Kids Writing Books

Lainey Posted by Lainey at June 4, 2008 12:49:48 June 4, 2008 12:49:48

Experiencing midweek blues? Perfect time to feel badly about yourself. Unfortunately I’m not about to offer a solution. This is your warning to skip ahead. Her name is Catherine Banner. She was 14 when she wrote this book. Now 19, it has finally been published, on sale today in England, the first in a trilogy and already predicted to be a bestseller. Full Story

The Best Angles Find the Best Hair

Lainey Posted by Lainey at June 4, 2008 11:29:51 June 4, 2008 11:29:51

You know I’ve been saying it for months: under the right light, when she’s rockin’ her best angles, my Rumey is not ugly. With a new hair cut at a length that’s just so, Rumer Willis is finally proving that she’s actually straight up cute. See? Here’s Rumey last night at the launch of the Op campaign – she is featured in the ads. Full Story

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Elizabeth Grant Cannes Exclusive Giveaway!!!

Lainey Posted by Lainey at June 4, 2008 09:10:04 June 4, 2008 09:10:04

My broken arm seriously hampered the swag hunt but I’d be remiss if there was nothing to offer you as thanks for continuing to visit the site even when I was one-hand blogging…which is why, exclusive to LaineyGossip.com, it’s the Cannes Swag Giveaway featuring Elizabeth Grant Skincare! Elizabeth Grant was featured in the luxury gifting suite this year – Goldie Hawn, Selma Hayek, Kelly Rowland, Julia Ormond, Paz Vega, and that lazy twat Mischa Barton all received the following. Full Story

Gwyneth Judges… again

Lainey Posted by Lainey at June 4, 2008 08:22:52 June 4, 2008 08:22:52

Can’t wait for regular minivan mommies to read Gwyneth Paltrow’s new interview with Harper’s Bazaar and sh*t on her all over again. By all accounts, from many many people who actually know her, including several we met during our travels in Cannes, my Gwynnie is, like, the sweetest person ever. Full Story

Mr & Mrs Junior Loser

Lainey Posted by Lainey at June 4, 2008 07:22:47 June 4, 2008 07:22:47

This made my life. Thanks to Catherine for sending. Tori Spelling and that golddigging piece of sh*t she married are promoting a new season of their dumbass reality show. Apparently neither can get booked on the regular publicity circuit. As such, they’ve had to resort to this: hiring a planeto do that sky-writing business … see attached. Full Story

Kate Supporting Stella

Lainey Posted by Lainey at June 4, 2008 06:39:02 June 4, 2008 06:39:02

They’ve been friends for a long time. You know that Oscar monstrosity Kate wore to the Oscars was designed by Stella who was with Chloe at the time, right? Do you remember? Now that is true friendship. So it was no surprise to see Kate Hudson yesterday at the Stella McCartney Spring 2009 presentation in the West Village. Full Story

Mischa Found

Lainey Posted by Lainey at June 4, 2008 06:36:16 June 4, 2008 06:36:16

She has skipped out on almost all of her press obligations to promote that tAtu movie she made. She’s been called out by the producers for her unprofessional attitude. She disappeared for a week to lay low during previously scheduled commitments. But worry not, gossips. Mischa Barton is fine and was in LA last night at, where else?, a party. Full Story

June 4, 2008 – Smutty Shout-Outs

Lainey Posted by Lainey at June 4, 2008 06:33:28 June 4, 2008 06:33:28

Happy Birthday Jane! From your friend Rebecca who says: 40 the new 30? Bitch, please! 40 is the new 25! To Dawn – happy, happy 26th. I love you. Hope you have a super-smutty birthday. Love your big sis Nadine. Good luck to Danielle and Diva Q who are competing in the Ontario Series of BBQ Championships this weekend in Paris, Ontario! Am hoping you’ll make it to Tennessee. Full Story

Tuesday, June 3, 2008

Dear Gossips,

My mother would be the first to tell you – she can’t cook for ass. What she can do however more than makes up for her culinary incompetence. Because nothing is more important during a Chinese home dinner than the soup. And my mother boils a mean soup. Like real soup. Soup that takes work. She gets up early for this soup. She picks the best bones, the leanest chicken, she uses the best herbs (welly expensive!) and she slow simmers that soup for hours. For the whole day. Until it’s perfect. Until drinking it promises to clear your skin and unblock your intestines, rid your lungs of smoke, make your hair grow faster, and when we were younger we even believed some Chinese soup recipes could give you an extra 3 inches. Like we’d be destined to hover at under 5 feet if we didn’t polish off the bowl in front of us, especially before it cooled down, lest it lose all its potency.

Yes… we Chinese believe that soup is magic. We grow up thinking it will make us whole, that if we’ve gone without it for too long, our bodies are rotting from the insides. Which is why whenever I come home to Toronto, no matter how short the visit, I need my soup. I need my soup badly. I also happen to have a mother who uses this as leverage.

She brought it for me in a thermos on Sunday night at the hotel after I’d landed. They left the house well after 10pm, headed downtown with a bagful of fruit and soup. First thing my father did when he walked in the door was to peel me an orange.

My mother, on the other hand, started picking through my sh*t under the guise of helping me hang it all up…because of course I have a gimpy arm. She got as far as taking out my toiletries when she struck gold, pulling out my brand new Andrea Brueckner mini satchel in bright yellow, my bag for the summer, and declared that I would give it to her because she doesn’t have one in that colour. Before I could answer, she pointed to the thermos of soup sitting on the table and urged me to drink it before it got cold.

I told her she could have it in the fall. This seemed to placate her. Then she demanded that I give her a key to my room. So she could drop off more soup the following day without having to disturb my “busy schedule”.
Yeah that would be a hell no.

I closed my eyes and politely declined. I swear I heard my father groan inwardly. And then the poor guests on the 12th floor of my hotel, at 11 o’clock on a Sunday night were treated to a dose of the Squawking Chicken, who huffed and puffed and let out an earsplitting diatribe about the ingratitude of her only child.

My punishment?

As a result of my rejection, she announced pointedly at my father that she’d have to go console herself at Casino Niagara instead.

This is my mother’s gift, see? She can always create for herself a win/win situation.

But still… I came in late a couple of hours ago from the CTV Upfronts and there it was: a thermos of soup on the nightstand. She made a pit stop after the slot machines and somehow conned the front desk into opening the door.

So I’m writing you now between sips of stinky broth, bracing myself for the guilt trip later on. They’re driving me to the airport tonight. No bowl goes unpunished. Trust.

Tuesday – am blogging all day, with the juice of Chinese soup coursing through me…refresh, refresh, refresh!

Yours in gossip,

Lainey

PS. Loving your thoughts on Sex & the City. Unable to reply to all but am reading every word. Promise!