It’s morning with Mr. and Mrs. Zoe, and their bedroom is about as staged as a high school production of Hello, Dolly! The fun starts when Roger tells Rachel that she’s too old to bake another baby, and Rachel tells Roger to suck it. Ah, true love. 

Did you know that Rachel Zoe wrote a book? No, you didn’t. But only because her picture wasn’t on the cover. So with her new book, the cover will be all about Rachel. Even though Rachel Zoe hates being in front of the camera. Hates it. “No, stop, don’t point that camera at me does my hair look good and can we maybe try one with this hat?”

Eew! Rachel Zoe in a backless dress is vomit-inducing. You should not be able to see someone’s rib cage poking out of their spine. Speaking of her body, Rachel Zoe’s body has an aversion to the color pink. And, the mouth part of her body divulged the following insight:

• My house is a house where you kind of wear like gold, blackwhitesilver, neutrals, I’m very comfortable wearing white on white on white on white and just blending in.
• I’m not saying no, I’m just saying that’s shockingly bright.
• It’s sucking in my rib cage.
• Caviar and couture. That signifies the perfect day.
• I’m just most comfortable wearing a sea of gold lame…I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that.
• Dior couture. Could you throw up? Look at the colors.
• I want to toughen up the whole, like, vibe.
• I think I think better with a turban.
• Like, it’s just, it’s just super matchyloo.
• Every inch of my soul wants ot put a leather bomber jacket on her, but I’m not going to.

Rachel’s friend, William, stops by the photo shoot with caviar. He teaches us that “glamouflage” is when you choose your wardrobe because it keeps you strong and secure. Meanwhile, the stylists and helpers are secretly mocking whatever medical condition causes Rachel Zoe to say “ah mah gaht, ah mah gaht.” And, we learn that Roger gets turned on when Rachel is in leggings and a tank top. I’m sorry, but if I had to picture that, then you had to picture it, too.

Rachel’s baby’s outfits are in the Gucci garment bag, because that is where everyone keeps their baby’s clothes. Oh look, it’s a baby Gucci tuxedo. I can’t wait until that child grows up and joins the Peace Corps because he is tortured by the number of starving children that could have been fed for the price of that tiny formal wear.

Roger goes shopping for the poor child, and buys him normal hipster baby clothes, including a tiny little Beastie Boys t-shirts and track pants. Good for him, taking charge. This is not going to end well. “I don’t understand. What is he wearing?” Rachel thinks Roger doesn’t understand the importance of being impeccably dressed at 20-months of age. And I mean, really. Is there anything more important?

Next week, literally more of the same.

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Handbag Prototype Review! It’s the entire creative handbag team presenting the prototypes to Rachel. There isn’t a single handbag on that table that I haven’t already seen on the sale rack at Century 21. Rachel gets reflective when it comes to accessories, and notes that “one of the great things about having my name on the label is that if I want to make a change, I can do that.”

A few quick things that wandered around Rachel Zoe’s mind and escaped through her mouth:

• (About purple) I can’t do this, like, I just can’t. I t’s just not me.
• You have like no hair, and you have like no clothes.
• At least you got hit by Hermes.
• Don’t even put that on because you look like the kid in the plaid blue shirt with two buttons on the collar.
• When he questions my styling, I’m like, that thing that your mom taught you, that if you don’t have something nice to say, then shut up, basically.
• Sick, sick, sick, sick, sick, amazingly sick. Oh! This is psychotic. Uh, mah gawt.
• This belt is literally everything.

The rest of the show, I literally can’t.

Next week, Roger reminds Rachel that she’s old.

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Last week, Rachel infested my beloved New York City. This week, she has retreated back into the warm embrace of Los Angeles.

We find Rachel in the kitchen, plucking miniaturized clothing out of bags. She calls them Gucci and Blueberries, and they are for her infant son. But lest ye judge, it’s all good because she “gives away” so many baby clothes. Can you imagine going to a Salvation Army and finding a pair of Baby Prada Loafers? That would be so Maj.

Here are some things that were said by Rachel Zoe and the people who surround her:

• Ah mah gaht, ah mah gaht don’t get in an accident!
• Ah mah gaht there’s stars. Are we on the walk of fame?
• Ah mah gaht. President of the United States! Whoo whoo whoo whoo!
• I’m trying to style someone, like me, in all the different scenarios of my life, so that’s weird and uncomfortable for so many different reasons.
• It’s kind of about me, but I’m not in it I don’t think which, I ‘m happy about I don’t want to be in it.
• I think the rules have changed if there even are rules anymore. I mean, you’re in leather pants and a sweater.
• I want women to look at this story and be like oh okay, maybe I need to try a little harder.
• That was like the largest thing I’ve ever seen in my life, that was like a football field on the wall. What’s that other gorilla? Hong Kong? King Kong.
• I am Rachel Zoe. If you wind me up, I will go.

