1. Ashley Dupree for one. In today’s NY Post she goes on about her new found yoga body and that it has brought her salvation. First of all, just getting into a few positions in spandex similar to the ones you did nude for $$$ does not salvation bring. Oh, and she also copped a new yoga friend: Russell Simmons. “Russel’s become a mentor, and has helped me work through my issues. I feel liberated and honored that people like him support me. I’m starting to feel respected for who I am.” Oh really? Does getting a publicist hasten the process of redemption and grace? In that case, calling all PR bitches. There’s a new way to get clients. Promise them healing as opposed to ink.
2. Russel Simmons. I mean…what?!? Shame on you. I am the first to forgive others. But “mentor” a hooker? Surely you don’t have that much time on your hands. How about spending that extra bit of time with your kids. Or tending to the many fabulous charities you support. What has this girl done to warrant your mentor-ship? Oh right, she got a publicist. I gotta get me one of those. Anyone who wants to glom onto the Ashley Dupree PR machine needs to do some soul searching of their own.
3. Yigal Azruel. What a crock of shit this guy is selling. The publicity around the fact that Yigal was so horrified that Ashley attended his fashion show at the behest of Kelly Cutrone (who I love and think she is brill) that he fired her on the spot surely is a load of hooey. I mean…what?!? Was he was soooo mortified, but not mortified enough to stop and take this photo? Yoo hoo. Earth to Yigal. This provides that you too jumped on the Ashley Durpee PR scam to shamlessly plug your shmatehs.
[…] must have been seething on Rikers Island when she read that Ashley Dupre was making the rounds at New York Fashion Week, and then became the Dear Abby of Love for the New […]