Well folks, we’ve reached the penultimate level of this weeks-long glimpse into the abyss known as the Rachel Zoe Project. I for one am glad it’s ending. Don’t get me wrong, I still enjoy watching this mess, but I think a few more episodes and my patience would be gone.
Anyway, this week, Le Camp du Zoe va a Paris. Well, Le Camp du Zoe sans Taylor, le femme discontent perpetuelle (this is fakey French, I believe). That’s right, Rachel, with Brad, Rodger, Marisa, and Makeup Gay in tow, fly off to that gleaming continental city of lights. As she lounges in her opulent hotel suite, Rachel says that she feels bad about Taylor not being able to come, and that she should be there. Well Rach, if you wanted Taylor to be there, why didn’t you, I don’t know, BRING HER! She proceeds to unpack an obscene amount of luggage while Rodger sits and quietly makes a doody in his pants.
After the gang all unpack and get settled, Rachel and Brad head off to the Christian LaCroix show, a designer I know mainly for the repeated mentions in AbFab. They watch a series of lace clad skele’ins strut down the runway and Rachel mutters something about “Parisian Chic.” Afterwards, Rachel weasels her way back stage and talks to LaCroix as if they are best friends, but it’s obvious he has no idea who she is.
Next up they go to a show by Ungaro, which I remember nothing from but feel like I should mention. Moving on.
Back in LA, Taylor and Intern Jordan are working on some looks for Eva Mendes, Jennifer Garnder, and Demi Moore, who it seems are their only clients. Seriously, all they do is style these three women, and while I guess they’re all pretty famous, I can’t see how styling them supports such an expensive production. Maybe Rachel is engaging in some human trafficking on the side to earn some extra income. Just a theory. Can you imagine though? “Brad, these Thai children are buh-nanas. Let’s edge them out with a romper and a sheepskin vest.”
A Paris, Brad and Rachel head to their private appointment to see Coco Chanel’s apartment, preserved as if she were still living in it. The place was nice, but kind of struck me as a really fancy version of the Winchester Mystery House. They both queen out like it’s some sort of big deal, though I think anyone with enough money/with a TV crew can get a private viewing of this place.
After the two finish shitting themselves in ecstasy and change their pants, they head to the Stella McCartney show. Rachel sees Paul McCartney and shits her dress again, and Brad has some drama about finding his seat. Rachel interviews that she liked the show and wants the chunky knits on her body, which sounds like some sort of euphemism for a disgusting sex act.
Afterwards, everyone heads out for some sightseeing. They all wind up at a fancy vintage store, ostensibly looking for a present for Taylor, although all that happens is Rachel buys a Chanel suit and forces Brad to buy a mediocre Dior trench for thousands of dollars, like a couture drug pusher (his words).
Across the pond in LA, Taylor is freaking out because a corporate client they had been styling for didn’t like any of the looks they gave them, so they need to find a whole new selection. After Rachel does some damage control, she sends Brad to get looks from twee forest elf Erin Featherston there in Paris while Taylor scouts out looks in LA. Between the two of them they get enough of a selection, and everything works out in the end.
After the fire is extinguished, they head off to the John Galliano show for some ridiculous clothes and fake snow (like snow snow, not the snow Rachel blows up Rodger’s butt during sex). Afterwards, Rachel says that she wants to “go see John” (again with the faux bff familiarity), and after an awkward minute talking with the designer, proceeds to raid the shoes from the show and pretends to eat them. Can’t take that woman anywhere, I swear!
After Galliano, it’s time for the main event: The Chanel Show. Rachel gets good seats while Brad is put in the nosebleeds. He remarks that it was strange that out of the packed house, the only vacant seat was next to him. He says it’s like Taylor was meant to sit there, though I like to think it’s because Brad can’t stop farting so they left a buffer zone around him. Again, just a theory.
Once the show ends, Rachel heads backstage to talk to terrifying zombie fashion overlord Karl Lagerfeld, looking as Lagerfeldy as ever. He strikes me as someone who probably smells like formaldehyde and doesn’t eat enough fiber. He is surprisingly cordial to her, and the two pose for a few pictures.
Afterwards Rachel and Brad have a big gushy tea and talk about how fortunate they are to be who they are. Brad marvels at how a boy from small-town Canada could amount to all this! You know, a probably very underpaid assistant to an emaciated she-mantis. He has ARRIVED. The two cry tears of joy.
After the emotiontea, Brad calls Taylor and the two awkwardly chat for a few minutes until Taylor says something bitchy and hangs up. Trouble’s a-brewin, y’all!
But Brad doesn’t have enough time for that though, because he has to go to the Marc Jacobs for Louis Vuitton show. The clothes look pretty good, though Marc Jacobs himself looks meth-faced and emaciated. Seriously, dude needs to put down the pipe and eat a cheeseburger.
After the show, Rachel goes and talks to Marc, one of her self-proclaimed “closest friends” to gush. He seems vaguely annoyed and gives off a major “get the fuck away from me vibe.”
Back at the hotel, Rodger gurgles “G-g-g-giiift? Piiicture?” and hands Rachel an album he jumbled together from pictures he took on their trip. Rachel is all “Awww baaaaaaabyyyyyyyyyy” and the two do gross affectionatey stuff.
In LA, Taylor’s parents come visit her at the studio, and she complains to them about her job issues. The two intense characters basically tell her to sack up and stay in her job.
And that ends the second to last episode! Next week bettah bring the dramz, since this week basically nothing happened. Which is kind of weird, because that means I just wrote 1000+ words about nothing. What a life.