I have never hate-watched something as hard as I hate-watch Gallery Girls. Like, what plane of existence are these people on? Qu’est que fucking ce
I haven’t ever seen such a living nightmare as this Chantal creature who I wholeheartedly believe was born from a brooklyn dumpster inseminated with Mary-Kate and Dov Charney’s genetic material, busting from the chest of some Hipster’s corpse like the Alien alien.
Oh you don’t like wine from Oregon? How about I bring you two glasses of wine and if you can tell me which one is from France I’ll give you a thousand dollars. Ugh.org/chantalchadwick #thereisnowayinhellthatsyourrealname
With that being said the editors and producers seem to be hate-producing this show as much as the audience is hate-watching it. They linger on and cut to moments of such ignorant self satisfaction and lack of self awareness it’s like they are building a case against these people.
The five minute segment of Claudia trying to light a cigar? Genius. Maggie saying her favorite current artist is Bansky like her art history degree is from Netflix Insta-watch? Amazing. Angela saying béchamel sauce instead of mornay sauce because she can’t even do pretension right? Enthralling.
I will say I have a soft spot for Liz Margulies, of the silver-eyeshadow-up-to-the-brow and the non-sequiter tattoo sleeve. Her self confidence and conviction that she has the right to exist is so inspiring no matter where it comes from.
Guyz I can’t quit Gallery Girls.
I hate Liz though.