RACHEL ZOE PHOTOCAP: Paris, Je LITERALLY T'Aime

After much drama last week, Rachel Zoe and Brad headed off to Paris last night on The Rachel Zoe Project for Fashion Week. This meant that poor Taylor had to stay home and clean up Brad’s professional messes while literally everyone else on the show — even that gangly makeup dude who apparently likes to pose for French Vogue while sampling escargot — got to make the trip across the pond. Of course, we all suspect that Tay-Tay enjoys playing the martyr, and when she tried to complain to her parents (who I loved), they pretty much shot her down. That didn’t make it any less awful, however, when Brad later called and told Taylor that there was an empty seat at the Chanel show next to him. I’m sure she loved that.
Speaking of Chanel, Rachel and Brad got to live out their dreams by getting an exclusive tour of Coco Chanel’s apartment. Don’t get me wrong — it was a cool opportunity — but they acted as if they’d been given a private audience with GOD. Afterwards, the two shared tears in a nearby bistro and confessed to bouts of shakiness and ebullience in the wake of being so close to Coco.
Yes, it was all silly, and that’s pretty much the way the whole episode was — as usual. Lots of gawking at fashion, followed by over-dramatic proclamations, and silly banter. So the answer is yes — it was hilarious.
Photocap after the jump.

Roger: “Honey, how did this bag get in my stuff?”
“Ohmygod, I don’t know.”
“You packed it, didn’t you?”
“LITERALLY, I’ve never seen that bag before. In. My. Life.”
“It’s okay, you can admit it.”
“LITERALLY, I think a ghost put it in there. Did you hire a ghost butler? Ohmygod. We have a ghost butler. My heart just stopped beating. Literally. I just died. I’m dead.”
“You’re not dead.”
“I see the light. Literally, it’s a bright light. With a little flower near it. No one told me there’d be a flower.”
“You’re looking at the bedside lamp.”
“Oh. LITERALLY, I thought the lamp was the afterlife.”

“Your collection was on. another. level.”
“Merci beaucoup, Madame.”
“And you know what else? I just rented the complete first season of Homeboys in Outer Space. Amazing. I die. I die.”

“Ohmygod, Brad. LITERALLY, there are so many posts along the sidewalk.”
“SO many.”
“If I tripped, there’s a good chance I would fall and hit my head on a post. LITERALLY, I would die. My neck… would snap. Right off. Dead.”

“Okay, Brad, I am literally going to hang up on you. Literally. I am so over this phone call. I hate telecommunications. Literally, I wish we still had pigeons. Literally.”

Rachel: “LITERALLY, Brad looks like Pee-wee Herman.”
“I do not!”
“Ohmygod, you’re literally masturbating right now in public. You are so Pee-wee.”
“Ohmygod. Mecca lecca hi, mecca hiney ho.”
“What… what is that?”
“It’s from Pee-wee’s Playhouse!”
“What is that? Is that a boutique? Do they sell vintage Dior?”
“No, it was Pee-wee Herman’s TV show. Remember? Mecca lecca hi, mecca hiney ho?”
“Roger, Brad’s speaking in tongues. He’s having a stroke. LITERALLY, I think he might die. Right here. In Paris. Ohmygod.”

“Ohmygod, Marc. Your collection. Was. Beyond.”
“Thank you.”
“LITERALLY… literally… LITERALLY… every. single. piece. that. came. down. the. run. way. was. bee. yond.”
“Beyond what?”
“I don’t know.”
“The Thunderdome?”
“The what?”
“It was a joke.”
“Ohmygod. Is there a dome somewhere filled with thunder?”
“No, it’s–“
“LITERALLY, that freaks me out. Like how do you get thunder into a dome? That… is… bah…nananas.”

“Ohmygod. I’m walking. Where am I going? I can’t stop. Is the Berlin Wall nearby? No, this is Paris. Wait, where is the Paris Wall? This is a disaster. No, it’s a Parisaster.”

