A shaggy-haired Jackie Warner’s back on Bravo with a new weight-loss show, Thintervention, beginning next week.
We see you Jeana.
To vicariously live the Thintervention experience, Jackie’s got a couple of workout DVDs on the market. The first, One-on-One Training with Jackie, was shot in 2008. The second, Personal Training with Jackie: Power Circuit Training, was released last year. 
Of the two, One-on-One is the better DVD. It stars familiar faces from the gym including Rebecca and Agostina. The one hour workout is divided into three sections: arms, legs, and abs. Jackie’s not reinventing the wheel; we’re talking lunges, squats, sit-ups, and biceps curls. Each trainer does a different part of the workout as Jackie cues the exercises and corrects form. Most workout videos aren’t very challenging, and on a scale of 1 to 10, this one ranks about a 6.5. Overall, it is a pretty well-rounded and complete strength training workout. You will need about a six by six area of clear space and a set of hand weights. 
Power Circuit Training has different menu options: 40 minute total body, 15 min total body, 15 min abs, 15 min lower body, and 15 minute upper body. The full workout runs 42.54 minutes. No familiar trainers here; never seen these folks before. Jackie leads her usual warm-up for about 5 minutes. The circuits begin with legs, followed by chest, back, arms, and abs. Warner relies on boring (but effective) moves like squats, lunges, and shoulder presses. There are three exercises per circuit; first done slower and longer, then faster and quicker. Jackie actually exercises; sometimes with questionable form. This one did not feel very challenging. Too much of it involved lying on floor. Compound movements would make this video more interesting, effective, and calorie torching. On a scale of 1 to 10, a barely taxing 4.
Just days before the Oscars, Team Zoe multitasked trying to cover the collections in Europe and collecting gowns for the awards show in L.A. Even though the best frocks seemed to be slipping through her fingers, Zoe dropped everything to rush to London at Kate Hudson’s beckoning.
Aflutter with an A-list celebrity contact-high, Zoe was too concerned with wedging her head up Hudson’s ass to panic over her unmet professional obligations. Even though Burberry surely sent over a narrow range of options for Kate to wear to the show, Rachel took credit for Hudson’s look. A puffy-faced Kate rocked a military pea coat over a sequined mini dress in two different shades of green.
While imperfectly executed here, ladies take note, don’t run all over town, in the middle of the winter, in a minuscule dress, with no coat, freezing your ass off. Consider a cocktail-military combination and challenge the traditional assumptions of femininity, masculinity, day, and evening. Remember, shivering is not chic. 
Post-show, Kate and Rachel debated the merits of men in turtlenecks (Rachel pro, Kate con). Then Kate broke out into a few lines of Fleetwood Mac’s Silver Springs a capella, which was simultaneously annoying and impressive.
Rachel and Kate returned back to the hotel room where Rodger was curled up in his robe on the bed. Kate and Rodger double-teamed Rachel on the baby issue, but it’s kind of obvious she doesn’t want one. This would be Zoe’s wisest decision since the last thing the world needs is any more people.
Rachel raced back to Milan to join Brad for the shows. They met at a vintage store, Rachel in a Yves St. Laurent leopard trench, and Brad channeling Halston in a controversial turtleneck. Rachel justified her conspicuous consumption by rationalizing she would model her dreadful QVC line after her vintage finds. Brad walked away the true winner, scoring a ferocious felt gray wool man cape.
First Alberta Ferretti, a purveyor of modern, feminine, Italian elegance. The collection lacked any really Oscar contenders, but watching Rachel kiss designer ass never really gets boring.
Next Team Zoe ventured to the Missoni showroom where we met up with the (overrated) Margherita Missoni and her (underrated) mother, Angela. Margherita showed the group a bag with a pocket made of chicken feet, and this was Rachel’s reaction.
Can’t stop by Milano and not drop in on Versace. Brad even donned his D jacket for Donatella. Donatella and her gigantic lips greeted a gushing Rachel. Brad turned splotchy red, shifted his weight, and wore a tight nervous smile as he cradled Rachel’s coat like her little fur bitch.
