vice regal

A little bit of vice can be quite nice. Surely the odd vice makes virtues shine even brighter. My vices are obvious to anyone who cares to note: champagne, shoes and gourmet morsels. I'm also partial to a spot of make-up and deliciously painted toes. These are nice vices. Nobody's hurt, I'm unlikely to be inflicted with a ravaging illness as a result (well, obviously that depends on the amount of champagne or cocktails consumed...) My other vice is that I'm also a not-so-sneaky viewer of trashy telly.

I swore that I would not watch The Rachel Zoe Project. I loathed so much about her - and particularly the way the show was promoted (With Zoe saying "That's Ahmahzing" in the most ridiculously affected manner I nearly threw a shoe at the TV screen). But of course, solitary confinement on a couch means there's only so many programs to watch and I sneaked a peek - and got totally sucked in. I'm in love with her mini-YSL assistant Brad. LOVE HIM. And her other assistant? Mean and cranky Taylor? Televisual gold. And her closet, O.M.G. her closet - it makes me die. The scary thing is though, that on the show she doesn't look skinny - which worries me, because I know she's damned thin. I also want to know what she did to turn her forehead from its Gordon Ramsay-esque wrinkled state to smooth, yet not botox-shiny and extreme. Fillers? Brow lift? It is quite magnificent. And her hubby? Cute, puppy Rodger? Love him too. How did I so quickly turn from loathe to love?