Catwalk. Part 11

So, in an attempt to fill the s.p.a.ce, I tell her about the Dylan Marceau interview and how I was the whole camera crew, but instead of making the kinds of comments or questions you expect in a normal conversation, Mollie is silent and it makes me almost wonder if we're disconnected. "Are you still there?"

"Yeah...I guess so."

"You guess so?" Okay, that's a weird response. And it kind of hurts my feelings. Like, am I so boring that she's fallen asleep on me? Or maybe she has something more important to do? Perhaps she's actually watching TV and only pretending to listen to me.

"I'm feeling a little under the weather," she says.

"Sorry to hear that. The flu?"

"Yeah, probably."

"Yuck."

"Yeah."

"Well, I should let you go, Mollie."

"Yeah...I guess."

Now her voice sounds so sad that I almost want to demand to know what's going on. But then I think if she's got the flu, that's probably depressing enough. "Well, you take care. Drink lots of green tea and get some rest."

"I will." She sighs loudly. "And you take care in New York. Have fun."

"Thanks." Then we hang up and I just shake my head. What is wrong with Mollie? Well, other than the flu. Or maybe nothing's wrong. Maybe I'm just blowing things out of proportion.

Our hair and makeup stylists show up at the hotel on Monday morning and you'd think Paige had died and gone to beauty heaven. Two hours later, when we arrive at Marc Jacobs, our camera crew is in place and ready to go. It suddenly feels like we're professionals again.

A Marc Jacobs publicity person named Millie meets us and acts as our guide as she gives us what turns out to be a pretty quick tour. But at least Paige gets a chance to meet Marc Jacobs, even if it's only briefly. And he promises to spend more time with her some other day.

"When things aren't so hectic," he calls out as he ducks into a doorway marked "private." Finally it seems our tour has come to an end and Millie takes us to a showroom where a number of Marc Jacobs' finest designs are on display. Nothing for the upcoming season, of course, but the outfits are impressive and I think even I could become a Marc Jacobs fan. His style is clean and understated and cla.s.sic. I don't know a lot about fas.h.i.+on, but I know that. And I know that it's a look I can appreciate.

"Marc Jacobs is definitely one of a kind," Paige is saying into the cameras in an effort to stretch this thing out. "He certainly doesn't cater to the whims of the crowd-and yet the crowd seems to follow him. And Mr. Jacobs has surprised us more than once in his choices of models. I remember when he used Dakota Fanning a few years back, when she was still a child. All his women's clothes were sized down for her, even the shoes. It was clever and eye-catching. And then there was the scarf scandal." She glances over at Millie now, and it's clear that Millie doesn't appreciate whatever the "scarf scandal" might be. But I know I'm I'm curious. curious.

"However, I happen to believe it was simply a mistake," Paige continues with confidence. "I heard that the scarf was actually a flea market find, obviously just something that someone had thrown out. It was only used as a prop in a print ad, and I think it was very self-serving and opportunistic for Olofsson to charge Mr. Jacobs with plagiarism. If anything, Olofsson should have been flattered that Marc chose to use his old scarf." Paige chuckles.

Now Millie is beaming and I can only a.s.sume that whatever it is Paige is insinuating has pleased her tremendously.

"This is Paige Forrester," she says with finality, "telling you to always put your best foot forward." She sticks out a tall black boot. "And in this case it would definitely be Marc Jacobs. See you at Fas.h.i.+on Week!"

As the crew shuts down, Millie comes over and shakes Paige's hand. "That was excellent, Paige. And I know Marc will appreciate hearing how fairly you represented the, uh, scarf incident. Thank you." She turns to her a.s.sistant. "Make sure that you give them the clothes we set aside." Millie smiles at Paige. "Now if you'll excuse me."

Once the three of us are back in the town car, Fran pats Paige on the back. "You are brilliant, dear. Absolutely brilliant."

"How do you know all this stuff?" I ask as I zip up my backpack. "Was it something you learned at the fas.h.i.+on museum yesterday?"

"The museum was closed," Paige tells me. "But I know how to do my research...I never go into an interview without a little something in my back pocket."

"And that probably helped you to leave with a lot of clothes in the trunk as well," Fran says. "I have a feeling if you'd gone the other direction in the scarf story, you'd not only come back empty-handed, but our seats at the Marc Jacobs fas.h.i.+on show would've been mysteriously lost as well."

Tuesday's big interview is at the Kate Spade studio, but once again, the designer is too busy to do an actual sit-down interview. She stops by where we're filming in one of the design rooms to say a quick h.e.l.lo.

"I got my first Kate Spade handbag when I was twelve," Paige tells her. "I begged and begged until my dad finally caved and got it for me. It was pink and camel and I love it to this day, even more so since it reminds me of my father." Paige looks a bit sentimental but then shakes it off.

Kate puts her hand on Paige's arm. "Thank you."