Rachel’s company has 30 employees in a 15,000 square foot office and they literally cannot move because it’s so cramped, even though I’ve never seen more than two people in her office at any one time and it’s not like anyone weighs more than a breadbox.

Rachel is doing styling for a photoshoot for Elle Magazine and it’s supposed to be about Rachel but not really about Rachel, so she steals a Miu Miu coat because in the end, it’s all about Rachel. She dresses up a model like a “business woman” which means a micro mini and hooker-height heels. There’s also a short red trenchcoat which I think is an outfit for a different kind of “working woman.” And then, Ah Mah Gawt, the photographer wants to dress up Rachel and take her photo. She puts up the tiniest bit of a fight before putting on a shirt with huge drapey armholes that show a tremendous amount of side ribcage. Side ribcage is what side boob used to be, before it gave up carbs.

Marisa is the director of brand partnership and leading the charge to make Rachel Zoe the face of Jockey underwear. Because when I think of Jockey, I think of leftover string cheese. Rachel’s driver brings her to the wrong studio for her Jockey photoshoot. When Rachel finally arrives, her assistant apologizes about a dozen times even though she had no control over the car.  There is a discussion about types of bangs, and another assistant loves them so the bangs stay. There is a wind machine and environmentally friendly aerosol hairspray (seriously, you’d have to be the stupidest person in the world to use aerosol anything nowadays).

Next week, a fog rolls into a photoshoot, as dos a man with a British accent.

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Rachel Zoe helps everyone get dressed because her “purpose in life is to dress everybody,” and buttons are confusing for people who do not have a doctorate in styling. In furtherance of her goal, her toddler has his fourth fedora change of the day.

These are words that fell out of Rachel Zoe’s pie hole this week:

• My mind is, like, spinning, spinning, spinning.
• I love olive, like I love Army, but I almost want that a little deeper, that has a lot of moss in it.
• I would say the easiest part for me is coming up with what I want.
• And with my styling hat on, she’s wearing it in shorts, with, like, a vest, and a big oversized, like, men’s coat over it, that’s, like, how I see her.
• I literally don’t understand what the obsession is with pink.
• It’s got black, its’ got white, it’s got…color.

Rachel Zoe wants to do the 1960s for her next fashion story. She can’t get enough of the 60s mod thing, but in a fresh way and not that scary way. In order to “do the 1960s,” Rachel Zoe must build a time machine that allows her to be in New York and Los Angeles at the same time, but like, five decades ago.

These are things Rachel Zoe said to other things:

• To a fur trimmed jacket:  It’s like cray cray, right?
• To stiletto heels with metal studs:  These are good work shoes.
• To her husband:  Why can’t you dress yourself anymore?
• To a model, about a handbag:  What happens if you hold her, and you hold her with, like, two hands forward?

Rachel goes shopping at a vintage store with her New York designer, Michael. The clothes are all arranged by color. That is stupid, by the way. I have never walked into a store in search of something lime green.

Putting on vintage treasures is Rachel’s “everything,” and several maj pieces are purchased. But when you shop with a camera crew, you don’t leave the store with any shopping bags. Instead, the shop packs up your purchases, contacts your assistant, and makes the assistant drive all the way over to the store you just walked out of to pick up the clothes you just purchased thirty seconds ago and would have easily fit in your car.

Rachel’s styling associate, Eileen, pops into Marc Jacobs to find 1960s mod “stuff.” Next up is a series of jewelry appointments, where Eileen walks off with gobs of baubles, including a heinous crystal peace sign necklace that is so hideous that I actually made an “euuuggghhh” sound when I saw it on the screen.

Guys! It’s Proto Review! I think that means “prototype,” but I could be totally off base. Also, it has become clear to me that Rachel Zoe has little-to-nothing to do with designing her clothing line beyond blathering words like “texture,” “camel,” “seams,” and “shorts.” Then, her minions toddle off and design the clothes that get paraded in front of their queen during Proto Review. Unfortunately, Rachel does not like any of the clothes because the fabrics are scratchy, itchy, and pully.

It’s time for the 1960s photo shoot. Rachel picks her favorite mod outfits from clothing that other people who work for her already selected from larger racks of mod outfits. Jaime King, an actress and model I’ve never heard of, enters the room and is “one of my favorites, we kind of grew up together in the industry….” Yeah no, Rachel, you grew up in New Jersey.

Rachel’s child arrives on set so that everyone can pretend to coo over the pretty baby but are really just praying to their respective Gods that the kid doesn’t vomit on any of the samples. Instead of a fedora, Rachel’s baby is wearing a wool toque because babies’ heads must be covered at all times or their brains will evaporate.

Rachel wants an apartment in New York so that she can more easily tell other people to design clothes for her label. You see, Rachel’s life doesn’t lend itself to just one city. Her husband explains that two homes would actually make them homeless, and broke. But Rachel wants the New York apartment for their family’s stability, because schlepping a baby back and forth across the country naturally lends itself to stability.

