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    Monday
    Oct132008

    Podcast Monday Night!


    Join Decorno, Elaine and me for our Monday podcast at 8 PM (PST)/11PM (EST). Personally, I'd like to talk about my deep fear that Kenley is going to win Project Runway. Did you see her Bryant Park collection? (it hasn't aired yet, so if you don't want to see it, don't click.) Call in to chat, won't you?

    photo from Cake Wrecks
    (speaking of wrecks, my Real Housewives of Atlanta post is imminent)

    Friday
    Oct102008

    Look who's not so fucking perfect after all!

    Check out my new Martha Stewart garland:


    Who knew she couldn't spell?! Poor thing (I say as I cackle like a little old biddy).

    Friday
    Oct102008

    Am I the only one?

    When settling down on the couch to watch Entourage (or any other cable show), does anyone else's husband/boyfriend whisper "c'mon, nudity! c'mon, NUDITY!" and then when this comes on the screen:


    "YES!" and a mini-fist pump?

    Yeah. That's what I thought.

    Tuesday
    Oct072008

    "Is it appropriate for a guy to wear a big Chanel bangle?"

    You know he was serious! I'm sorry about the fuzzy image, but I didn't have a lot to work with. Brad's line was the single drop of water in the desert that was The Rachel Zoe Project tonight.

    Rachel had a come-apart, and it's time for an emergency SGM intervention/therapy session.

    Dear Rachel,

    If anyone would have told me two months ago that I'd be your biggest advocate and unpaid public relations rep, I would have told them to go smoke some more crack. I had Jeff Lewis; I didn't need another Bravo star in my sky. But then your show aired and I saw that you were a straight arrow: hard-working and generous, yet completely misunderstood by the general public. I knew that it was my life's purpose--my destiny, if you will--to show the world the real Rachel Zoe.

    However, tonight I saw a different side of you. You are under so much stress that you are becoming physically ill and lashing out at Rodger, your number one supporter and love of your life. It was incredibly upsetting to me.

    Let's first talk about your year long chronic stomach ache. Your doctor says it's caused by "an extreme amount of stress," which, in my professional opinion, is only half of the diagnosis. I'm sure your doctor is a very smart person, but you are obviously suffering from coffee poisoning and not eating. For reals, Rach. Please ingest more than than coffee. The Chipotle burrito I ate tonight weighs more than you do. No one's happy when they're not eating. (Believe me, I haven't had anything since a caramel apple one hour ago, and I'm miserable)

    Next, Rodger. Patient, rational Rodger, whose only crime is wanting to be with you. You are obviously not paying enough attention to him. I mean, look at the feminine flip thing he's got going on with his hair:


    He's so good to you, Rachel! How do you reward him? You go all bitchface on him when he says he wants to spend your 10th anniversary alone with you instead of at a party with 200 of your closest friends during Oscars season. Sage Brad hit the nail on the head when he said "Rachel has a habit of complicating matters."

    You again went nuts on Rodger when he, for once, put his own life ahead of yours and went to a previously scheduled business meeting instead of an impromptu dinner with your dad. You, who always puts work in front of personal, had the nerve to criticize Rodge for doing the same thing.

    Rachel, can't you see? You are sabotaging yourself, creating so many obligations and such high expectations for yourself and others that you are in a constant state of frenzy and alarm. Remember this moment?

    Your "come undone" moment in your closet with Joey the make-up artist and Brad, when you were teary and overwhelmed by work and the decision to skip your uncle's funeral? You frequently talk about re-prioritizing and balance and becoming a mom, but you're not taking real steps toward any of this. Tonight when you said, "really, I mean it!" to Rodger at your intimate anniversary dinner with the camera crew, Rodger responded, "you've said this before." It's all work, work, work, with everyone accomodating you. When you finally hit your breaking point, you ask for advice, the people who love you tell you to scale back, and you turn a deaf ear to it all. What are you afraid of, Rach? Working 12 hour days instead of 15? Having sex with your husband? Sitting on the couch with a bowl of ice cream?

    I hate to bring up the age thing again, but your older sister (who does she remind me of? Kind of a grown up Cindy Brady/Kate Hudson?) looks younger than you. Not so much here, but trust me.


    No, no--before you call me a "dick" like you did Rodge, I still think you're uber-fab. With your big vintage watch (lord, how I covet that watch!) and your fur vests--you're so chic. You just need to take care of yourself and stop working so much. Slow down. The world will not end if you decide to cut loose a couple of clients (you can start with dumbass Molly Sims who wore the dress and the tights that you specifically advised against. Like, wtf? What does she pay you for?).

    I know that this tough love from me is hard, especially since I've been living up your ass lately, but I'm coming from a place of love and concern. Seriously. I was more satisfied by The Real Housewives of Atlanta tonight, and that's saying a lot (and I'll say much, much more later on this subject).

    I'm not sure if you know this, but I am self-taught life coach and I have experience with dispensing unsolicited advice to many reality stars. I'm here for you if you need a shoulder to cry on (or a wrist to put your watch on), but remember, I can't help you if you won't help yourself. In any case, I will offer you useful cliches via this blog. Take care of yourself, honey. Now please go order a meat lover's pizza.

    Love,
    SGM

    Tuesday
    Oct072008

    In Defense of Rachel Zoe, Part II


    The New York Daily News printed a rumor-mongering paragraph that Rachel Zoe's statement on her show that she is a triple Virgo means that she couldn't have possibly been born in 1971. Perez picked up on this and went to town about Rachel being a big fat liar, fraud, pox on humanity, etc.

    If she is lying about her age, then George Washington University is in on the ruse because a GWU publication lists her graduation year as 1993, which would be consistent with an age of 37. Perez looks to have posted an old yearbook photo of Rachel which could confirm her age, but of course, he just posts the picture without any comment about about what year and what grade.

    I am reluctant to become Rachel Zoe's crazy-eyed superfan/watchdog, but I feel compelled to defend a fellow sun-damaged 37 year old. SUNSCREEN WAS NOT WIDELY AVAILABLE WHEN WE WERE YOUNG, OKAY?! We have wrinkles! We are AWARE. Back the fuck off, NY Daily News and Perez!

    In other news, The Real Housewives of Atlanta premieres tonight. I'm going to give it a shot. A very half-hearted, one-hand-on-the-remote shot. What about you?