God, it's been a good week. I just ate a bunch of jube-jubes. The remaining time left on the Bush clock can be counted in hours. No one perished on flight 1549. And The Rachel Zoe Project officially launched on Cosmopolitan TV in Canada. What more could a reality TV junkie ask for? We should all thank our lucky stars. Maybe it's the jube-jubes talking, but The Rachel Zoe Project, a Bravo born program, is chock full of all things delicious and delusional. I adore the fact that, during this time of catastrophic job cuts and widespread foreclosures, our dear Rachel is concerned with nothing more than collecting the next Birkin bag and hiding the purchase from her hubby. I mean, I know that's what I'm doing. Except replace "Birkin bag" with "baked beans" and "hubby" with "cat" and you've pretty much hit it head on. Bucky goes as crazy for old Bush Brothers as Rachel does for vintage Balmain. That's right. My kitty goes bananas for cured bacon. That and I think he's got a crush on Duke. But I digress. Despite the ridiculous focus on all things fashion and the wide divide between Rachel's rarified air and the rest of the pedestrian populus, this show is beyond addictive. Between the warring assistants Brad and Taylor, the pursuit of insane couture and the quips of "Do you die?" and "Shutting it down", Rachel and her entourage prove the perfect remedy to roaming the list of want ads and Walmart Deals of the Week. And in the process she actually seems likeable, which, for the Stylist Formerly Known As Raisinface, is quite the feat. Simply put, for me The Rachel Zoe Project provides the sweet escape necessary during these harsh economic times. That is beyond the Heineken and shots of Goldschlagger. Oh, and for you lucky duck Yanks out there, there's even a chance to meet Ms. Zoe. From Obama to Target, you Americans get all the fun.
Pamela Westoby still guesting and ghosting while Barker tans his tush. If you like this, you might just like my book Hoyden!