Everyone on the party circuit observed it this week – Harvey Weinstein and Jessica Alba, always with their heads bowed together, always deep in conversation. He talking at her, she nodding acquiescently. 

At one point he was supposedly overheard giving her advice about her relationship. Harvey doesn’t seem to be a fan of Cash Warren – nothing personal, of course, just pointing out Cash’s limited value on the professional front.

So it looks like Harvey has found himself a new protégé. After unsuccessfully molding Sienna and failing with Scarlett too, Jessica Alba appears to be next in line…a perfect partnership. 

Rumour has it, Harvey likes to use the oldest trick in the book: conveniently choreographed on set romances and leaks from production that somehow make their way to Page Six, heralding the arrival of a new pulchritudinous Hollywood couple and a built in marketing strategy for the movie, totally free of course, well before editing is even complete. 

Don’t be surprised then if Jessica Alba all of a sudden shows up on a red carpet wearing Marchesa.

And a final note on Harvey – at the Chanel party for Cassandra’s Dream on Tuesday, Sasha, Ryan, and I were standing side by side by the door when he was leaving. Ryan had his camera on his shoulder, I was holding the mic, it was plainly obvious we were media.

I am Asian, Sasha is half Asian, and this is a relevant detail because on his way out, Harvey was looking for somewhere to put down his glass. As you would expect at a private party at Chanel, cocktail servers passing around champagne flutes were readily available. Besides, Chanel is not a huge storefront on Bloor. One or two strides at the most and you can find a counter to leave your glass. 

But as Harvey walked past Sasha and me, a bemused smile crossed his face – we must have been a servile, submissive vision to him, the two of us standing there all Asian and sh-t…even though we were dressed not in uniform, even though we were both dressed for the occasion, a condescending, demeaning look crossed his face and he walked up to Sasha, handed her his glass, and told her to “find somewhere to put this down for me, will you?” before turning on his heel and waddling out the door.

Now I’m not one to pull the race card at every turn. But you don’t know unless you grow up a visible minority when it becomes an issue. You don’t know until you feel it burn inside. And I’m telling you, Harvey Weinstein looked at us and that’s what he saw: two girls only good for cleaning bathrooms and/or giving hand job massages. I’m telling you he was power tripping. I’m telling you he’s an evil twisted f&ck.