DanThat'sCool!

 

 

 

OhMyGod. I don’t think you’d need that much Purell to ride the real NeNe.

 

 

 

 

 

 

OhMyGod. Chillax. It’s not lipstick on my teeth, it’s red Crayola. I’m a dude.

 

 

 

 

OhMyGod. Don’t be such a babe, Babe. It’s just a reaction to the manscape wax.

 

 

 

 

 

 

OhMyGod. I know, right? How hot is that purse? I almost kept it for myself.

 

 

 

 

 

OhMyGod. Srsly. Where is the app for the ejector seat? This bitch hasn’t shut up since LAX.

 

 

 

 

 

OhMyGod. OhMyGod. OhMyGod. OhMyGod. OhMyGod.

 

 

 

 

 

OhMyGod. I just got that manscape joke. So completely the opposite of funny.

 

 

 

 

oh mon dieu.

Je vais mourir.  Littéralement mourir.

Look it it up, kids…because The Rachel Zoe Project just went Internationale.

As in: Paris.

New York Fashion Week has already come and gone faster than last season’s hemline.

Been there.  Done that.

The City of Love is the New Black.  So you knew Rachel & Company would pack up a few of those Titanic cargo crates and head across the pond to Paris Fashion Week to get their gawk on asap.  If Rachel could ever finish packing, that is.

We started this week out with a scene from Chanel Hoarders as Rachel combed rolling rack after rolling rack for the perfect Parisian wardrobe.  And accessories.  And shoes.

She needed to be able to morph back and forth between her multiple fashion personalities with ease, which meant she would need to bring her Stylist Hat, her Designer Hat, her Obsessive Shopping Hat and at least 4 OhMyGod I Just Got My Bangs Cut Hats.  And 7 turned out to be the lucky number.

Suitcases, that is.

Whereas the rest of us poor people would simply shove 7 pairs of underwear and our fat pants into a carry-on and call it a day, Rachel needed 7 full suitcases.  Just because.

Even without his ever present iPhone 5 calculator, Rodger quickly realized that the additional airline fees they were about to incur would easily pay for two of the air control towers that the Government just shut down this week, and he wasn’t happy.

That new crazy Jekyll & Hyde hair he’s been rocking made it look like he was just about to blow a maj nutty on Rachel, but it never happened.  I think that whacky coif is starting to mess with my head, too.

You don’t need a Just In Case raincoat, lady.  Look at the Effing weather report.  Rodger said Effing a lot this week, like when a little boy learns a new swear word at school and uses it over and over until someone spanks him.

After loading up the plane with all of Rachel’s luggage and then draining out half the fuel tank and kicking off the co-pilot so the thing could actually get off the ground, they headed to Paris for some runway shows.

No sleep.  Just runway shows.

And speaking of jet lag.

Two things that drive me crazy: Squeaky Laryngitis Voice and Bad Editing.  Yup.  Rachel lost her voice.  And her fashion continuity.

As Rachel and Rodger bickered and pickered on each other during the entire limo ride to the Marc Jacobs/Louis Vuitton show, look at what they were wearing.  Memorize it.

Now unless the driver pulled over at Le Gulf statión and they changed in the bathroom, I can’t explain how they both got out of the limo in a different outfits.

Who knows.  The way Rodger was flinging around his grandé Starbucks and complaining about excessive airline surcharges, I suppose there is a chance that he could have hosed them both down with espresso. thus requiring a quick back seat Prom Night clean up.

But I doubt it.  I’m leaning more towards nobody paying attention in the booth.

And knowing that they brought a combined 8 suitcases between the two of them, I can’t imagine that they just kept wearing their two favorite outfits over and over again.  That, and the fact that the first set of outfits made another appearance later in the episode on what sounded like the same day.

Or maybe Rachel really does have a Time Machine now and they really did keep jumping back and forth through the Time & Space Continuum to ensure that they didn’t miss any A-List shows.  That, like Marc Jacobs himself, would be unfathomable.

Ok.  Done venting.

The Jacobs show was a big a** production complete with Mall of America escalators and so many models that Rachel was literally rendered temporarily mute by the out of body experience.

OhMyGod.  So emotional.  I can’t.  I just can’t.

