There I was, lolling in hot water for my monthly pedicure (at Thingirl’s worse moment she’s soaking), when a hysterical mother came charging in like a bull, in Gucci.
“My daughter needs help,” she said, as if she were lying under a bus. “Please, will someone help her?”
Naturally, all ten toes popped out of water like submarines to assist, when in walks the sulkiest 11 year-old, not a scratch on her. A lady friend of mom’s was suppose to be interviewed for a school project, about jewelry no less, and was a no-show. Honestly, this is the emergency? So I became the replacement, which was like switching from Eva Gabor to Olive Oyl.
Out came her mini iPad, the newest, little Kendall informed me, wondering if she might get her polish changed while she was there.
Sybil, I mean Kendall, looked me up and down as if I were on sale. “I see you don’t wear much jewelry, or is it in your Chanel?”
“Well you know, it’s only 10:30 in the morning. My jewels are still sleeping.”
Have you ever met an 11 year-old with no sense of humor?
“My mother at least always wears her Cartier signature bracelet. She’d feel undressed without it”.
Maybe mom should be giving this interview, but kept that to myself since she was outside on her cell speaking to the chef.
“Frankly Kendall, I’m really not a big jewelry wearer…a watch, pearls in my ears on occasion, but that’s it. Less is more for me.”
“Someone said you were a model.”
“Well that’s true, I am,” I said, finding myself preening a bit.
“But I had my doubts since you sure don’t look like one. You’re not even carrying a bag.”
“So that’s what makes a model…her bag?”
She sighed heavily.
“Every model who’s anyone carries a big one with all her stuff: make-up, computer, cigarettes…her passport in case she has to catch a plane.”
“Not every model is Kate Moss ya know, Kendall,” I said, now getting annoyed.
“Clearly that’s true,” she said, while checking her Facebook page. “Don’t your lovers give you gifts?”
“I got a blender once…with four speeds.” Again, no laugh. Then mom swept in wondering if beef bouguignon would be too heavy for lunch.
Who are these people?
“Mom, she’s nor really what I need. She’s just too dull.”
Dull? Why you little heathen, with braces.
“Listen Kendall, when someone is nice enough to agree to help you, you don’t call them dull.”
I looked at her mother for confirmation.
“Well not to their face, anyway,” she said, smearing cream all over her hands.
“Well then, why don’t you call up Elizabeth Taylor…maybe she’ll talk to you.”
“Isn’t she dead?” Mom asked.
“Yes.” I shot Kendall a look.
This interview is over.