I grew up in the 80s, I grew up obsessing over Dynasty and the Cosby Show. I grew up loving and hating Alexis Morrell Carrington Colby Dexter Rowan. So needless to say, when she walked into the IT Lounge on Saturday, I fought like hell to keep from losing my sh*t.
Swag at TIFF isn’t as in-your-face as Sundance but the product presence is still palpable and many of the suites are set up at the Four Seasons, also where some of the junkets are, resulting in a clusterf-ck from morning to night outside the hotel.
So I’m inside the International Trends Lounge, dropped in to see a few fellow gossips, when this unmistakeable voice glides into the room. The kind of voice that has a smell, you know how that is? My mother’s voice smells like garlic and looks like a chicken. Joan Collins’s voice smells like black pearl perfume and looks like Alexis.
“Oh Dah-ling…I don’t have much time.”
And there she was. Big hair, animal print blouse, black skirt, great legs, animal print pumps, she drifted in expecting to be fawned over, unremarkable husband shuffling behind her, selectively stopping at Timberland for her grandchildren, and of course at The Right Hand Gal for a diamond pendant and after that, she turned her head and I could swear she looked THROUGH me, even though her eyes were hooded with black black sunglasses, I was invisible to Joan Collins, and it takes a very special bitch – my favourite kind – to be able to look THROUGH someone, pretend they don’t exist, to remind them that they don’t exist, to make them feel completely insignificant, and STILL earn their admiration.
Seriously gossips…I was witness to Fabulous Personified. There really is nothing like it.