Apparently while I was in the kitchen getting snacks, the new Pope or a never before seen religious deity had come down the escalator in the finale, because Rachel couldn’t even talk about it after the fact.

I just can’t.

Then it was off to the Giambattista Valli show.

Air kisses and more air kisses.  Rachel even went back in for two more cheek pumps after she had already walked away from Giamby.

Not to be confused with Jambi, of course.  That was Pee Wee Herman‘s genie.

Then Rachel and Rodger, in one of their Time Machine outfits, headed to a meeting with their International Sale Rep Polly King.  And just in case her W-2 job title had you completely dumbfounded, Rodger quickly stepped in to explain that Polly was in charge of repping their sales internationally.

Oooooh.  Now I get it.

Turns out that a number of items from Rachel’s Spring line never made it to Polly’s showroom, and that’s not good.  Especially when some of the MIA pieces are Rachel’s faves.  Polly want a maxi?

Good, cuz nobody else does.  Snap.

Back at the hotel, Rodger suddenly came down with either chicken pox, measles, bed bug bites or an allergic reaction to those long wool scarves he’s been dangling around in lately.  Whatever it was, it was itchy and red and so drama-filled that we both needed a Benadryl by the end of his death bed performance.  Those pink spots were Effed up.

Luckily Rodger survived to see another day, so next stop…the Valentino show.

That’s the show where Rachel gets kind of emotional and obsessed and can never pick a favorite.  Which is exactly what she said about another show during New York Fashion Week.  Literally.  What she said.  Ban-nan-as, I tell you.

She also literally thought that she may have cried during the Valentino show.  But she either didn’t know fo’ sho’ or couldn’t remember.  Really?

What is this fluid streaming out from under my new bangs?  This hair is confusing me again.  Why are bangs so Effing confusing?  Babe?

Then it was time to ride some NeNe.  Or so I thought.

No secret that I do love me some Real Housewives of Atlanta.  Especially Ms. Leakes.

She’s very rich, you know.

Unfortunately, it was the wrong NeNe.  False alarm.

Sister Pamela did a quick drive-by and dropped little baby Goy Berman off at the park so Rachel and Rodger could spend some quality SkySky Time together.

That’s right.  Skyler and Auntie Pammy were in Paris!  And SkySky wanted to ride the carousel.

The one with the Neigh Neighs.  The merry-go-round horses.

So no NeNe riding tonight, boys.  Sorry.

OhMyGod.  The carousel.

Maybe it was Rachel’s 8 inch Louboutins.  Or her past imaginary bout with vertigo.  Or the fact that she didn’t seem to realize that merry-go-rounds actually…I don’t know…go ’round, maybe?

OhMyGod.  Don’t ever take that bitch sky diving if this is how she’s going to react to a carousel.  OhMyGod.  OhMyGod.  OhMyGod.

You would have sworn that thing was spinning around like one of those high tech centrifuges that split atoms in a nuclear research lab.  It was as out of control as her new bangs.

She actually died a little.  A few times.

Only the fumes from an industrial sized pop-top bottle of Purell could revive her.  Luckily, since the birth of The Burberry Baby, Rachel had developed quite a few germaphobic tendencies and never leaves the house without big googly oogly sunglasses and hand sanitizer.

Everything that she and SkySky could potentially come in contact with got a thick coat of Purell, which is ironic considering that Rachel built her entire fashion empire by dressing celebrities who don’t wear underwear on the Red Carpet.  Whatev.

But babies will be babies, and stylists will be stylists.  So after SkySky had digested a couple of non-toxic Crayolas, it was time to hit the Chanel show.

This was the show that literally feels like the First Time…every time.  And this time it had gigantic wind turbines that spun almost as fast as the Carousel of Doom and could probably have kept the Superbowl stadium lights on after Beyoncé‘s half-time show.

And then there was Karl Lagerfeld.  With the wildest, widest matchy-matchy tie and shirt combination that Paris has ever seen.  Air kiss.  Air kiss.  Dying.

As Rachel headed off to who knows where to sanitize who know what, Rodger and his international BFF William met up to do a little lady shopping.  Rodger needed to pick up a little sumthin sumthin for Rachel, and only William’s superpowered StyleEye could laser beam straight to the Best.  Purse.  Ever.