The show itself produced nil in the way of Oscar options, leaving Team Zoe in much the same position as when they commenced Milan Fashion Week.
Later that night, Rachel and the rest of Team Zoe argued over whether she should wear thigh-high boots or patent leather platform wedges. Even though the boots were better and more fashion forward, Rachel chose the same tired platforms we’ve seen her in 1,000 times. Shoes aren’t the problem. She’s so fucking skinny she looks like glamour granny in everything she wears anyway.
At the Bulgari event, Julianne Moore barely tolerated Rachel’s superficiality. When Zoe inquired as to what Moore would don at the Oscars, Julianne answered Calvin Klein. This revelation smacked Rachel back into the reality that neither of her clients have gowns for the Oscars taking place less than a week away.
Back in L.A., a few dresses, including the Oscar de la Renta princess gown, began to trickle into the studio. However, Rachel began to suffer the harsh consequences of her irresponsible decision to flee to London to lick Hudson buns when she lost three of her top Oscar choices to other stylists.
Rodger tried to talk Rachel off the ledge by arguing that it isn’t a reality until the client knows about a dress and loses it. Irate, Rachel countered, “But you know when you know it existed? When it’s on another fucking actress, that’s when you know it existed!”
This week Rachel was on the hunt for the best gowns for the 2010 Oscars. She proclaimed a white obsession and declared everyone should have a white moment on the red carpet. According to her, everyone looks good in white. The truth is most people look like shit in white. A rare woman wears white head-to-toe well, and it ain’t exactly slimming. Occasionally, white works and when it does it can be admittedly spectacular. More often than not, it evokes the inevitable and dreaded bridal comparisons and should be avoided.
First, Rachel sycophantically gushed over the brilliant Oscar de la Renta, but it was slightly less annoying than usual since he actual deserves it. As expected, Oscar served gown after delicious gown, but really only one princess gown stood out as a possible Oscar option. 
After the show, Rachel, Rodger, and Brad piled into an SUV to go ten blocks to the Michael Kors show. Despite sitting in gridlock traffic less than a mile away, it didn’t occur to the West Coasters to get out and walk to make it on time. The three self-important assholes rolled in late and rude, even though all the editors and other fashion folk seemed to make it on time under identical circumstances. On the way out, Zoe complained loudly about people sweating them for their bad manners and tardiness.
Rodger and Rachel’s sister, Pam, went to Kiki de Montparnasse to find something sexy for Rachel. The thought of emaciated, wrinkly, Rachel ensconced in lingerie is enough to conjure the heaves (Rachel Zoe presents the Refugee Collection). The lubricious salesgirl wasted no time breaking out an “intimacy kit” complete with vibrator. 
Mortified, Rodger moved on to the French Maid getup, before settling on a simple black camisole and lace thong that he could have bought anywhere. Proving he’s at least forty percent queen, Rodger closed the sale by saying, “We should get this because it is sexy, and she can definitely wear this with a Chanel jacket and be happy.”
Next, Brad (sans Rachel and thus relegated to the 5th row) at Derek Lam. Brad fixated on the modern white drapey cowl-neck high collar gown for Cameron Diaz, which was amazing (and was coincidentally included in Demeter Clarc’s selections of the best Fall 2010 gowns). Despite the gown’s dopeness, it obviously wasn’t right for Cameron or the Oscars. Brad says Taylor made him look incompetent, but so far he’s done just fine proving his lack of artistic vision. His picks are off, and that’s why you should never trust a gay man to do a woman’s job. Brad excels at dressing men, and that’s where he should turn his focus.
Rachel rushed waaaaay down market to style her QVC fashion show. The collection looked cheap, budget, and utterly home shopping. This should prove once and for all that this woman’s style and certainly her design talent, are greatly exaggerated. Admit it, the collection was not hot.
For their anniversary, Marisa gave Rodger and Rachel a DVD of their 1998 St. Barts honeymoon. Rachel was barely recognizable in the video describing herself as “a brunette with no wrinkles.” 
After, Rachel and Rodger traded gifts. Rachel bought Rodger a gift, and a gift for herself from Rodger – rose gold and diamond handcuffs. 