"No," Paige gushes. "Thank you! You are both a fabulous designer and a wonderful role model for young women like me and it's an honor to meet you." You are both a fabulous designer and a wonderful role model for young women like me and it's an honor to meet you."

Kate nods and smiles. "I hope someday we have time to meet up again. You tell your people to call me and we'll see what we can do."

"Good luck with your show!" Paige calls as Kate leaves.

"I'm not just gus.h.i.+ng," Paige says to the cameras. "Kate Spade is a genuine inspiration to any young woman who's into fas.h.i.+on. She was born just a regular Midwestern girl, but blessed with talent and motivation, Kate got a job at Mademoiselle Mademoiselle and worked her way up in the fas.h.i.+on world. And look where she is now. Some of you may not know that Kate Spade's husband, Andy, is the brother of actor and comedian David Spade. In fact, Kate Spade bags were spotted on an old TV sitcom that David Spade starred in-a show that I used to adore called and worked her way up in the fas.h.i.+on world. And look where she is now. Some of you may not know that Kate Spade's husband, Andy, is the brother of actor and comedian David Spade. In fact, Kate Spade bags were spotted on an old TV sitcom that David Spade starred in-a show that I used to adore called Just Shoot Me. Just Shoot Me." Paige winks at the camera. "I'm guessing that having Nina Van Horn toting a Kate Spade handbag didn't hurt the sales any either."

Paige isn't too excited about Wednesday's interview, and as a result she seems to be dragging her heels this morning. While Fran and I are having coffee downstairs at the hotel (waiting for Paige to come down), Fran tells me about today's a.s.signment. "She's a designer named Paige who used to be a fit model."

"What's a fit model fit model?"

"Someone with the kind of body that actually makes clothes look good." Fran laughs. "And I don't mean good as in hanging on a hanger good."

"As in not not stick thin?" stick thin?"

"That's right. Paige Adams-Geller is a beautiful woman, but not the kind you normally see during Fas.h.i.+on Week. She's five foot seven and has a curvy figure that most women would kill for. Basically, she's not the tall underweight type of girl we're used to watching on the runway. And she's taken a fair amount of heat for it. But some people applaud her courage to be a real woman."

"So she's someone I could relate to?" I venture.

"Absolutely." Fran laughs. "You and me both."

"I think this sounds like a great interview. I mean, think about it, like ninety-eight percent of American women do not look anything like runway models. Or even the ones we see in print ads. And yet that's what gets shoved at us all the time. I, for one, get tired of it."

"I'm with you, Erin. Unfortunately, those are the images that sell fas.h.i.+on. Those are the images that drive our show. Trust me, no one would watch On the Runway On the Runway if we didn't have girls like Taylor Mitch.e.l.l showing up." if we didn't have girls like Taylor Mitch.e.l.l showing up."

"But what's wrong with having a fas.h.i.+on icon-if that's what Paige is-who is like the rest of us once in a while?"

"Maybe nothing. But don't get me wrong, this woman is not not like the rest of us," Fran corrects me. "She's gorgeous. She's won pageants and been on TV shows like like the rest of us," Fran corrects me. "She's gorgeous. She's won pageants and been on TV shows like Baywatch. Baywatch. This woman is definitely hot. But I suspect Paige-your sister, Paige-isn't overly impressed with this Paige. And I wasn't either at first. But when I read a little more about her, I thought it could be fun. It was Helen's idea originally: she thought Paige on Paige sounded clever." This woman is definitely hot. But I suspect Paige-your sister, Paige-isn't overly impressed with this Paige. And I wasn't either at first. But when I read a little more about her, I thought it could be fun. It was Helen's idea originally: she thought Paige on Paige sounded clever."

So when Paige comes down and we load up into the town car, I try to talk this other Paige up. "I think she sounds very cool," I tell my sister. "And I'm sure our viewers will appreciate seeing someone in fas.h.i.+on who's not into anorexia."

"Actually, Paige Adams-Geller did have anorexia," Paige informs me as she touches up her lip gloss.

"Oh..." I'm not sure how to respond to this.

"But maybe that would be a good angle," Paige says slowly. "You could be right, Erin. Maybe that would appeal to viewers who are trying to get a grip on their own appearance. I mean, it's a fact that not everyone can look like a model."

"I can vouch for that," I say.

"And we need to let them know that's okay."

I try not to roll my eyes at the idea of Paige Forrester "kindly" telling her viewers that it's okay that they're not as beautiful as, say, Paige Forrester.

"I think that's how I'll direct this interview," she says as we're getting out of the town car.

And that's just what she does. But to my relief, the other Paige handles it beautifully. She takes no offense at some of Paige's less-than-sensitive comments and questions and, when we're wrapping it up, I step up and shake her hand.

"I really appreciate your honesty," I tell her. "I know that I get fed up with the idea that everyone needs to be skinny to look good in clothes. And you prove that's wrong. I wish we had more people in the fas.h.i.+on industry who were willing to take your position."