If it was possible for two men to have a little schwing over a vintage pocketbook, it happened in that little boutique.  Scha-wing.

We’ll always have Paris, Bill.

Then it was off to the Van Cleef & Arpels museum jewelry preview, which was being held in what I believe was the USS Enterprise Holodeck from the second Star Trek television series.

I swear.  Nothing but clear acrylic vacuum sealed tubes with magically floating jewelry that looked like the pipes that used to shoot down hot soup whenever Captain Picard got hungry.  It was pretty sweet, and I kind of wanted one for my action figures.

Our favorite Makeup Boy Joey Maalouf was there too, but he wasn’t allowed to speak or touch anything.  Just like last time.  Whassupwidat?  Do I have to start an online petition or something to force Bravo into lifting the gag order and letting Joey be fabulous again?  Because I will.

Dude has way too many scarves to not get some air time.

After beaming down from the Enterprise, Rachel and Rodger headed to the Elie Saab show and then on to a Nicholas Kirkwood shoe orgy.

Which was really more like a super-sized Saks shoe department inside an art museum, but it did the trick.  Shoes for miles.  Like a porno bookstore, but with footwear instead of magazines full of crusty big girls.

Rachel almost blacked out a few times.

At some point while Rachel was outside having an afterglow cigarette, Mandana and the Zoebots managed to get all the missing collection items shipped out to Polly just in the nick of time, so now the entire UK could also turn their noses up at sparkly maxi dresses.

But Rachel was not giving up on those pieces.  She needed to stand for what she believed in, even if the rest of the world was going to keep tripping on the long hemlines and buy the QVC stuff instead.

And that right there put forth a lot of unanswered questions.

The RZ Brand hasn’t quite figured out it’s target audience yet.  Or what they want.

Who is the RZ customer and how come they don’t like long dresses but seem to enjoy those flameless candles so much?

And don’t even get me started on Rodger’s hair.

I just can’t.

 

 

Bozhe Moi Tovarish. The calming powers of my secret stress-relieving Russian Spy hat have yet to take effect it seems.

 

 

 

OhMyGod. These bangs are confusing me. It’s literally like one day both of my eyebrows are right there…and then the next day I can’t find them anywhere.

 

 

 

 

OhMyGod. Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah So Tired Blah Blah Literally Blah Blah Blah Blah Puppy Blah Blah…

 

 

 

 

OhMyGod. Dude. That hair. I just can’t.

 

 

 

 

 

You know that’s BabySquawk for “OhMyGod. I need those heels” right?

 

 

 

 

 

OhMyGod. I literally close my eyes at night and can still hear that little Goy crying like he just got eliminated on Project Runway.

 

 

 

 

OhMyGod. Don’t look, SkySky. It’s too scary. Some of the crew are actually wearing Mall clothes.

 

 

 

OhMyGod.

Literally, if I hadn’t already died a little last week, I would totally be dying right now.

But if I remember the rules, I don’t think you are supposed to do it twice in a row unless you’re actually in the Biz.  If you are, then it’s ok to literally die a little every time you turn a corner and see a rack of shoes or a full Starbucks cup.

Because that’s how the fashionably fabulous do things.  But only if you’re in the Biz.

Being dramatically over the top is not for rookies.  Someone could get hurt.

The Rachel Zoe Project was back for another round, trying to come down from a Mercedes Benz Fashion Week high that could put any heroin addict to shame.

Shield your eyes.  Designer Detox ain’t pretty.

Now that the runway shows were done and all the superficial backstage air kissing completed (…love you, mean it…) Rachel and Rodger had returned home to regroup and get ready to push some goods down a few buyers’ throats.  As stressful as putting together a 2 minute show may be, getting that same merch on a Nordstrom rack is even tougher.

Sitting outside on one of those New York City terraces that I’ll never be able to afford, Rach And Rodg immediately tried to outdo each other as to who was the most exhausted after having to suffer through an entire week of sitting in chairs and watching other people walk down runways in fancy clothes.

Rachel claimed to have not slept for 4 weeks.  Which, if you do the math, is a month.