When Rodger busted out the Kiki de Montparnasse box, Rachel recoiled in horror repeating the mantra “not wearing it.” When Rodger pulled the relatively benign cami out of the box Rachel’s panic subsided, but she batted down his attempt to show the thong. Can we agree that a sex tape staring these two would be the least erotic thing ever?
Rachel seemed pretty disappointed with her gifts until Rodger busted out a custom Barbie doll fashioned in her image. First Dylan McKay’s Porsche, then Rachel Barbie, gentlemen take note.
That evening at Donna Karan, Rachel chirped, “Hey Beauty!” to the likes of Demi Moore, Susan Sarandon, and Brooke Shields reminding us that Zoe herself is more hired-help than style star. Rodger and Rachel told anybody who would listen about their wedding anniversary, and then feigned surprised when congratulated, exclaiming how nice it was that everyone remembered.
Pam sat Rachel down and gave her a serious talking to regarding her reproductive future. Rachel blames her hectic schedule on her childless womb, but she probably just doesn’t want to get fat or quit smoking. Hermès, Chanel, Balenciaga, these are Rachel’s babies. 
Getting ready for Marc Jacobs, Rachel vacillated between hair-up or hair-down, with the majority of Team Zoe preferring the hair up so as not to compete with the ruffled shoulder. 
Considering the jacket choice, her hair did look better up, and that’s how she walked out the door. However, moments later in the car, the hair was down. How can you trust a stylist that cannot style herself?
The next morning, Brad broke the news of a ban on white gowns at the Oscars. Rachel whined, “I hate no white.” Fear not, she utilized the Lam in this Bazaar spread with Atwood.
Wrapping things up at 
Across the coast in NYC, Rachel’s first stop was L.A.M.B for a little pow-wow with Gwen Stefani. Zoe undulated over the clothes, but Gwen maintained her distance and even gave a little cut eye. 
Stefani modeled this dope coat. L.A.M.B. is okay except for their tendency to recapitulate the same trends: plaid, leather, zoot suit. Also, you really need to be at least 5’7″ to wear her wide leg pants or risk drowning.
After her meeting with Gwen, Rachel got a call from Naomi Campbell who requested that she pull 90-100 looks for Fashion for Relief Haiti scheduled to open Mercedes-Benz Fashion Week 72 hours later. Despite the short-notice, Rachel of course agreed – nobody says no to Mz. Campbell.
The huge project meant Brad had to hop the first flight to NYC to help Rachel throw together the benefit. Through flurries, Rachel arrived at the Haiti for Relief production offices and surveyed the pitiful clothing selection. The snowy weather caused the whole city to grind to a halt, and the samples weren’t exactly pouring in. 
Brad pled, begged, and blackberried every contact he had in the industry with virtually no results. Rachel tried to put together outfits with the meager pickings, but without accessories, shoes, or a wide variety of clothes, the looks were more Filene’s Basement than Fendi.
Brad’s frustrating lack of urgency panicked Rachel even further. Nobody wants to be at the receiving end of Naomi Campbell’s dragon fire, and Rachel should be skerred since Naomi could crack her open like crème brûlée.
Rachel complained to Brad about the lack of clothes, and in turn Brad kvetched to the others about being on Rachel’s shit list. A minion asked Brad if he’d contacted Jimmy Choo, and he responded, “Let’s do Choo!” No fucking shit dumbass. You’ve been sitting around all fucking day creasing your brow and whining about not having shoes, and it didn’t occur to you to call Jimmy Fucking Choo? Brad is officially useless.
Naomi rolled in and doled out “hellos” mistakenly calling Brad “Brian,” as he turned bright red with embarrassment and fear. Naomi surveyed the scene and immediately freaked out at the shortage. Brad tried to serve Naomi excuses, but she wasn’t having it, arguing he should have brought any problems to her attention sooner. Duck Brad!
Overnight, the news of Alexander McQueen’s untimely demise broke, and this cast a dark shadow over all of fashion week. To honor him, Naomi planned to add a small McQueen tribute to the end of the Fashion for Relief runway show.
