Over the weekend, I went to the QVC show at the Bryant Park tents; it starred a new fashion line from Rachel Zoe. It was sort of amazing? (I wrote about this elsewhere.) One thing I love about TV sets-because this three-hour runway show was of course most importantly a QVC selling show-in general is how much staging there is of things that we wouldn’t notice, unless they were wrong. And on Saturday, the producers were having serious trouble with the stylish kids they’d put in the front row behind their main camera.
They had about two dozen super fashion-weeky white folding chairs set up in the background of the main camera-that was the camera in front of which they were selling the shit out of clothes. Allegedly the people in these chairs were all FIT students, but three kids named Caitlin, Kyle and Rachele, 19- and 20-year-old attendees of SUNY Plattsburgh, Fordham and NYU respectively, were crashers. And they were bored. They were told three times to stop slouching, stop texting and stop making phone calls. (“Get his attention and tell him to behave!” hissed a QVC employee at one point, as Kyle was miming sleep.) They were like calling their moms and their moms were like, “Oh I can see you on the TV!”
About halfway through the show, the threesome finally bailed out. Later I ran into them outside. They were so over it.
“I hated those fucking clothes,” said Kyle. “The only good thing was the boots. That’s the only fucking good thing. Fucking we had to piss because we drank so much of the free alcohol. We hate QVC!”
The girls were all like, no, no, we don’t hate them. But! “They tricked us,” said Cailtlin. They weren’t told it was going to be three hours long till they were inside. (One of the other guys in their row, handsomely dressed in a suit, may have fallen asleep at one point; he was dying.)
“Someone came up to us and they were like, ‘Are you from FIT?’ and we were like, ‘sure,'” said Rachele. Oh, so who tricked whom?
Kyle was wearing what they called an “indie string” on his head. It is like a headband, but it is just a string? “It’s what the kids wear at American Apparel,” said Caitlin.
“Did you see the dumb bitch cunt from Real Housewives there?” asked Kyle.
“Kyle!” Rachele said, horrified.
Caitlin clarified that he meant, apparently, Kelly Bensimon, and also Jill Zarin’s daughter. “I love the Housewives,” Caitlin said.
“It’s not reality, it’s shit!” Kyle said. “We met people at the bar last night from ‘NYC Prep’ and they hate those bitches.”
“But you also said you were Perez Hilton tonight,” Rachele said. He did look a lot like Perez! Caitlin was a pretty, bookish blonde, and Rachele was a smart-looking brunette with curly hair.
This woman, whose card identified her as Niva the soul diva, had come up to them and, thinking Kyle was Perez, she’d dropped everything and started singing for him. Fortunately she was pretty good!
“Where am I?” asked Kyle. Then he sprayed my head with some free Tresemme hair product that smelled as if it was from a feminine hygiene line.
“It wasn’t that bad,” said Caitlin, of the QVC show. “I love Chloe Dao!”
“It was every frickin’ fashion week trend right now personified times ten,” Kyle said. “That was QVC. Belted! Purple shoe-boots! Ed Hardy’s agent just texted me! I can show you the fucking text!”
“That’s not what happened,” said Caitlin.
Ooookay. Where do they shop? “Fucking cheapest shit ever,” Kyle said. “You make the cheap shit work. Fucking thrift stores in Brooklyn where everybody has shit, slash, jeans from old Navy.”
“I got this necklace from H&M. I love H&M,” said Caitlin.
They were going out somewhere to go drink. “We’re cheap college kids, where the fuck are we going to shop?” Kyle said.