Besides being totz amazeballs, it also validated my assertion that she is either an alien life form or part giraffe, since aliens only snooze when they go into those smoky freeze dry chamber tubes and giraffes only sleep for 5 minutes at a time standing up.

It’s true.

The giraffe part at least.  Look it up.  Five minutes at a time, up to six times a day.

With one eye open.

The More You Know, kids.

Roger’s new coffee house hair had a few issues every time the breeze from the Hudson kicked up, but he managed to keep it out of his mouth long enough to convince Rachel to fire up the MacBook and read the online reviews.  Though she claimed to not be the least bit interested, her laptop was already drawing enough juice off the neighbors wi-fi to allow the InStyle website to load in record time.

Everyone seemed to love the show, if I understood Rachel’s interpretation of the English language.  She was only reading every other word out loud like you do when you have to skim Catcher in the Rye 30 minutes before the book report, so the whole thing came across a little like an onscreen communication from Starfleet during an asteroid shower.

But I think I got the gist of the thing.

After scrolling through a few more sites, Rachel was either giraffe-sleeping again or so happy that she was frozen in place as Rodger showed off his goosebumps and stated that now they just needed to sell some of the shizzle.

And that’s where Mandana Ba-nan-as came to save the day.  At least until Rachel showed up with little boy/girl SkySky, who appeared to be so overly hormonal this week that I was afraid he was going to need a Burberry inhaler.

While SkySky squealed and wandered the room, Rachel’s VP tried to maintain some semblance of order with all the pretty people from Nordstrom and continued her attempt at filling up some square footage in their Designer Departments.

The buyers appeared to like the new season better than they did the previous assortment, but there was still some nose scrunching when it came to the über long Maxi dresses.

They also questioned whether some of the loose fitting pajama dressing would be too difficult to get in and out of for a normal customer.

Really?  Since I somehow manage to wake up every morning with my Batman PJ bottoms completely MIA and a tee shirt wrapped around my face, I’m not really sure who these people are that have so much trouble dressing themselves.

But whatev.

By the time the next model came out in a pair of shorts and inspired some dude in the room to instantly perk up, lick his lips and say that leather was “something they were definitely into this season,” I realized that Mandana and I both needed to leave the building asap.  Taxi!!

On the other side of town, Rodger and Rachel dropped by yet another one of their new ventures: DreamDry.

Though the building was basically a gutted out shell with about 37 visible code violations, it was a work in progress.  When construction was completed, it promised to be the best new Blow Dry Bar in NYC.  Because God forbid that anyone in NYC blow dry their own hair before they go to a Macy’s One Day Sale.

And apparently there’s room for one more of these bad boys in the highly competitive world of round brushing, at least according to Rachel and her partner Robin Moraetes.

Unfortunately, work on the building was falling behind.  Way behind.  And in case anyone couldn’t look at missing sheetrock, dangling wires and non-existent illegal immigrant workers and not figure it out on their own, Rachel explained that the whole hot mess was the Opposite of Done.  Literally.

(Spoiler Alert:  DreamDry did actually finally get its act together by Valentine’s Day, which opens so many romantically inappropriate blow…out…jokes that I don’t even know where to start.  So we’ll just have to pass on this one for now.)

After brushing off the spackle from our Louboutins, we headed back to Rachel’s swanky new offices where, I’ll admit…I died a little again.

The places was Gorg.  Throw up in your mouth a little Gorg.

Seems that at some point during her 36 months of Super Pregnancy, Rachel’s company had put on some sympathy pounds and grown to 32 employees and 5 divisions.  And just like they say on a stranded Carnival Cruise…all that overflow has to go somewhere.

What?  Too soon?

So now all the Zoebots are in some pretty sweet digs.  And I was totally jealz.

Rachel’s newest Styling Associate Eileen came from a New York fashion background, presumably in the days when you had to blow dry your own hair to go to school, and she seemed really nice.  She was one of those calm on the outside/ready to leak some spaz on the inside types who maintained the best poker faces ever as little Goy SkySky continued his reign of terror around the building.

Rachel thinks that Eileen is Maj.  Not to be confused with Madge, for those of you who keep messing it up and clogging my email.

One is Major.  One is the manicurist from those old Palmolive commercials.  Google it.