One of the models, Ralph Plaisimond, a Haitian, was in the country during the earthquake. As he told of his experience, Rachel couldn’t cope with anything beyond the superficial, so she departed to self-soothe in the other room. Proving once again white people suck, Rachel launched into a racist diatribe claiming she’s always been “obsessed” with Haitians (like Haitians are the new must-have Chanel bag), before turning to Brad and pawing a rack bragging, “they are all Giamba…”
The next day, looks started pouring in. This was more likely a result of Naomi connections than Brad’s hustle, but either way the influx saved Brad’s ass.
On the morning of the show, Rachel hurried to order the looks and finish the fittings while Brad wandered around aimlessly, failing to take charge of the chaos backstage. Despite the general disorganization, the models managed to execute the extremely complicated task of getting dressed and walking down the runway. In the end, the show came together and was surprisingly not a total clusterfuck.
The show closed with a tribute to King McQueen where everyone choked up at the loss of a true genius. The void he left will never be filled. We love and admire you always Alexander.
The maternal surprise theme continued this week when Nik imported Jill’s mom to L.A. for a weekend of wedding planning. The three ladies hit the wedding dress store posthaste to find the perfect gown for Jill. The dress they selected was an improvement over the previous option, but overall it wasn’t particularly spectacular or original. Wonder if they have adequately considered that two brides marching down the aisle side-by-side in white dresses will inevitably draw comparisons over who looked better?
Next, the couple took Jill’s mom to the cliffside mansion wedding location in Malibu. Jill and her Mom had a moment on the beach, and Jill’s mom expressed her blessing for the union. With the support of her mom, Jill blossomed and began to truly emanate the irrepressible glow of a bride to be.
Rose and Natalie arrived in Palm Springs and headed straight for Dinah Shore’s actual house which they rented for their weekend of relationship destruction. Natalie and Rose managed to keep the peace through the first night at the white party. However, by the next day’s pool party, Rose started popping off. The two got into it over going to the ladies room. This gave Rose the excuse she needed to run off and flirt with other women while ignoring Nat.
Instead of crying in her cheap beer, Natalie made her own fun dancing with friends. Later, Rose returned back to the rental house, and just as she was explaining to her friend that she and Natalie were “on a break,” she opened the bedroom door and saw Natalie packing up her belongings. Finally, Natalie asserted herself against Rose’s unreasonable bitchiness and kicked her ass to the curb — hopefully for good!
Mikey followed up last week’s public wedding proposal with another grand gesture: a tattoo of Raquel’s name across her wrist. Apparently Mikey hasn’t gotten the memo that this cliché is the kiss of death for relationships. At Dinah, Raquel, surprisingly prudish, couldn’t completely stomach the flamboyant display of lezzie love, so she and Mikey ended up spending most of their time in their hotel room lacing and unlacing her corset.
Stamie and Tracy teamed up to shoot a PSA for California health care. Stamie brought her daughter, Dautry, in an effort to force Zory to meet her. Zory and Dautry had a moment and bonded over lollipops, but it did little to ease the palpable tension between Zory and Stamie.
Later, Stamie admitted she was ready to have Tracy back full time and for Zory to go home. Ultimately, the visit served its purpose as it did seem to soften Zory’s anti-lesbian resolve. The gang closed out the evening by singing Tracy’s twenties goodbye. Tracy, it is a mistake to waste your remaining youth and hotness playing two mommies with another woman’s kids.
Whitney, essentially the Grand Marshal of the Dinah Shore dyke parade, dropped in on Palm Springs with a crew of enthusiastic Sapphics. Sara and Whitney engaged in a poolside flirtation, including a little bump and grind, before heading up to the hotel room for an afternoon delight.
The next day, Whitney and Sara coupled up and headed down to the pool party where they ran into none other than the dignity-challenged Romi! Apparently, Romi and Sara connected over Facebook, much to Whitney’s surprise and chagrin. 
Serving Whitney a heaping slice of humble pie, Sara and Romi wasted no time embracing each other and making out in the middle of the pool. In a unexpected turn for Dinah Shore, Whitney returned to her bed alone. Upon the weekend’s conclusion, Whitney declared, “Fuck it, I’m single as hell, so ladies, watch out!”
