Friday, February 16, 2007

Kelly Wearstler Née Gallagher Shows You How It’s Done in St. Tropez, Takes Roof Off Her NSFW Cabana

Oh, possums, and here you thought we were going to write a headline about a designer matching carpets and drapes, or about Gallagher’s watermelons.

Frankly, possums, we’re hurt that you would think us capable of that. Just how do you see us?

All we want is equality. Seeing as how this week's episode of Top Design has such a large soft-core component to it, what with the plethora of rippling, muscled, hairless carpenters with dime-sized nipples, why should our straight brothers and lesbian sisters be deprived of similar delights?

And it is on behalf of our straight brothers and lesbian sisters that we were disappointed in this episode. As should have become apparent to any sentient Bravo viewer, judge Kelly Wearstler is running in the Fug Cup against Top Chef’s Padma Lakshmi, though it appears that, even this early in the race, she is leaving Padma in the Jo Malone-scented dust. Now, when Top Chef had a beach challenge, Padma dutifully put on a bikini and some truly god-awful accoutrements, and we were looking forward to the same from Kelly.

There has been some debate in the servants’ quarter at Withering Depths as to whether Kelly actually wore Balenciaga to the beach, which would be fabulous in its own way. But whether it was Balenciaga (the parlor maid’s theory), or Donna Karan (the cook’s theory), or Michael Kors (the footman’s theory), it was still a dress and not a bikini. We were very disappointed indeed.

Then a little bird, a cormorant nicknamed Coleridge after The Rime of the Ancient Mariner, whispered in our ear that our Kelly had once, when she still used her nom de jeune fille Gallagher, been Playboy’s Playmate of the Month. We were thrilled, though not surprised. It should be clear to anyone that Kelly is a woman who is used to being looked at. And with good reason.

On-ship photographer Laz, braver and hardier than we, pored through the Playboy archives, and--wouldn’t you know it?--there she was, our Kelly, as roofless as if she were on the beach in St. Tropez (Ryan did say that St. Tropez was about topless women).

And we were right about the drawl; she hails from Myrtle Beach, South Carolina. Furthermore, according to Wikipedia, her September 1994 centerfold “appears very briefly in the 1995 film Welcome to the Dollhouse, affixed to the inside of a school locker.”

These are Kelly’s stats from the Playboy website:

BIRTHPLACE: Myrtle Beach, South Carolina
BUST: 34" C
WAIST: 24"
HIPS: 35"
HEIGHT: 5' 6"
WEIGHT: 105 lbs
To own my own marvelous design and furnishings business.
Fabulous, intense minds, honesty, huge smiles and a man with a colossal heart.
Lack of communication, cruelty to animals, slackers, and bad design.
Breakfast in the boudoir, a bit of physical activity, trip to the museum for some mental and visual stimulation, a nibble for two to satisfy the palate and a trip to the beach to see the sun set and the moon rise.
Swap meets, blended coffees, Nicholson Baker novels & good loving.

Our favorite part of this? That she gives a shout-out to literary perv Nicholson Baker. We have memories of reading the punningly titled phone-sex novel Vox in our university library, behind the covers of a linguistics textbook. We were subsequently delighted when the novel came up in the Clinton-Lewinsky scandal because Monica bought it as a gift for Bill. And then there’s also The Fermata, about a man who likes to stop time and take women’s clothes off.

Sly comedienne, interior designer, fashionista, mother, Playboy Playmate, museum-goer, animal-lover, Nicholson Baker reader—could she be any more fabulous? Kelly, we don’t know how it’s possible to love you more, but we think we do. Welcome to the dollhouse indeed.