“LITERALLY, no one is sitting next to me. Why is there an empty chair? This is a chairsaster. Did somebody die? Am I dead? Is this a ghost fashion show? Where is Patrick Swayze? Is this his fashion show? Did he learn fashion in heaven? I have to tell Demi. Ohmigod, I can’t breathe. I’m going to die. No, I’m already dead. But I can’t breathe. Ohmygod, I need to go to the ghost hospital. Where is the ghost ambulance? Or am I supposed to just float there?”

“Brad, I’m like a bunny.”
“Rachel, those are so cute on you!”
“LITERALLY, these are the cutest bunny ears I’ve ever worn.”
“You could LITERALLY walk into a meadow, and people would think you’re a bunny.”
“Ohmygod. I need a carrot.”
“What are your thoughts on celery?”
“Unclear.”
“How about cauliflower?”
“Ohmygod. LITERALLY, you are ruining my bunny appetite.”
“Ew! I hope you get eaten by a snake.”
“You have a Braditude.”
“I do not!”
“Maybe you should spend less time at the Arc de Braditude-omphe.”
“What?”
“It’s like you traveled across La Seine on the Bradteau-Mouche and stepped off with a Braditude.”
“You’re being mean.”
“I should take a picture of you, frame it, and give it to the Louvre. They’d call it Le Braditude.”
“Ew!”
“UGH, this is a bunnysaster.”

“Ohmygod. What are we doing? Who are we looking at? What is happening? This is a Lagerfeldsaster!”

“Ohmygod. You’re a pirate. Literally, you plunder the seas.”
“Ah yes. You like the costume?”
“Ohmygod. Where is Johnny Depp?”
“Yes, yes, very good. Like in the movies.”
“Movies? No, that’s real. He’s a ghost pirate.”
“No, it’s a movie.”
“Ohmygod. I thought Pirates of the Caribbean was a documentary.”
“No… it’s a big fake movie.”
“This is LITERALLY blowing my mind.”
“It’s based off a Disney ride.”
“Ride?”
“You know, Pirates of the Caribbean at Disneyland.”
“No, that’s the real Caribbean. And those are real pirates.”
“No, they are robots.”
“Are you a robot? Ohmygod. John Galliano is a robot.”
“No, I am a human.”
Brad: “OHMYGOD I CAN’T TAKE THIS ANYMORE. I JUST WANT TO CRY!!!!”
“This is a Bradsaster.”

Rachel: “Galliano is ON… another level.”
Brad: “That was LITERALLY the most INSANE thing I have EVER seen. In. My. Life.”
“Taylor would have loved this.”
“Yeah, you should get her a gift.”
“Well, I’m gonna bring her back some mints from the hotel. She’ll like that, right?”

“LITERALLY, this is the softest bed I’ve ever felt. I think it’s made of air. Is this an air bed?”
“Nope, just a regular bed.”
“Ohmygod, I feel like I’m lying on a cloud. It’s like someone took a cloud, wrapped some sheets around it, and put it in this room. And now I’m lying on it.”
“I guess you could say that.”
“I wonder if this is a thunder cloud. Do you know there’s LITERALLY a dome somewhere that’s filled with thunder?”
“I think that’s a movie.”
“I don’t think this is a thunder cloud though. It’s very quiet.”
“Yes.”
“How do we make sure this cloud doesn’t float away?”
“It won’t. It’s a bed.”
“Did it turn into a bed? Do clouds do that? Ohmygod. We just witnessed a scientific phenomenon. Who do we call?”
“No one.”
“Get me the Yale Department of Cloud & Bed Studies. We have to report this.”
“That doesn’t exist.”
“LITERALLY, I’m calling up the Dean and establishing that department.”
“You can’t just do that.”
“Ohmygod, I’m going to be a professor. I need a chalkboard. Where can I find chalk? Get me the Bing.”

“Ohmygod. Don’t let go. My vertigo is back. LITERALLY, I am about to fall over. My inner-ear is on. Another. Level.”

“LITERALLY, there’s a penis on my dress. Ohmygod. It’s a phallusaster.”