Josh and Brent engage in amusing (if predictable) first time farmer antics, but the true heart and soul of this show is Farmer John, the animal-loving bear who literally tears up at the mention of his beloved goats. In the pilot, Farmer John explains, “The Beekman was a place for me to bring my goats, which are my life…sorry…” He choked through tears, “My goats are very important to me… shoot!” Fully sobbing he continued, “Without Josh and Brent I wouldn’t have been able to keep ‘em. One of my best and worst traits is that I can become very emotional about my animals.” Don’t miss one of the most humble, lovable, and endearing men on television, the earnest Farmer John. 
The changes at Camp Zoe precipitated a shopping trip to cleanse Taylor’s energy with “new looks.” Rachel settled on “glam rock,” and Brad was pressured into “lesbian DJ chic.” In reality, Zoe served bony Fraggle, and Brad gave us last year’s Eurotrash.
Once the new looks were procured, attention turned to dressing the 2010 Golden Globe attendees: Kate Hudson, Cameron Diaz, Jennifer Garner, and possibly Paula Patton.
Brad welcomed Ashley to her first day at the Zoe asylum. His very first words of advice were a cryptic warning to watch out for Taylor when she’s out pulling styles for the Globes.
Rachel planned on an architectural Marchesa for Kate Hudson. Even though she already had it in a bold and unique berry flavor, she insisted on getting it remade in white. For Cameron, Rachel and Brad eyed a red cap-sleeved McQueen gown. Garner apparently had a dress boner for some lilac (looked grey) beaded Versace that still needed to be lined. Four attendees and no confirmed dresses sent Rachel into an unnecessary fit of anxiety. She ordered an immediate edit, dividing the great from the mediocre on the racks.
Ashley tried to add her opinion, but her input was drowned out by Rachel and Brad’s “so mayjahs!” While rolling in the racks, Paula Patton was confirmed as an attendee, and Rachel immediately delegated dressing her to the newbie Ashley. Crystal Gayle-haired Ashley stopped by Starworks to collect wardrobe options for Paula Patton. She pulled tent after shapeless tent for the pregnant Paula; none of it looking particularly Globe-worthy.
Rachel obsessed over some Versace gown that she had only peeped in a sketch. From the sketch alone, it was obvious this dress was totally inappropriate for the Globes and Cameron Diaz. Why would Cameron Diaz wear a long-sleeved grey granny gown to the Globes? The sacred dress was accidentally handed off to the wrong courier at the hotel, and Team Zoe lost their proverbial shit trying to find it. Finally Lucio, Versace’s rep, called with the news that the dress had taken a sojourn to Malibu to visit Pierce Brosnan, but had been located and was on its way. As soon as it arrived, wrinkled, grey, long-sleeved, and matte, it was abundantly clear that the dress would never work. After all the unnecessary drama, Rachel dismissed the dress and Lucio with a squint eye and flip of the hand.
During Brad’s extra homosexual pilates lesson, he had an epiphany that he should encourage Ashley to speak up and voice her opinion. When Ashley arrived the next morning, Brad explained that he brings the gay man’s perspective, but Ashley needed to vocalize the female perspective because he did not wear women’s clothes. Really Brad?
Brad broke the news to Rachel that Taylor is dressing a producer for the Golden Globes. Rachel soured at the notion and then announced she was too busy taking the high road. She told Rodger, “I hate the high road.” If this is Rachel taking the high road, what does it look like when she rolls in the gutter? 
Brad called Rachel and informed her that the dress they pulled for Cammie was from Alexander McQueen Autumn/Winter 09. Rachel declared this unacceptable, even though any stylist worth her Gucci would know what collection that McQueen came from the minute it entered the showroom. Even if it is “archive,” if it hasn’t been photographed, who gives a fuck? 
