The Bitch in Black...Intro. to Botox Face

A couple of years ago, I landed this gig job working for the self proclaimed number one PR firm in the City called WLPR. I landed the coveted job of Assistant to Wanda Laufman. What appeared to be a high profile job of Assistant to the President, was really code for "I Own Your Ass 24/7". It was a 3 month stint that felt like an eternity in the land of this self absorbed woman who made Anna Wintour aka Meryl Streep's character in The Devil Wears Prada, look like a walk in the park next to this she devil.

Okay some fun facts about Wanda Laufman, who is a "self made" entrepreneur, who "didn't" marry a successful lawyer when she started her business from the "ground up" and made it on her "own". She's only in her mid forties (but looks much older), and desperately trying to hold onto her youth via way too much Botox, resulting in the bloated apple doll effect. For this reason, I choose to refer to her as Botox Face.

Botox Face takes a great deal of pride in her appearance, some would even say perhaps a tad vain. Her office consists of framed photos of herself. You see BF does a lot of shameless self promotion under the guise of "inspiring" and "empowering" women at speaking engagements, while being a domineering, exploitative diva in her insulated underworld she calls a company. In public and on TV, she spews insincerity from her pores and says thing like, "I believe in work/life integration". Translation, you are on my beckon call even if you just put in a 12 hour day, without lunch, possibly without dinner and commuted 2 hours to get to work and back, are dead on your feet, but you have a working phone, which she refuses to pay for because it's your personal phone that you only use for her calls, emails and texts and you have to pay for it anyway! So just because she rakes in $250K a year, why should she pay $40 for your phone and how dare you even ask!

Appearances are extremely important for BF, who lives on adrenalin, insecurity and a tall non-fat iced caramel macchiato. BF gets her hair styled every couple of days at a high end salon located two doors down. Her hairstyle of choice is rat's nest on top followed by stringy strands of overly bleached blonde hair at the bottom (because you know she started the Ombre look), complete with Carrie Bradshaw curls from 2003! No-one at the salon dared to tell BF that her hair was fried and that she needed to stop immediately!!! BF insisted that internal meetings with her selected minions employees be held at the salon, while she was getting her hair done, because if you weren't already high on life from being in the orbit of BF, well you may as well get high on the fumes of the chemicals seeping into her shrinking brain.

BF wears expensive designer clothes but only in black. A few magazines would photograph her collection of clothes in black, black and more black with headings like, "A Look at Wanda's Coveted Closet" or "Don't Be Jealous of My Closet".  The only colours allowed in her bleak world, belong on her feet, in her 6" stilettos, which she can barely walk in without looking like she's going to topple over on her face and let the air out!

BF's handbag of choice is a black Birkin bag, the ultimate status symbol, but she doesn't like to carry it herself. She would call me from her BlackBerry from the parking lot, located literally across the street, and order me to carry her Birkin bag, and at the time her brand new puppy LoKiEE*. I would run outside, cross the busy intersection (no traffic light) with cars whizzing by to get her Birkin and the pup, and proceed to walk a few steps behind her majesty as she entered the premises, while legions of gratefully employed 20 somethings lowered their gaze as she walked by them.

All hail to Queen Botox Face and heir to the throne Prince LoKiEE*!

Moody Girl Out.