And speaking of Skyler Morrison Berman, I didn’t actually see any DayCare signs anywhere on the floor, so I’m thinking that where ever the little Goy lands during a mini diva fit…Tag.  You’re It.  Babysitter.

When he momentarily went missing, Rachel took advantage of the silence and asked Mandana if she wanted to Download.

Because that’s how they talk in the Land of Zoe.  They don’t Catch Up or Talk About Stuff.  They Download.  Except that while Mandana was trying to download, Rachel was going into overload.  Dramatic overload.

But cut Rachel some slack.  Her bangs were confusing her.  Like, totally OMG…is my hair shrinking or is my head getting bigger?  That kind of confusion.

And quite ironic when you stop and realize that the woman who can’t figure out where her own bangs came from is now teaming up with the husband who looks like he just finished working a booth at ComicCon to open up their own hair place.

Stop the madness.  Just.  Stop.  It.

Those that can’t…do, I guess.

While we basked in that hilarity, Collection Manager Lauren met with some high profile boutique owners to try and sell some goods.  Just as their big buddy Nordstrom had done, they also questioned the practicality of the Maxi, which was Rachel’s baby.

The legitimately female baby, that is.  Not the other one that was rehearsing dramatic entrances from behind a chiffon office curtain.  Ta-daaaa!  It’s Celine!  In a diaper.

Nobody wanted to be the one who had to let Rachel know that most buyers were not feeling the Maxi Love this season, so they figured a group intervention would be easier, with Lauren leading the charge.  The Maxi was a risk.  People didn’t get it.  And…

Too late.  Rachel thought the whole thing was Fashion BS.  How could people not get it?

And more importantly, nobody wants a Mini that’s gonna flash your HeeHee while you’re playing with your SkySky.

(Wasn’t that was a song on The Wiggles PBS show last year?)

And where a weaker person might have turned to alcohol under such duress, Rachel turned to her magic stress-relieving fur hat.  Because she didn’t know what else to do.

When Rachel is freaking out, she tends to put on hats.  Fur ones.  And we all know that when you’re at a loss for words and about to lose your nutty on someone, it’s always best to just dress up like you’re Natasha from The Bullwinkle Show or Lisa Vanderpump at a ski lodge, right?  Must kill Moose and Squirrel…and Adrienne.

At some point in the all the chaos, Roger was back in his office chatting it up with the Other Rachel.  Rachel “SILBS,“ whose main job at RZ Inc. appears to be nodding and smiling while Rodger rambles on and on.

And on.

Kind of like that girl at the bar who fakes it out with some Dbag until her friend comes back from that restroom.  That kind of blank nod and smile.

They talked about dogs and picture frames and a whole bunch of other stuff that eventually sounded like Charlie Brown’s teacher.  Muwwwaaah Muwwwaaah.

Lest you think that you wouldn’t get your stylist fix this week, Rachel was all over it with a Coach music video starring the duo group Karmin.

Prior to the shoot, Eileen had stripped a local store down to the bare walls and sent 99% of their on-hand inventory over to the studio in poorly marked UPS boxes.  So you knew before it even happened that something was going to go missing in the middle of Amy‘s Jingle Bell rap.

Naturally, Rachel brought Girl Scout Tagalong cookie SkySky to the shoot, and at least three of the camera guys contemplated stuffing the cry baby into one of the sweater boxes before singer Nick‘s missing brown one with the elbow patches finally showed up.

(Told you they’d lose something.)

Since Rachel was under additional stress to produce the perfect Winter Wonderland video before the actual holiday came and went, she immediately dove for another magic fur hat to calm her nerves.

And it worked.

The video was a big hit.  Done.

Karmin rocked the fashions and the tunes.  And Joey Maalouf was even there doing his makeup thang again.  He didn’t talk, but it looks like he’s finally back from burying Jeremiah‘s body behind the Crate & Barrel on Melrose.

Blast from the past!

Now it was time to wrap it up and hit the office to try and move some merch.  If only they could all get a handle on what customers really wanted this season.

OhMyGod.  I swear.

Retail…and new bangs…are literally beyond my comprehension sometimes.

I can’t breath.  Where’s my Bullwinkle hat?

 

 

Who’s my little wittle fashion spawn? Yes, you are. Yes, you are. Muah.