Zoe favorite Molly Simms stopped by to collect looks for the Art of Elysium and InStyle parties. Molly declared, “I’m not nominated, I’m not presenting…” No shit you aren’t nominated or presenting. Seriously, who did you blow to even get invited? Simms hung all over “Bradley,” and whirled around the studio slipping in and out of gowns. One of the most frustrating things about this show is that they never pick the best look! This was the best look.
However, this ill-fitting, blue, upholstered Ports 1961 mess was selected for Art of Elysium, and a shapeless Marchesa tent for the Globes party. We all know you are trying to get into Weinstein’s good graces, but please stop trying to make Marchesa happen. Wearing Marchesa to the Globes is like wearing Jessica McClintock to prom.
Bieber-haired Rodger tried to get reacquainted with his nutsack by watching the playoffs with the boys. In a hyper display of masculinity, Rodger scooped up his friend’s baby, cradled it gently, and insisted on taking a picture and sending it to Rachel.
Rain clouds gathered, and this sent Team Zoe into a tizzy, declaring the weather “not fair” and a “nightmare!” The idea of her clients encumbered by holding up their gowns and the money shots cluttered with umbrellas caused Rachel to dub the entire event a “fashion disaster!”
Team Zoe gathered on the couch to see the attendees work the carpet. First Cam in the red McQueen: this is a gorgeous dress, but we can agree that these are the wrong shoes. As you already know, red lips with a red dress is a no-no; a softer lip was needed to avoid looking garish. 
After Rose ditched Natalie at the bar with no ride and no keys last week, we caught Rose surreptitiously meeting up with her ex-girlfriend, the famous Angel, behind Natalie’s back. Rose justified the deception by saying that Angel makes her feel better and puts things in perspective. Angel, smarter than Natalie, called Rose on her bullshit saying, “It’s always about you and what you need and never about anything else. I’m done.” Upon realizing that Angel was not going to be her soft place to land, Rose cut her losses and went groveling back to an overly-forgiving Natalie. Grow a pair and dump her ass Natalie!
With the guilt of last night’s strap-on interlude on her conscience, Whitney attempted to clean up the remnants of the White Trash Party. She and Alyssa clumsily maneuvered the nauseating mixture of cream corn, lube, and shame into a shopping cart which they wheeled over to some nearby dumpsters. Whitney, you can dispose of your lubed corn evidence, but the karmic stench of that grimy pune juggling will stick with you forever.
Tracy’s mom, Zory, surprised her for her 30th birthday. Even though Zory has had difficulty adjusting to Tracy’s lesbian turn, Tracy decided it would be a good idea to take her to Stamie’s unedited comedy routine. In the world’s most awkward first meeting, Tracy introduced her mom to a surprised Stamie. The three stood around in silence for forty-five seconds before Stamie took the stage to bust out her graphic lesbian jokes. Way to ease your mom into it Tracy!
After dinner, things went from awkward to borderline offensive when Tracy asked her mom if she wanted to meet Stamie’s kids, and Zory responded with stone-cold silence. Stamie rightfully found her lack of enthusiasm alienating, which caused her to give up on Zory and cool towards Tracy. If bad blood develops between Stamie and Zory, it is a direct result of Tracy’s failure to adequately manage this situation. This disastrous first meeting will ripple consequences for months to come.
Brooklyn Fashion Weekend’s blonder cousin L.A. Fashion Weekend finally arrived, and Mikey prepped for the headlining runway show: Richie Sambora’s line White Trash Beautiful. The fact that this was the marquee fashion line speaks to the utter irrelevancy of L.A. Fashion. Ava Sambora, Richie and Heather Locklear’s daughter, was scheduled to walk in the show. She and her mother showed up to Mikey’s office for a fitting and flattery. Mikey fawned over a barely-recognizable T.J. Hooker, while Ava rolled her eyes at the overblown gushing. Mikey continued to flirt with a loopy Locklear until Raquel showed up under the pretext of delivering a surprise gift of balloons and flowers.
After a brief panic over the lighting on the step and repeat, Mikey took the stage to open the White Trash Beautiful show. As for the clothes, drop the “White” and drop the “Beautiful” and all you have left is “Trash,” and that’s probably the best description of the mishmash of fugly that paraded down the runway. Mikey drew extra attention to the shameless demonstration of Sambora nepotism by announcing Ava’s name over the loudspeaker like it was some church fashion show. The single most shocking moment was the tight shot of Heather Locklear’s face. Girl, chill with the fillers, damn.
