Melissa Rivers - Red Carpet Ready: Secrets for Making the Most of Any Moment Youre in the Spotlight

INTRODUCTION
3 A.M. , Dead Body, No Questions Asked

LESSON 1

LESSON 2

LESSON 3

LESSON 4

LESSON 5

LESSON 6

LESSON 7

LESSON 8

LESSON 9

ARE YOU RED CARPET READY?
Take the Red Carpet Quiz

AFTERWORD
The Best Worst Thing That Ever Happened

My theory is that if you look confident you can pull off
anything, even if you have no clue what youre doing.

JESSICA ALBA

I t was Oscar night, 1996. Braveheart was the favorite for Best Picture. Sharon Stone set fashionistas around the globe buzzing when she emerged from her limo wearing a Valentino skirt, velvet jacket, and a Gap T-shirt that, according to urban legend, she had thrown on when she didnt like the look of her Vera Wang dress. Later on, host Whoopi Goldberg would quip, Elisabeth Shue played a hooker. Sharon Stone played a hooker. Mira Sorvino played a hooker. How many times did Charlie Sheen get to vote?

But I wasnt thinking about gowns, statuettes, or posh aprs-Oscar parties. I was trying to prevent my clammy palms from losing their grip on my microphone. When I wasnt doing that, I was harassing my poor sound guy about the irritating thump-thump in my earpiecewhich turned out to be the hammering of my heart. I was, to put it mildly, a nervous wreck. Why not? My mother and I were about to step onto the storied red carpet and directly into the sights of millionsno, lets be honest, billionsof TV viewers to create a new genre of live television for the E! Network: the real-time red carpet interview broadcast and fashion extravaganza. No one had ever done such an audacious thing. We would be accosting the likes of Tom Cruise and Susan Sarandon as they sashayed past throngs of adoring fans, smiling and waving and probably thinking, God, I hope I dont have something in my teeth!

An executive at E! came up with the idea for a live red carpet show a few years earlier, after realizing that the Oscars were like the parents of the bride at a society wedding: too uptight and serious for their own good. The thinking was that the fans would really embrace something off-the-cuff, fresh, and, most of all, funny. Mom did one show and then somebody at E! said, Hey, what if you and Melissa worked together? I had just finished a stint at CBS News and MTV, so they knew I could handle myself in front of and behind the camera, and everyone figured that our natural mother-daughter tension might create some memorable chemistry. I loved the idea. Who better to celebrate and add some sizzle to the Academy Awards scene than Joan Rivers and her intrepid daughter, by walking up to the likes of Juliette Binoche and asking, Juliette, honey, my God, was that dress inspired by the title of one of your films, Damage? It was a cant-miss proposition. Mom and I were ready to stroll down that carpet, poured into our designer frocks and sparkling with borrowed jewelry, and make television history.

The trouble was that we were the only ones who thought the whole crazy scheme would work. Hardly anyone else believed we could pull it offnot our agents, colleagues, managers, or friends. Daring, original thinking is scary, especially in Hollywood, where people are more interested in sequels than originality. I began to hear Melissa, I dont think thats such a good idea in my sleep. In fact, thats the defining phrase of my career. Every time I encounter it, its like waving a red flag in front of a bull. I become obsessed with bringing my idea to fruition; my nostrils have even been known to flare. So when I get involved in a venture that gets others shaking their heads, I know Im on to something good. Like the song says, they all laughed at Christopher Columbus.

But as the weeks passed and the first Oscar telecast drew closer, Mom and I began to feel less like pioneers and more like sitting ducks. We started to think that maybe it would be best if E! listened to the naysayers and pulled the plug on our little misadventure. Remember, these were the days when celebrities could still protect part of their lives from public view, the Internet was still mostly about chat rooms, and Britney Spears was a cute teenager with one hit record and no entourage of paparazzi. Back then, celebrities still enjoyed a smidgen of privacy and expected the press to respect their personal space. What would happen when Mom and I yanked them off the red carpet, stuck a microphone in their faces, asked terribly personal questions, and then criticized what they were wearing? My God, wed get slapped. Wed be led away by security. Worst of all, wed be ignored.

Of course, none of those things happened. Mom and I were under more pressure than the clasps on some of the gravity-defying dresses we saw that evening. After all, we were either going to make Oscar history or make our careers history. But in spite of all our trepidation, the night went great. It was terrifying and exhilarating and frantic and marvelous, all at the same time.

There were some minor disasters, of course. The heel fell off my Jimmy Choo strappy sandals. My gorgeous Vera Wang dress practically disintegrated as I was about to go on camera. Only the quick intervention of my tech crew (with gaffers tape, electrical clips, and safety pins) kept me from making my red carpet debut showing as much skin as Kristin Scott Thomas in her bathtub scene with Ralph Fiennes in The English Patient. If you were there I looked like a fourth-grade craft project gone terribly wrong, but on camera I still looked great.

But as awkward as the scene sometimes was, as much as we were making it all up as we went along, we really pulled it off. The stars walking up the red carpet were gracious and endearingly surprised at the two nervy women pulling them aside to ask how they were feeling or who designed their outfits. Our first red carpet interview was with John Travolta, who, as always, was simply wonderful. I repeated the words Back to you, Mom! about a thousand times. Now and again, when the cameras were elsewhere, our eyes would meet and wed exchange an amazed look that said, Were really doing this! At the end of the evening, while the crews rolled cable and took down lights, we sat down, exhausted and still pumped with adrenaline, dying to get into some flat shoes. We had no idea at the time if viewers had loved us or hated us, but I didnt really care. Id never had so much fun. Maybe theyd let us do this for one more year.

Fast-forward twelve years and our semi-improvised mad dash down the red carpet became Joan & Melissa: Live at the Academy Awards. It was an annual ratings smash. Four times a year, from that first Academy Awards to the 2007 Emmys, we brought enough scaffolds, klieg lights, cameras, and helicopters to the Oscars, Golden Globes, Emmys, and Grammys to invade a small Central American country. I called it Operation Entertainment Storm. What started off being about stars and the honor of ones peers became a fashion show: whos wearing what, whos going to wish she hadnt worn that in the morning, the behind-the-scenes deals to convince one nominee to wear Dior instead of Randolph Duke, rumored payola to get the hot actress of the moment to drop her Harry Winston bling for Chopard, and so on.