 

 

 

 

I’m still your favorite cute baby boy, right?  Say it.

 

 

 

 

 

No. Like seriously. How do you see out of those things?

 

 

 

It sleeps.  It eats.

It has gas in Gucci and poops in Prada.

And I’m pretty certain it walks on water and gives sight to the blind.

It’s Baby Zoe, The Chosen One, and…OhMyGod…it might be cuter than Joey.

The Season Finale of The Rachel Zoe Project had it all.  Fashion drama.  Retail  drama.  And the kind of baby worshipping that Mankind has not seen since Mary and Joseph blessed that manger all those years ago.

After being the first woman to ever go through pregnancy…make that SuperPregnancy…and the first Muppet haired man to ever be an expectant father, Rachel and Rodger with a D were now officially a family.

Little Peanut Skyler Morrison Berman was home in his multi million dollar nursery, surrounded by loved ones and more bite sized designer wear than any full grown adult could ever dream of owning.

Seriously.  Did you see that room?  If all his teenie clothes were made of cheap cotton and (allegedly…) sewn by little Taiwanese children, you would swear that Skyler’s crib was sitting in the middle of some Beverly Hills Baby Gap.  Unless he has more daily wardrobe changes than a Cher Farewell Tour, that baby will outgrow half of those clothes before Mommy Zoe even gets around to cutting the tags off.  If I could fit in that crib I would totally take his place.

So for the first time in her life, Rachel gets to spoil a baby and wear a bra, and it seems that both of the experiences have her a little frazzled.

Because fashion never rests, it’s important that Rachel get right back to styling and being fabulous asap.  Anne Hathaway ain’t gonna dress herself, people.

And the only way to accomplish that is to carry Skyler with her wherever she goes like he’s her newest Chanel bag.  Lucky for everyone involved, the little nugget is still in the novelty stage, and hasn’t gotten to the point where he drives everyone crazy yet.  I give it a month.

Since Sky Sky French Fry is still in the newborn puppy stage, and can’t keep his head steady or eyes open long enough to pick out his own outfits, Rachel can dress him up as she chooses.  This is something that Rodger feels will eventually mentally scar him if she doesn’t find some manly clothes.  I don’t think a grown man who bases his own ensembles around a double knotted neck scarf is really the best judge of whether or not a French shawl collar sweater will keep his child away from women years from now, but hey…it’s not my kid.  I’d be more concerned about Uncle Joey if you’re asking my opinion.

The first Baby On Board photo shoot for Rachel’s resort line goes off without a hitch, though she does seem to mention her full bosom with every other sentence.  I suppose it’s like any new toy that you never had before, and the fact that Skyler is the first boy in her entourage that has ever shown any interest in lady parts, if you know what I mean.

Continuing on in the Zoe Tradition of waiting until the last minute for everything, Rachel has the opportunity to set up a store within a store at the local Bloomingdale’s, as a test run for a potential product roll-out.  And of course it is in less than two weeks, which is a total implausibility in the real Retail World.

Having served my time in retail, I can tell you that any store that puts up Christmas decorations two weeks before Halloween doesn’t suddenly decide to plop in a new vendor shop with 13 days notice.  Ain’t gonna happen.  Bloomingdale’s is probably already buying swimwear for Summer 2018, so I have my doubts on this one. But it makes for good TV, and also gives everyone another chance to watch Jeremiah sweat through his eye sockets.

Since Jeremiah’s claim to fame is most likely always going to be every which way spiky hair and that humiliating “Former Styling Assistant” tagline that followed his every move for two episodes, he had nothing to lose by offering to help out Mandana BoBanna Fanna design the Rachel Zoe Shop for Bloomingdale’s.  Though she knows absolutely zero about retail real estate and floor planning and Home Depot, Mandana still plays with Jeremiah’s head as they discuss the project.  She’s like one of those annoying house cats that always swats at things just because they can.

With a supportive “Don’t F*** it up” she sends him scurrying off to source materials, with nothing more to go on than a vague brand theme and a shirt full of back sweat.

When he returns with his initial plan, Mandana swats him around a little more because she can, and then picks at his ideas.  She claims that to fully understand his concept he needs to walk her through the layout.