Mikey rounded out her professional triumph by bringing Raquel on stage for a grand wedding proposal in front of the dazzling selection of C-listers. Naturally, Raquel accepted, and the two shared a romantic backstage kiss. Mazel Ladies!
We’ve been waiting to get the dish on the Taylor and Rachel blow up, and the season three premiere of The Rachel Zoe Project wasted no time in addressing the splinter. 
At the end of last season, Rodger stepped in to handle the books. Rodger broke the news to Rachel that Taylor didn’t really give a fuck when confronted over sketchy expense reports. As a result, he let her go. Rachel lied to Rodger constantly about her spending last season. If the expense reports were sketchy, he should start his inquiries with her. 
In typical Zoe fashion, Rachel completely overreacted, unable to accept that she had been betrayed by her “blessed jewel.” Rachel, have you met Taylor? Furthermore, is this your first day in the styling industry? Fashion is a cruel mistress filled with bitter backstabbing bitches. Anybody with staying power learns early: trust no one.
Brad, Jordan, and Marisa showed up for a staff meeting so Rodger could break the news that was already splattered all over the internet: Taylor was no longer with the company. Rachel implored her lackeys to recover every sample and shred of company property in Taylor’s possession.
Simultaneously, Brad looked ebullient with his promotion to Style Director and terrified at the realization that he would now have to run this ship without Captain Taylor Bitchface. No surprise that the preeminent assignment for Team Zoe was to find a replacement for Taylor.
Rachel and Rodger interviewed a series of under-qualified, inarticulate candidates, none of which appear to have the fashion knowledge, personal style, or constitution to replace Taylor. Despite Taylor’s obvious flaws, she clearly ran thangs over at Camp Zoe. Rachel spins like a well-dressed Muppet on a dradle, but appears to accomplish very little other than to sycophantically gush and twirl.
Brad and Rachel flipped through look books searching for high-fashion editorial looks for Demi’s Bazaar cover. Both expressed anxiety over pleasing Kutcher’s piece since she had previously worked almost exclusively with Taylor. 
At the Bazaar shoot, Rachel pulled Chanel, Oscar de la Renta, Alexander McQueen, Dior, and some mayjah red sequined Wizard of Oz Louboutins. However, watching a fifty-something Demi Moore unironically play coquettish housewife conjured the chunder. Also, the hair is off in this shot, no?
Finally, the much-anticipated Marc Jacobs bloomer outfit arrived, albeit without the necessary undergarments. Instead of employing actual creative styling talent and reworking the look, the incomplete outfit caused Rachel to nix the ensemble entirely in favor of a Carolina Herrera gown. Work that bustle Demi!
The mundane shoot got an immediate upgrade with the appearance of the giraffe. Demi climbed a stairway to the sky where she looked eye to eye with the gorgeous creature. While feeding the giraffe atop twelve inch McQueen platforms, Demi nearly tumbled head over stilts. In the struggle between the giraffe and Demi, frankly, I was pulling for the giraffe. Imagine a subscriber cover with Demi Moore face-planted in the sand? That would move magazines. 
To wrap the episode on an especially spiteful final note, Rachel set images of Taylor from Paper ablaze in the fireplace. The article stated that Taylor was no longer with Rachel Zoe. Parsing for subtext here, the inference is that Taylor planned to leave all along, and Paper Magazine knew it before Rachel did.
Her haze of self-perceived victimization prevented Rachel from adequately acknowledging Taylor’s huge contribution to the Rachel Zoe name, aesthetic, and business. Through her skewed, self-absorbed perspective, Rachel failed to recognize that Taylor walked away with nothing except bad press, whereas she has benefited, and will continue to benefit from years of Taylor’s hard work. To add insult to injury, Rachel utilized her show as a platform from which to defame Taylor and limit her future professional prospects. If Taylor is a backstabbing bitch, it’s just because Rachel has taught her everything she knows.