Attention all. Megan has a blog. It is as snide and hilarious as you would imagine it to be. Go there, bitches.
http://www.megabitchmegan.com
Of particular note is one post about the show itself that was referred to in Project Rungay that I could not find in the blog itself. I found it cached in
google and I have no idea why she would delete it since it's pure Megan goodness and it answers a lot of questions that people were wondering.
"If you don't have something nice to
say…don't say anything at all"
THE ONLY INTERVIEW I'M GONNA GIVE…IS THE ONE I JUST GAVE MYSELF.
Posted by: Mega Bitch Megan in Uncategorized
First, I would like to thank the employees of Crunch gym for providing my finale venue of choice. Even though I tripped and fell in front of half the gym when they showed my interview with Robbie, watching myself on the big screen while burning a few calories on the treadmill was a nice way to end my evening…before drinking five glasses of bad white wine with Brett, Joe, and Malina and laughing our asses off over burgers and fries at NYC's corner Bistro.
Moving on now. It has to be said. After the first day I realized I didn't want to be on the show and I didn't want the job as bad as everyone else. I am not obsessed with fashion enough to start at the bottom again. Did I care that they fired me? Sure. At the end of the day it was an ego hit. But the interview went very differently than you saw and CW conveniently left the strong parts out. Oh well. It wasn't that interesting anyways.
The chunk of money.
Please, people. If you think I would ever give details about my life to a tv show and how I opened a company you just took a swig of something strong. After the interviewers battered me for answers and told me I was going to look like a rich bitch I just made that up to shut them up. The last time I checked it was considered uncouth to ask other people about money. You have no idea how offensive it was for someone to ask me on a daily basis about my financials. I opened the store by way of private investors. I wrote a business plan and my business partner and I sold the idea…just like everyone else. I know, it totally blows, I wish I was a trust fund baby too.
Click read the rest of this entry to continue reading…
Editing.
Is a beeyatch. I'm probably one of the least bitchiest people you would ever meet. Yes, I make snarky comments and I don't sensor myself by any means…but I've been like that my entire life and last time I checked it didn't make people send me hate mail. I definitely got the villain edit. Last time I checked telling it like it is doesn't make someone a hideous person. No, I didn't want to carry someone's coffee. Yes, I thought the assistant challenges were a joke and humiliating as all hell and I told people that every single day. I'm not sure the people who did this show have a realistic idea about the industry, how it works, and in my opinion that's exactly why this show ended up sucking so hard. You were bored watching it…imagine how boring it was being on it. I considered jumping out the loft window into oncoming traffic to stop the pain.
Did the right person win?
If you based it on a resume…no. But since it wasn't…yes.
The Story on the final Eve shoot.
Johanna explicitly asked that we not help her with anything. MUSIC TO MY EARS. I wasn't about to throw my ideas out there for sheets and giggles. Not my style. I moaned and groaned my way through the entire day like a 12 year old…I just wanted to go home. It was the most exhausting, embarrassing and degrading experience of my life and somehow one of the best as well. I sat back and watched and counted the minutes to my departure. Eve. Didn't she get busted for a DUI? I hope that was on one of the covers. She was sweet but I was too busy trying not to throw myself over the balcony to notice anything else going on around me.
The whole cancer thing.
Some bitch just wrote me a comment about how he heard I had cancer and I didn't. Well, you get the douche bag of the year award. Two days after leaving Stylista I was diagnosed with cancer. In the end I was misdiagnosed for about a month but had to have a large benign mass removed from my neck and it sucked ass. The drugs they gave me were a freaking blast though. I don't feel like commenting any further on that subject. All I can say is that I'm happy and I'm healthy. It was freaking scary and I'm afraid of doctors now.
Fashion.
Is just a freaking job. DEAR GOD. And you know what…you work long hours…get paid a shit salary…you have to decide if it's worth it. In my next life I would like to be good at something besides choosing a dress off of a rack. It's a bullshit industry but I love it. It has zero substance and I can't stand most people who take it seriously but hats of to them for enjoying a designers work. I must say I swoon over clothes on some days…but most days I'm just doing my job. I'd rather be at the beach. We're not changing lives…certainly we're not adding depth to our souls. Dropping out of college was not something I had to say but it's the truth and my expertise comes from hands on experience. In the fashion world that's all that counts. Anyone in the industry can tell you to that. I GET IT. I'M YOUNG…I have a lot of experience to go. Blah blah blah…I with you on that one, trust me. Dyshaun and I have done our bitch work. We started at the bottom. I've carried the coffee, done other people's taxes, walked their dogs, picked up their tampons from the drug store, and schlepped all over this city in honor of the fashion God's. You want my advice…if you like fashion…don't go into fashion. Your shoes aren't gonna pay for themselves and this bizz will drive you batty.
Designers.
They work their asses off. The small ones who deserve all the praise sell their houses to produce their collections and give up their lives for their work. Those are the people to respect. I had a serious problem with Johanna treating Richard Ruiz the way she did. It was unprofessional and degrading. There we were, his assistants, trying to tell him what to do? I would have bitch slapped us both and told the producers to go off themselves in the back bathroom. Richard, you're a talent, thanks for putting up with us…even though I know you wanted to kill us both. Bless you.
The Last Interview.
First of all, I was bored with having a store, I got a great offer from a fabulous girl to buy it, and the last time I checked the goal of starting a business was to sell it. I know nothing about Robbie Myers and I still don't. She's no Anna wintour…and thank God because I would vomit on my shoes if someone told me I was going to interview with her for a gig. They chopped out my entire interview and made me look like a total moron. Sometimes I am a total moron but this was not one of those times. Robbie didn't want me to work for her…I didn't want to work for Robbie…end of story. There's no way in hell that woman would keep me employed on her staff if I reported to her. Anne Slowey and Joe Zee are a different story. They've got personality. Just beause you're important and it was an interview didn't mean you couldn't change up your voice or get excited about meeting me. I'd just spent weeks making an idiot out of myself of national television because I wanted the job the least she could do was act excited. And I didn't have any questions for her. I respect the woman a great deal but I wasn't into the interview. It felt cold and awkward and the lighting, cameras made it seem staged. I was ready to evac the situation, throw back some tequila, pop a horse tranquilizer, and forget it ever happened after being voted off.
My minion.
Oh Dyshaun….how I love thee. It's really too bad they made you look like such an asshole. You're freaking hysterical…Malina and I were talking about it last night. Thanks for getting me through the whole thing. I miss sleeping next to you on that terrible ikea couch. I miss you making fun of fashion with me. I miss you binge eating eggo waffles in the morning. You're the best…even if you do call me Chlamydia, make fun of me to my face, and tell me you miss my pimples. You're a rockstar stylist.
The Insults.
Well, I guess the jig is up. I'm one ugly witch and if I ever forget it I have lots of people to remind me. The comments were hard in the beginning but eventually, if people tell you you're hideous on enough occasions…you just remind yourself that plastic surgery is your best option, yell at your mother for lying about your beauty your whole life, realize why you got dumped that one time, and move on.
The Other Contestants.
Love them all. Would do the whole thing all over again just to meet them. Seriously. Bisous.
The End Result.
I have an incredible amount of respect for Anne Slowey, Joe Zee, Brett Ramey, and Malina Joseph. I think Elle is the best magazine on the stand and it would have been an honor to work with the magazine for a year. I'm grateful to CW11 for the experience, and all the people who worked really hard to make this show happen.
Ah, well, I guess we all look like assholes together.
Xoxo
Meg
