-Z suggested that she join the model on the shoot and kill two birds with one stone. Naturally, Rachel was grossly uncomfortable and had a brief little hissy fit, but she managed to run to the makeup chair like she had just seen a Mall Santa with no kids in line.
And of course, no photo shoot would be complete without the arrival of little Goy Sky Sky and his trademarked photo shoot dance. He can’t use a toilet yet, but the kid knows how to twerk it and pick out the most expensive Chanel bracelet. Werk.
Finally, it was off to the Jockey shapewear shoot, where the studio was filled with nothing but undies and cue cards.
But no Rachel or Joey. They ended up being taken to the wrong studio by their driver.
Following a few moments of over the top dramz (…Seriously. They just took the wrong ramp, they didn’t go careening off a bridge into the Pacific Ocean…) they eventually made it to the correct location and got right down to bidnezz.
After a 20 minute board meeting and one overseas conference call on what to do with Rachel’s new bangs, they finally got the show on the road. Moving military cargo into position can not be as difficult as figuring out how to style those damn bangs. No way.
Let’s go, people. Time is money.
Here’s a newsflash: Rachel doesn’t do very well when she can’t just wing it.
No, ma’am. No, she don’t.
Having to read off a teleprompter and make sentences without using the words Maj and Dying and Literally nearly sent her to the emergency room. Literally. And it’s not like anyone was asking her to read War & Peace.
More like “This panty holds your fat a** nice and tight. I’m Rachel Zoe.”
But no such luck.
RZ tripped all over her words. Got nervous. Tripped some more. Got flustered. Put a thong on her head, because it seemed like the thing to do at the time (…I think we’ve all been there…) and basically turned a 30 minute video cut into a full day of time and a half union work.
At the end of the day, Jockey was happy. Elle Magazine was happy. Rachel didn’t have to say the word ‘cheeky.’ And Joey was back.
No decisions were made on New York apartments or growing out bangs. There’s only so much one person can handle in a day.
And Godzilla Rachel is still watching over us, making certain that everyone’s outfits are properly accessorized and that all their junk is nicely squeezed into some Jockey.
On sale at Macy’s through the end of the month.
OhMyGod. I love sales.