Live from the Red Carpet!…me having an anxiety attack.Tonight as I waited patiently in the Media & Talent area for my client, trying and succeeding at entertaining myself with every social media app, text convo, and Buzzfeed article I could find on my phone to make myself seem preoccupied, I noticed the few celebs that I could actually recognize, some seriously hot dresses, and that ever-recurring awkwardness of Red Carpet anxiety and accidental paparazzi shots. No photos please. No seriously, I’m not famous.
Anyway, enough about me, let’s talk about the shit you actually want to hear about. So since I was there as a publicist, I got there early to check my client in, scope out the paparazzi, and not get yelled at by my boss. Of course the only celebs that actually get there as early as I was, are either amateurs, underage, or pregnant, so that being said, the two girls from Rich Kids of Beverly Hills were there, clad in expensive apparel likely bought with their parent’s money; some little nuggets from a popular Disney show that I can’t remember because I don’t watch Disney, and then there was Kendra Wilkinson, looking as hot as she did in Playboy, but with a big ole baby about to pop out of her belly.
After texting my GBF (Gay Best Friend) about how irritated I was that the annoying reality…girls (I refuse to even credit the show with the term “reality stars”) were acting, and that one had on the same shoes as me, the second wave of reality stars swept in. Lisa Vanderpump and her husband Ken Todd showed up first from Vanderpump Rules, looking timeless and fabulous as always — love them, mostly because they own my favorite restaurant in Beverly Hills, Villa Blanca.
Then it was the SUR manager, Peter Madrigal, who is actually hot in person… in a Johnny Depp, Pirate’s of the Caribbean sort of way, followed by Jax Taylor, who I really hate to admit is really hot in real life, but let’s be serious. The line for the Red Carpet was ridiculously long, and my client is not one to wait in lines. Unfortunately I get embarrassingly shy in situations like this (hence why I’d never be able to be on screen) and dreaded asking the two guys at check in if there was anyway to skip to the front. Luckily while I was politely inquiring, my client made it very clear that she would be leaving if she had to wait in line…then magically we were at the front! Only to be cut by a Real Housewife of Beverly Hills. You’re queen of the universe, not the Red Carpet, ugh.
After walking my client down the Red Carpet, and being blinded by the spasm of bright flashes as she gracefully smiled and posed for them, we headed into the party that was being held at Greystone Manor in West Hollywood. I wasn’t intending on staying since being at events like that always make me feel like an ugly step child for not being famous, but it was actually pretty fun…in a Bravo TV comes to life sort of way.
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