"Thanks, Erin." She looks at me. "And I think I've got a few pairs of jeans that you might like to try out."

"Really?"

She nods to her a.s.sistant. "Get her size and her address and see that she's sent a good selection, okay?"

Once we're back in the car, Fran informs me that the cameras were still running while I was talking to Paige Adams-Geller.

"They were?" I frown in disappointment.

"And I'm glad they were. I plan to encourage the editors to include that bit. Our viewers need to hear you saying what you said. They'll relate." Fran's making a note. "Also, we need to put our people in touch with Paige Premium Denim to see about running an ad."

"Oh, great," Paige says with sarcasm. "Now we'll have jean ads on our show."

I make a face at my sister. "Yeah, and that would be worse than, say, tampon ads? Get over yourself, Paige!"

Chapter 13.

On Thursday morning, we are invited back to to Good Morning America Good Morning America, and our interviewer is Diane Sawyer. And this time Paige doesn't make a fool of herself. Instead, she talks with confidence and expertise about our TV show and how we'll be covering Fas.h.i.+on Week. And I just sit there like a prop.

"But what about you, little sister?" Diane directs this question to me. "What's your role in this new show?"

"I'm the camera girl," I say awkwardly. "I sort of just hang out with my camera and pretend to be interested in fas.h.i.+on."

Diane laughs. "Pretend? You mean you're not?"

I'm thinking oops. oops. "Uh, yes, I'm a little interested. But Paige is the fas.h.i.+on expert. I'm more into the filming side of things." "Uh, yes, I'm a little interested. But Paige is the fas.h.i.+on expert. I'm more into the filming side of things."

"You sound like my husband."

"Oh, yeah!" I say suddenly. "You're married to Mike Nichols, right? I am such a fan of his. He's brilliant!"

She smiles patiently. "I'll pa.s.s that along to him."

"You see, I was taking film and TV at UCLA, but I dropped out to do this show, which was a great opportunity..."

She nods. "Absolutely. Few lessons in the cla.s.sroom can compare to hands-on field experience." She turns back to Paige now. "Well, I wish you luck with your new show and enjoy Fas.h.i.+on Week and New York."

"Thank you!" Paige beams toward the camera. "I'm enjoying it already."

"And I'm glad to see you recovered from last week's security debacle."

"Yes. That's something I definitely want to put behind me."

And that's it. They go to break, Diane thanks us, our mics are removed, and we are quickly ushered out.

"You pretend pretend to be interested in fas.h.i.+on?" Paige hisses at me once we're outside of the studio. to be interested in fas.h.i.+on?" Paige hisses at me once we're outside of the studio.

Fran laughs. "Hey, it was honest, Paige. Give the girl a break. Plus, you've got to hand it to Erin...she recovered quickly."

"It might've been honest, but it sounded totally lame."

"Yeah, whatever." I control myself from saying that Paige sounded just as lame when she told Diane about appearing on Malibu Beach Malibu Beach, like that was something to brag about.

We return to the hotel for breakfast, followed by a meeting in our room with Fran and the camera crew as we go over the itinerary for the next several days. It seems that some of the designers have now sent press pa.s.ses for some of the shows that Paige and I already have seats for. So now Fran wants to set it up to film.

"Considering how late we came into this game, we are seeing a fair amount of action," she says as we're wrapping it up. "All those interviews at the design studios really warmed up the waters."

"Talk about mixing your metaphors," JJ-one of the camera guys-teases her.

Fran scowls at him. "Now you and Alistair better figure out a way to decide who gets to go to which show. Flip a coin if necessary."

Paige focuses in on Luis and Shauna, our hair and makeup people. "And you guys will come to our hotel three hours before every fas.h.i.+on show, right?"

"You got it," Luis promises. "Earlier if you like. This place is way nicer than the fleabag motel we're staying at over in New Jersey."

"Three hours before the shows will be plenty of time," Fran a.s.sures Paige. "Bryant Park is only a few blocks from here. Even if traffic is a mess, which is likely, we can always walk there in less than twenty minutes."

"What if it's raining?" Paige demands.

"We'll use umbrellas," I suggest.

Paige just glares at me.

"We'll figure something out," Fran promises. "Don't worry."

"And if it's raining," I point out, "we won't be the only ones who are wet."

"Speak for yourself," she tells me. "I do not plan to show up looking like a drowned rat."

"Speaking of bad looks," Luis teases, "nothing can beat that look you had going on at the first Good Morning America Good Morning America last week. We watched while we were stuck in O'Hare and enjoyed a good hard laugh." last week. We watched while we were stuck in O'Hare and enjoyed a good hard laugh."

"Thanks a lot." Paige makes a face. "So compa.s.sionate."

"Hey, we needed a laugh," says JJ.

"At least your cheek is back to normal," Shauna tells Paige. "We won't need the extra coverage makeup anymore."