Monday, October 09, 2006

Lights, Models, Guest List...

We all have one of those people in our lives that annoy us, you know, those people that flaunt their good fortune like some sort of overpriced Berkin bag in front of those of us who can barely afford Tiffany cuff-links. I have several people like that in my life, but there is one that outshines the rest at the moment and I feel the need to get it all off my chest for the sake of our friendship and hopefully, after I have fully vented, she and I will be able to move on in our relationship. I probably shouldn't even mention her name as I don't want to give her any more fame but just so there is no confusion, I am talking about Raavi.

Yes, the very same woman that invited me to the Ford Agency party in Paris last weekend. Not only did she not lay a guilt-trip on me and force me to go when I said I would not be able to make it, she herself decided to go without me. Some people are just so shallow and self-serving. Had the tables been reversed and it had been me on that guest list plus 2, I would have made like a caveman, grabbed her by her shiny black locks and dragged her to the nearest salon, made sure she got made over, wrapped her in the tightest black Dolce and Gabbana dress I could find and shoved her through the door and into the faces of your favorite celebrities and supermodels. But, not everyone is as giving as I. I know, it is a bitter pill to swallow, but true.

And, not only that, but she spent the whole day dropping the names of all her new friends. Sports stars, supermodels, Academy Award winners and desperate housewives... They were all there and she shamelessly made sure she met them all. All day Monday it was "Cameron saw Justin and I together and got the wrong idea...", "Eva bitch slapped me...", "Julia told me about the piece of spinach in my teeth." It just smacks of self promotion and makes one feel a bit queasy and seasick. Thankfully, my life is not so empty that I need to fill it with endless celebrity events and getting my badly lit picture into Vanity Fair with all the bold-faced names like Suri Cruise. Of course, one can take pleasure in the way Paris Fashion Week has been ripped to shreds in the press... A collection of caliginous fashionistas and bad hair. Obviously better I didn't go as I always like to distance myself from bad publicity.

I suddenly feel so much better, lighter even, now that that is all off my chest. This Saturday Raavi has a chance to redeem herself when we are once again thrown together at a party in Paris, this one I will attend. Laura and Seb are throwing the bash of the year. Of course, Raavi was not originally invited, but I felt pity for her and her little life and got her guest listed plus 0. Laura says I now owe her one, but I reminded her that the only way to get into heaven is through good deeds and God knows Raavi needs the charity at this time in her life. Someone needs to save her from her self before she drowns in the sea of fabulosity and moves to Wisteria Lane. Darling, you know I love you more than my Mr. Potato Head! Actually, maybe I am giving her a bad time. She's like my very own Jessica Rabbit. She's not bad, she's just drawn that way, and really, we have no idea how hard it is being a woman looking the way she does. I have heard it said you should never judge someone until you have walked a mile in their Manolos. I find that all a load of rubbish!

In any event, the party is sure to be a sorted affair and come next Monday, all the grimy and incredibly private details that should never be shared will be here for your consumption.

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