فصل 29

29

I actually really love when I get to prepare for a big, over-the-top event that is seriously glamorous. I view the work of fashion designers like I do any art, and I get a kick out of occasionally dressing up in a big way. But being exposed to the world of a Big Night Out doesn’t necessarily translate into real life. It’s like learning how to make a soufflé, then being asked to put dinner on the table for five teenage boys on a Monday night: “I know you just got home from basketball practice, but would you guys mind waiting forty-five minutes to an hour for an airy and eggy dessert that isn’t even filling?”

As a viewer of Project Runway, my favorite part has always been watching people create things, then following the decisions they made to see how they got to a finished product. In so many ways, that’s the work of an actor too, and something I totally relate to. The judging was the least fun part. As a friend, I don’t mind giving advice when I’m asked, but if you don’t take it, I’m not going to ask you to clean up your work space and go home. I felt embarrassed too. I can’t even stand giving feedback to the potato peeler I bought on Amazon—what made me think this would be any different?

For weeks after the show was over, I went on and on to all my friends about my runway show semi-blackout, how worried I still was about the nice girl and my “T-shirty” comment, and how in general my reaction to being a judge was much different from what I’d expected. I told them all about who got cut and why, what really went on behind the scenes, and what we had for dinner (everyone wants to know what models eat). One day I was telling my lawyer, Adam, my stories, and he stopped me midsentence. “Wait. It’s just me you’re telling all this to, right? I mean, you haven’t been telling other people any of these stories, have you?” When I told him that yes, in fact, I had, because I was really, really traumatized by judging, he stopped me again. “Lauren,” he said, with genuine concern in his voice, “you aren’t allowed to talk about any of that. You signed a confidentiality agreement.”

“Ugh, well, right,” I tried to joke, “but I didn’t actually read it that carefully—what do you think I have a lawyer for?”

He responded by telling me that everything I’d been saying was in total breach of my contract. Great. I was such a bad judge that now I might have to sit in front of a real one? I pictured Tim Gunn, sad about having to testify against me: “Well, I thought it was a lovely way to start our season, but now…”

Over the years, I’ve gotten to do some pretty exciting things. Peter and I once made an appearance at the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade, where we got escorted through the crowds and massive balloons to have an up-close experience I’ll never forget. I was flown to Amsterdam for a week to promote Gilmore Girls. I hosted the American Cinema Editors awards (the Eddies), where I got to fulfill my lifelong dream of delivering this piece of genius comedy: “Hey, who cut one?” I once rode the Disney jet when I was doing a series for ABC. I got to bring my friend Jen, and there was a marching band waiting for us on the tarmac when we arrived—not the usual way you expect to be greeted at work!

I’ve also been asked to do a lot of really unexpected things. One time I was invited to speak at a toilet paper convention. Another, to go on a morning show and discuss calcium supplements. Over the course of my career, I’ve gotten requests as odd and varied as promoting a line of cat food (I don’t have a cat), being on the cover of a golf magazine (I don’t play golf), and appearing on Sesame Street (I did this one! I know he’s really famous, but guys, Grover is so down to earth in real life). I’ve learned that it’s always nice to be invited to a party; there’s just no way to know ahead of time what the party will be like.

In fashion, one day you’re in, and the next day you’re out. I was literally in for just the one day, but I realized I’m happier being out, or better yet, at home on my couch wearing sweatpants, watching as a fan.

Oh, and in case you were wondering, we ordered from a nice Japanese restaurant in Midtown, and Heidi had tofu in black bean sauce. Please remember how much you enjoyed that information, because I’m writing it to you from jail. This prison jumpsuit I’m wearing isn’t as flattering as some of the ones I have at home, but that’s okay.

I’ll just have to make it work.