Next week, Rachel Zoe goes apartment hunting in New York.

Photo courtesy of www.bravotv.com

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Rachel Zoe is frustrated that her sequined maxi skirts didn’t sell in the United States, so she goes to Paris and tries to pawn them off on Europeans. Her husband, Roger, has red dots all over his body. Does he have bedbugs? I hope he has bedbugs. Or, as they say in Paris, le cooties. 

Rachel stumbles upon her toddler in a park and takes him on a carousel. These are all things Rachel Zoe says while on the carousel:

• OMG. OMG I’m going up and down.
• OMG, I’m going to die, get me off of it.
• OMG, OMG, can someone make this stop?
• OMG. There are so many germs on this thing.
• Carousel man, can we stop? I’m literally dying.

Rachel then causes chaos within her own company when she tells her minions that they need to send her more maxi skirts, which are like regular skirts only “to the max.” She wants them packed up and shipped to her in Paris yesterday, which she thinks is possible because of the difference in time zones. I’m a little unclear on why this task is so stressful. It’s literally putting dresses in garment bags and placing those bags in a box.

Speaking of minions, there is a weird, whiny little man in charge of painting Rachel’s face onto her skull. She calls him Joey, like a baby kangaroo. His job is awful.

Rachel Zoe strung together a medley of words about Paris fashion week:

• Every time I go to a Valentino show, I get kind of emotional.
• Going to a Chanel show, for me, every time is like the first time.
• The femininity, the youthfulness, the richness.
• I love tiaras, I wear them all day on my birthday.
• I think if you don’t stand for what you believe in, nobody believes you.
• Well it’s Montaigne Market. If you don’t come here, you come nowhere.

Next week, Rachel tries to figure out how to fit all of her maxi dresses into one Manhattan apartment.

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Lots of people told Rachel Zoe that they loved her runway show. So many, in fact, that she found two positive reviews in honest-to-goodness publications. The problem is, people don’t like her clothes, like, to wear.

After being grilled on camera about exactly how much they liked the collection during what was supposed to be a perfunctory market meeting between Nordstrom buyers and The Assistant Who Has An Ulcer, three blond ladies were at a loss for complimentary words. It was made even more awkward when Rachel Zoe herself rolled in, blathering on and on and on about how fabulous her clothes are how everyone is going to want to wear sequins because they are shiny and new. But good on those three blond buyers, because they did not yes Rachel to death. Instead, the most sugar coating they could offer was “I’m not sure our customer would wear that” and walked off with nothing more than a promise to consider an order for mint green leather shorts.

Some things we heard upon Rachel’s return to Los Angeles, organized in order of coherence, from Almost English to Gobbledygook:

• “You look amazing.” “Thank you, you look maj.”
• “Eileen is the newest member of my styling team, and she’s maj.”
• “New York was cray cray you guys.”
• “I literally can’t this morning”
• “These bangs are confusing me and you know I don’t like to look in a mirror.”

Rachel shlepped her crying toddler into work and dressed him in a fedora and beaded necklace because every small human needs accessories.

One of the office people has to explain to The Assistant Who Has An Ulcer that Rachel’s signature “maxi” pieces aren’t selling because nobody wants to wear a tent’s worth of fabric. They contemplate how, exactly, to break the bad news to their boss, and decide to go with the “good news, bad news” approach.

Unfortunately, there is no good news. When Rachel hears that nobody wants a floor length dress, she declares it “fashion bullshit,” which may be a type of Fabric Fatwa. Not knowing how to process this information, Rachel puts on a fur hat to make herself feel better, and it is one of the few likable moments of the entire show.

Next week, it’s the runways of Paris which are probably literally maj. Or something.

Photo by bravotv.com

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Last season, Rachel Zoe, a grizzled piece of burnt bacon, squirted a human out of her nether regions. This season, in addition to slapping oversized baubles and gewgaws on emaciated fameballs and giving her assistant an ulcer, Rachel’s literally making her own clothes. I mean she’s not sewing or anything, but still. This is maj.

To Rachel’s credit, she does light up when the nanny (and the only person of color within a five block radius) brings her son to the workroom for a brief visit. And she gets über enthusiastic at a few runway shows, gushing sophisticated word combinations such as:

• Where is the man of the hour, that was out of control amazing…I am the most disgusting person ever, let’s go dunk our heads in ice buckets. Congratulations, honey, I’ll see you tonight, okay? Somewhere, wherever, I love you, that was heaven, that was seriously heaven.

• There was some Anne Hathaway moments up there, for sure. 

• I plugged your Twitter.

Okay, so the last one was from Michael Kors. Anyway, Rachel Zoe’s runway show? Oof. Her clothes are more T.J. Maxx than Saks Fifth Avenue, so maybe she should stick to styling and leave the designing to the professionals.

Photo by bravotv.com

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