I hate to break it to my wonderful coworkers here at PurseBlog, but I think that I want to work at People’s Revolution. As long as I get paid more than Tandrew, that is. That’s an important stipulation, write that one down. Although it seems like his job is open…
This week’s episode of Kell on Earth was filled with more of the strangely fascinating fashion minutiae that everyone has come to know and love, plus an Addams Family dinner party, a Versace chair, jaunty little hats, Ava in her mom’s sparkly heels, and lots more office-wide wingman action in an attempt to get a member of the staff laid. When have Megs and Vlad ever done that for me, huh?!?! That’s what I call a job with perks.
But wait…weren’t the police supposed to be called last night? Didn’t we see a panicking Kelly and an NYPD cruiser in the previews all week? I’m suddenly feeling a bit cheated, and no explanation is forthcoming from the People’s Rev team on why the footage was cut (I asked them on Twitter and actually felt like a reporter for a second.)
Back to the task at hand: our episode started with the saga of Tandrew. Remember him? He’s…well, he’s tan. He was the one presented with a bottle of lube last week, right before Kelly and Andrew crashed his blind date. He has a lisp and Britney Spears lyrics tattooed on the insides of his wrists, and he’s bucking for the title of Gayest Gay Ever. Well, at least Gayest Gay on Kell on Earth, and since the other Andrew regularly wears skirts, that’s sort of an accomplishment.
Anyway, Tandrew is unhappy. He’s from sunny, optimistic California, where his orange color is more widely accepted and he’s allowed to give everyone blonde highlights, not just Skinner. When he was hired and promised his piddling little salary (he said $15k, right? I made more than that when I worked at Best Buy in college), they told him that he would be able to return to his golden homeland to stock up on his favorite self-tanner, which is banned in New York (or, you know, he was there to go to a wedding. Whatever).
But really, it went much further than that. Tandrew hates his job because Robyn talks to him like he’s a moron (which, in fairness, he might be) and he doesn’t get paid enough to sit and listen to it, plus now they don’t want him to go to California, even though his trip had already been approved. In response, he did what we’ve all wanted to do once or twice in our lives: he went on vacation and never came back. He just…stayed. He called the office and quit, so I guess he can think of the bottle of organic lube from last week as a parting gift.
With yet another member of the group gone and still no new hires, things were getting a little tense around the office. What better way to solve this problem than a group walk around the neighborhood, which never means just walking when Kelly Cutrone is with you. She likes to talk to random passersby and attempt to procure dates for her staff, and this time Robyn was the one that needed a good man. Instead of letting Kelly pick, as she should have, Robyn flagged down a slightly homeless-looking dude with an accent that “made books.” Or was an artist. Or something. Thankfully he went back to Seattle eventually, or else Robyn might have married him by now.
Kelly Cutrone doesn’t give up easily when it comes to finding dates and/or quasi-anonymous hookups for her employees, however, so she was back to pounding the pavement (or, rather, pounding the glasses of wine) almost immediately, hitting on a waiter while having drinks with Emily and Robyn. I must say that I’d be happy to have Kelly hit on guys for me any time – she always manages to get results. The waiter’s number was procured, text messages were sent, the rest is a secret.
I can’t decide if Kelly’s flirtatious abilities will be awesome or embarrassing by the time her daughter Ava is old enough to date, but it looks like she’s done a good job raising an awesome daughter so far. Not only did Ava delight the entire office by tottering around in a pair of her mom’s heels (a trick that we all tried when we were kids, just with far less fabulous shoes), but she lectured her grandmother about how superior Target is to Wal-Mart. It took me until I was approximately 12 to figure that out, so she’s way ahead of the game.
The real star of this show, however, was Andrew. We finally got to learn a little bit more about the goth/glam/gay assistant, including his fashion loves (Rick Owens, Givenchy, McQueen), living arrangements (ultra-fab apartment next to his parents, complete with a great view of the city and a signature-print Versace chair), and his social preferences (lots of black-clad fashion girls). He is easily my favorite person on this entire show, and his decision to throw an Addams Family-themed dinner party, complete with headless roses and superfierce zebra chairs only continued to convince me that he and I are straight girl/gay guy soul mates. Come to me, Andrew. I’ll sneak into the milliner’s workshop and steal you as many silly little hats as your heart desires.
Skinner obviously doesn’t realize how much she should appreciate his awesomeness, because she was two hours late to his dinner party, which started at nine. She blamed work, but on a Friday night that excuse seemed a little weak. Andrew shouldn’t have held dinner for her, but she should have definitely called to say she wasn’t going to make it on time.
When I worked in marketing, there were nights that I was there late, sure. I get the idea that Skinner makes it a habit, however, and I’m not sure that she’s getting a good return on her time investment. The predicament that she’s in is exactly why you should always be careful of setting high expectations about your work ethic and willingness to become married to your job – if you do it for a little while to get in good with the boss, he or she is going to expect it all the time, and pretty soon you’ve screwed yourself royally and can’t get out of work before midnight on a Friday. Low expectations are your friends, ladies, and don’t ever let a career counselor tell you otherwise.
Really, all you have to do is be awesome and find other ways to ingratiate yourself (bring lattes, tell her she has pretty hair, it really depends on the boss), and before long you’ll be getting out early to throw catered dinner parties from your city-view apartment in which everyone will sit on zebra chairs that you then gift to your favorite blogger because of all the good life advice she gave you back in the day. And also, the Versace chair. That’s just how it happens. I don’t make the rules.
Original post by Amanda Mull