It’s a drawing of two chairs and a table, and a long display bench.  For real.  If you can’t figure that one out on your own, we have way bigger issues here, sister.

Maybe it was the bangs that are always in her eyes.  Or maybe it was because she was looking at the page without her sunglasses on.  Maybe they always wear them indoors because they give you some super crisp focus.  For most of the episode Mandana was rocking some seriously substantial BluBlocker shades, so that must have been the problem this time.  The sunglasses give them super powers.

Since there was actually nothing to this episode, we got to see a lot of Rachel and Rodger cooing over Skyler, with every scene accompanied by some wind up toy nursery song.  It was kind of like the song they play in horror movies before the Bride of Chucky slits your throat, but since Skyler still bonks his head on the crib guard I felt pretty safe.

They bicker over who is going to burp Skyler, to the point where I was afraid his massive baby head was going to blow of his shoulders before they got around to letting one rip.

Every Rachelism catch phrase that she has ever used on Oscar Night was recycled for Skyler.  He’s the cutest thing ever.  I die a little when I look at him.  He’s maj.  (That’s major for those of you who may have skipped that day in class…)  Every once in awhile I lost track of whether they were still talking about Skyler or if we were back on Kim Kardashian’s red dress again.

Skyler is a cutie.  Der.  Would you expect anything less from Zoe Inc.?  If she had popped out an ugly one, I can guarantee you that there would have been a baby switch episode that would put All My Children to shame.  Uncle Joey got almost as excited by the new baby as he did that day he went to pull gowns for Molly Sims.

In a brilliant bit of network cross promotion, I swear that Rachel hired NeNe Leakes to be the Nanny.  Tell me that wasn’t her.  Since The Real Housewives of Atlanta was on hiatus, and she bailed on The Celebrity Apprentice, I guess girlfriend had some time on her hands.  Bloop!  Change my diaper, beeotch.

The vendor shop installation (that’s fancy retail speak for lining up the racks and making sure the hangers all face in the same direction…) at Bloomingdale’s was another classic Jeremiah Moment.  Everything he does involves hyperventilation, last minute decisions and excessive sweating.  I swear that when he sorts his darks & lights at the Laundromat he is one grey tube sock away from a seizure.  I admire anyone who wants to do so well in their chosen career, and his awesome crazy eyed eagerness to please his employer, even though they already boned him twice…but the poor guy is not going to be able to feel the left side of his face if he keeps going at this pace.  His dry-cleaning bills alone must be a strain, because sweat is not easily removed from cashmere.

But Bloomingdale’s loved it, and hooked them up with 8 stores.  So that gives Jeremiah seven more chances to flat line before Rachel’s retail domination is completed.  Everyone was excited.  Jeremiah either cried or got forehead sweat in his eyes while Rachel bounced the baby around like a bean bag.

After firing Jeremiah for being too good at his job, and then making him come crawling back to decorate the nursery, and then making him crawl home and then crawl back again to set up the Bloomie’s shop, Rodger finally decides that maybe Jeremiah should be part of the Zoe Zone after all.  Since they kept him so busy doing odd jobs and he never had time to update his resume, he was luckily still available.

To thank everyone for all the hard work, for putting up with 9 months of SuperPregnancy and to celebrate what appears to be Hat Day at Rachel’s, they throw a BBQ at Casa de Zoe.  Rachel and Rodger are decked out in hats and superhero sunglasses as they whip up a Zoe Sausage that is apparently legendary in the world of processed meats.

Joey gags for it, he claims.  (The comeback punchline for that joke is too easy.  I won’t even go there…not even a challenge…)  He walks around the BBQ clutching his drink in two hands like he stole Skyler’s sippy cup, making sure that he doesn’t lose his spot in line as Rachel’s BFF.  Mandana wears her sunglasses and bumps into things.  Jeremiah finds out that he is rehired and back in the family, and gets more forehead sweat in his eyes.

Rodger and Rachel give over the top heartfelt toasts to the gang, and to the Chosen One.  The Golden Child.  The Future Fashion King.

Life is good and Anne Hathaway looked amazing.

Skyler takes it all in.  And lets it all out.

Where’s NeNe?  Girrrl….somebody just left you a Hotlanta present.

Next season should be literally puréed ba-nan-as.