Shopaholic to the Stars
Page 77
- Background:
- Text Font:
- Text Size:
- Line Height:
- Line Break Height:
- Frame:
Page 1 of 3
It’ll be fine. I’ve dealt with many awkward social encounters in my time; it’ll be fine. I mean, OK, so I’ve never met a movie star who: 1. I’ve caught shoplifting, 2. has a tricky reputation (perhaps undeserved), 3. I know the entire life history of, having Googled her solidly for about three days.
But still. I expect it’ll go really well. We’ll probably really hit it off and meet up for coffee, go shopping together.…
No. I pull myself up short. Not shopping. I mean, what if she pinches something? What if she asks me to be her accomplice and I don’t know how to say no? I have a sudden hideous vision of the headline:
STYLIST AND MOVIE STAR ARRESTED IN BARNEYS, STUFFING DESIGNER SOCKS IN BAGS. SEE PICTURES P. 8, 9, 10.
Argh. Stop it, Becky. That’s not going to happen. Decision one: If I get to work on Lois’s styling team, then I’ll tell her I never shop with my clients. And if by any chance we do go shopping and she asks me to shoplift something, I’ll … I’ll pretend I don’t understand and back away. And then run. Yes. Good plan.
At least I’ve done my research. I know so much about Lois Kellerton, I could write a book about her. I know she started her career at age two in an infomercial about road safety, and she had an agent at age three, and her parents gave up their jobs to focus on her career. Her mother is the driven one and her father is the had-lots-of-affairs-and-ran-off one, so I won’t mention him.
Nor will I mention Sage. I hadn’t quite realized what a feud they’ve been having. It’s not just the cancer-victim-shaving-head remark that Sage keeps going on about. It started ages ago, when they both arrived at an event in the same vivid green dress, and Sage accused Lois of doing it on purpose. Then Sage didn’t turn up to an AIDS event organized by Lois. She was supposed to be presenting the whole evening, apparently, and Lois said she felt “snubbed and let down” but that she wasn’t surprised that Sage had “once again displayed her innate selfishness.”
Then, last year, Lois did the Hollywood Walk of Fame and said in her speech, “Hollywood is in my DNA.” Whereupon Sage immediately commented on Facebook, God help Hollywood.
What’s really sad is that they used to be friends, years ago. They even appeared in a TV show together as children. But Hollywood is a tough place for the twenty-first-century actress, and she learns to look on every other star as an enemy (according to Hollywouldn’t.com, this brilliant blog I found). Apparently, actresses compete over roles, men, ad campaigns, and even plastic surgeons. They set up camps like royal courts and become paranoid about their competitors, even those they’re “friends” with.
It all sounds super-stressy. I can’t imagine competing with Suze over a plastic surgeon. Although, to be fair, we did once clash over an Orla Kiely coat which we both wanted to buy on eBay. (Suze got it. But she lends it to me.)
Anyway, so there are quite a few possible conversational pitfalls, if and when I meet Lois tonight. I won’t mention Sage, or shoplifting (or shopping), or Lois’s dad, or Lois’s latest film, The Spiked Bed (it got bad reviews), or white sugar (she thinks it’s evil). Not that I was planning to mention white sugar, but still. Worth remembering. Topics I can safely mention: Lois’s Golden Globe, kettlebells, macadamia nuts. I’ve written them down in case I get tongue-tied.
“Why macadamia nuts?” says Suze, who has been reading the list with interest.
“Because Lois loves them,” I say. “It said so in Health and Fitness. So I’ll pretend to love them, too, and we’ll connect.”
“But what can you say about macadamia nuts?” objects Suze.
“I don’t know!” I say defensively. “I’ll say, They’re really nutty, aren’t they?”
“And what will you say about kettlebells? Have you ever even seen a kettlebell?”
“That’s not the point. Lois has done a kettlebell DVD, so it’s a good conversational topic.”
We’re in my room, getting ready for the Actors’ Society Awards, or ASAs, as everyone calls them. And I can’t help feeling a little bit hyper. I have to get it right tonight. I have to make a good impression. I’ve analyzed Lois’s style endlessly over the last few days, and I’ve got loads of ideas for her. I think she could go far more young and glam. She wears dresses that are too old for her. And who does her hair?
“I read another piece in Variety today saying Lois’s career is on the skids,” says Suze conversationally. “Hair up or down?” She grabs her hair extensions in one hand and piles them in a knot on her head.
