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Commander in Chic
Our Associate Editor ponders the presidency, hypnotists, and the proper cup size for Kathryn Ireland.
Our decorators were going all in this week. Big projects. Big chocolate addictions. Big flea market bras. If you're stressed out just thinking about all that you're not alone, President Obama is also sweating it (according to JAM, at least).
Darling Nathan Turner also has a major reno on his hands this week. He's redoing the phenomenal patio of his friend and Portia de Rossi doppelgänger Melissa. Nate dog has been working on her abode in some shape or form for the last eight years, which means he started when he was 12 (Just kidding! You're just so boyish NT.) The house looks gorg so surely the patio will follow suit. The pals jaunt off so Nathan can sketch some plays of what the room will look like:
Hold your head very still Melissa. I need to get your profile perfect.
Nathan and Melissa also head to pick up some Moroccan delights. They should have just called The Real Housewives of New York and had them bring you a couple of things back -- not hangers, of course, but caftans, henna tattoo supplies, anything you need really.
Ultimately N-8 settles on some divine antique tiles that Melissa's soul patch-sporting contractor does not understand. He gets the client in a huff when he announces everything has arrived in shambles. It's shambles chic! Nathan handles things and -- tada, the patio is the sort pf Boho global affair everyone wants to sip a margarita on. (Call us Melissa, we'll even bring the bottle of SkinnyGirl ourselves.)
Over at JAM Inc, three years of work are coming together at the La Jolla home helped design. Pause and look:
Yup. I would have just called a spade a spade, put an air mattress down, and gone for lattes but the Jamster brought in $3 million worth of furniture (including some tufts chairs that had our Senior Editor convalescing with joy).
Things are going great. Chessie their golden retriever is there hanging art. Jeffrey wore some rad driving moccasins. The bed is missing (OK, not great but Ross lays the smackdown because "nice is for ice cream" -- but what does that mean for gelato, Ross? How do you treat the gelato?).
Then the clients show up in the middle of the process. And the reaction is anything but effusive. They hate the rug (if it is non refundable I'll take it boys). Even the baby is critical!
Thankfully once it's actually finished the clients adore it. And thank G-d, because as Jeffrey admits, his job is more stressful than the president. That's why Obama hired Michael Smith he couldn't handle the pressure! (And look at what that guy did to the Oval Office.)
But perhaps the greatest measure of Jeffery's self proclaimed genius is his ability to convince the client why they didn't need bigger sinks
"Wealthier people have smaller sinks because they don't get their hands dirty."
This explains why I have to wash my hands in the bathtub nightly. I'm so poor.
Now to Mary Budget-Be Damned McDonald. According to MM the divorce will be accessorized. Just because the real estate agent, the divorce lawyer, and the client, say cut back, it doesn't mean one should. I'll let MM speak for herself:
"Sometimes you have to teach people what they think they want."
Yes. And what did Mary teach Kendra: that she wanted the bed in the corner; that she wanted a man named Lavin wear a chic instillation outfit and jam out to "When Love Takes Over"; a full array of nearly extinct creatures, antlers, plaid pillows, etc. Kendra if you need a permanent house guest I am completely available.
Meanwhile Martyn had a project of his own: conquering his crippling chocolate addiction. I know I'm giving you a good bit of show and tell this week, but can you please just watch this scene again:
Martyn, of course, turns to two things learned from The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills, Villa Blanc and psychics. After a rousing lunch with Kathryn Ireland to discuss Spanx, Martyn visits Paul McKenna to turn the taste of chocolate into anchovies. It seems to work because when he heads to Kathryn's for dinner even Jacqueline's amazing tales of her former lovers does not get him primed to ingest cocoa nibs. In fact, it even passes on to Kathryn who ends up spitting bites of her chocolate out.
This breaks my heart tremendously because I was really hoping for a remake of Chocolat featuring Martyn and Kathryn.
Also Kathryn Ireland bought a bra at the flea market -- you're a braver woman than I.
Next week Joe Francis has Martyn (and himself) sweating and Kathryn deals with a woman that appears to be a hoarder. I cannot wait! What did you guys think? Are you in love, or you in love with this show?