Rachel Zoe is back and she is just ready to die. Did you hear me? She kills it, totally kills it. No, the American stylist who provided the world with Nicole Richie, "boho chic" and a belief that jutting hipbones is part of "a look" as opposed to "a disease" is not dabbling in mortality-risking pastimes. Well, not that we have legal proof of, anyway. Rather, her inevitable reality-TV show launched this week in the US, called The Rachel Zoe Project, a title which is pleasingly similar to The Blair Witch Project. So that's what was out there! It was Rachel's Missoni kaftan that was making that rustling noise in the woods.
And, indeed, there is much to be scared of here. Rachel's use of the English language is chillingly death-centred ("I die"; "She kills it"; "Die! Die! Die!" = Good; "Are you kidding?" = Bad). But this show is really about her assistants: Brad, an adorable boy who appears to have been hired from Gay Cliche Casting, and Taylor. A new celebrity fashion bitch has been born, my friends. How scary is Taylor? She's so scary even Rachel is a little scared of her. She's so scary she says things to tearful Brad like, "I'm going to instill a new rule that we just don't talk, OK?". Even scarier, though, is the revelation that Zoe is, bien sur, branching out into fashion design "so my name can be, like, everywhere. I die!" But most terrifying of all is when Zoe, who in this month's Harper's Bazaar admits that she often doesn't eat more than a grapefruit in a whole day, muses, "When am I going to have time to have a baby?" Quick, Dorothy, throw the water!