It’ll be fine. I’ve dealt with many awkward social encounters in my time; it’ll be fine. I mean, OK, so I’ve never met a movie star who: 1. I’ve caught shoplifting, 2. has a tricky reputation (perhaps undeserved), 3. I know the entire life history of, having Googled her solidly for about three days.
But still. I expect it’ll go really well. We’ll probably really hit it off and meet up for coffee, go shopping together.…
No. I pull myself up short. Not shopping. I mean, what if she pinches something? What if she asks me to be her accomplice and I don’t know how to say no? I have a sudden hideous vision of the headline:
STYLIST AND MOVIE STAR ARRESTED IN BARNEYS, STUFFING DESIGNER SOCKS IN BAGS. SEE PICTURES P. 8, 9, 10.
Argh. Stop it, Becky. That’s not going to happen. Decision one: If I get to work on Lois’s styling team, then I’ll tell her I never shop with my clients. And if by any chance we do go shopping and she asks me to shoplift something, I’ll … I’ll pretend I don’t understand and back away. And then run. Yes. Good plan.
At least I’ve done my research. I know so much about Lois Kellerton, I could write a book about her. I know she started her career at age two in an infomercial about road safety, and she had an agent at age three, and her parents gave up their jobs to focus on her career. Her mother is the driven one and her father is the had-lots-of-affairs-and-ran-off one, so I won’t mention him.
Nor will I mention Sage. I hadn’t quite realized what a feud they’ve been having. It’s not just the cancer-victim-shaving-head remark that Sage keeps going on about. It started ages ago, when they both arrived at an event in the same vivid green dress, and Sage accused Lois of doing it on purpose. Then Sage didn’t turn up to an AIDS event organized by Lois. She was supposed to be presenting the whole evening, apparently, and Lois said she felt “snubbed and let down” but that she wasn’t surprised that Sage had “once again displayed her innate selfishness.”
Then, last year, Lois did the Hollywood Walk of Fame and said in her speech, “Hollywood is in my DNA.” Whereupon Sage immediately commented on Facebook, God help Hollywood.
What’s really sad is that they used to be friends, years ago. They even appeared in a TV show together as children. But Hollywood is a tough place for the twenty-first-century actress, and she learns to look on every other star as an enemy (according to Hollywouldn’t.com, this brilliant blog I found). Apparently, actresses compete over roles, men, ad campaigns, and even plastic surgeons. They set up camps like royal courts and become paranoid about their competitors, even those they’re “friends” with.
It all sounds super-stressy. I can’t imagine competing with Suze over a plastic surgeon. Although, to be fair, we did once clash over an Orla Kiely coat which we both wanted to buy on eBay. (Suze got it. But she lends it to me.)
Anyway, so there are quite a few possible conversational pitfalls, if and when I meet Lois tonight. I won’t mention Sage, or shoplifting (or shopping), or Lois’s dad, or Lois’s latest film, The Spiked Bed (it got bad reviews), or white sugar (she thinks it’s evil). Not that I was planning to mention white sugar, but still. Worth remembering. Topics I can safely mention: Lois’s Golden Globe, kettlebells, macadamia nuts. I’ve written them down in case I get tongue-tied.
“Why macadamia nuts?” says Suze, who has been reading the list with interest.
“Because Lois loves them,” I say. “It said so in Health and Fitness. So I’ll pretend to love them, too, and we’ll connect.”
“But what can you say about macadamia nuts?” objects Suze.
“I don’t know!” I say defensively. “I’ll say, They’re really nutty, aren’t they?”
“And what will you say about kettlebells? Have you ever even seen a kettlebell?”
“That’s not the point. Lois has done a kettlebell DVD, so it’s a good conversational topic.”
We’re in my room, getting ready for the Actors’ Society Awards, or ASAs, as everyone calls them. And I can’t help feeling a little bit hyper. I have to get it right tonight. I have to make a good impression. I’ve analyzed Lois’s style endlessly over the last few days, and I’ve got loads of ideas for her. I think she could go far more young and glam. She wears dresses that are too old for her. And who does her hair?
“I read another piece in Variety today saying Lois’s career is on the skids,” says Suze conversationally. “Hair up or down?” She grabs her hair extensions in one hand and piles them in a knot on her head.
