Oprah calls and begs me to come to her show. I tell her, "Have my people call your people. You know I can never refuse you." Meanwhile, one of my personal assistants mouths the words, "Johnny Depp on line 2." I nod and quickly end my conversation with Oprah.
"Johnny, stop sending me messages. I'm Mrs. Krasinski now, you have to respect that." Before I can send this text message, ten delivery guys show up, asking one of my people to receive the 100 pale pink peonies from Mr. Depp. I just sigh in exasperation and ask assistant number 7 to take care of this problem.
Because it has been confirmed that I am appearing on The Oprah Winfrey Show, designers promptly send outfits from their latest collections, and I literally have my pick of the litter. I owe Donatella, but Marc Jacobs is celebrating his birthday soon. I decide that I'll decide some other time when I'm more up to the task.
Day of the Show
So I still can't decide on what, or more to the point, who to wear. I then ask assistant number 3 to get me some banana leaves, coconut husks, and lots of double-sided tape. I work on the dress for a bit, taping bits here and there. I have my hair done, and I'm all ready to leave the house.
I get to the studio and people usher me to the green room. Oprah drops by and her jaw drops in amazement as she proclaims my dress to be "truly avant-garde and tres chic." I give her air kisses and promise to entertain the audience to the best of my abilities. Oprah tells me, I don't have to do that because quite frankly, she opines, "You are the best thing since life populated this planet." I humbly accept her praise and wait for the show to start taping.
(end of part 1)
Image Credit: http://images.usatoday.com/life/_photos/2006/05/11/oprah-main.jpg