Page 9 of Bad Influence
Her glass charged, Mandy led me up the spiral staircase into the heart of the suite, the master bedroom and dressing room. On the way up, she delivered my instructions.
‘Formal interviews don’t reveal raw talent,’ she said, ‘so I thought we would do a dry run – I’ll give you the scenarios, and you choose what I should wear. Like a game. Only not.’
I was glad she walked ahead, because she couldn’t see the panic on my face.
‘Of course,’ I replied calmly. Concentrating on not tripping up the stairs, I noticed the famous floral tattoo decorating her ankle come into view.
There was so much about Mandy that was familiar, even though we had only just met. I wondered if I would get a glance of her bunion scars.
Extensive online research last night reminded me that Mandy had been famous since she jumped to fame at age fifteen, catching the judges’ attention as ‘one to watch’ on the final season ofStar Searchin 1995, where she won over the audience as much for her charisma as her singing talent. She was the daughter of two immigrants – a mother from Mexico and father from Jamaica. Mandy’s parents and their families travelled to the United States in pursuit of a better life, well before they met working in the same life insurance sales office in Gainesville, Florida.
When Mandy was young, the family had moved to California for their only child to attend school, and when she got a place at the University of California, Santa Cruz to major in American studies, Mandy decided to put her singing aspirations to one side, to become the first person in her entire family’s history to entertain the idea of a university degree. She was almost ready to graduate in 2002 whenAmerican Idolcame calling. Encouraged by friends to give it a go, Mandy queued for seven hours to attend the first audition. In a story which is now Hollywood folklore, one of her high heels became lodged in a drain as she neared the front of the queue, so she did her first audition in one shoe. This enabled her to create an impression with the judges, and Mandy ended up making it through round after round, becoming a runner-up on the first series.
‘Mandy was born with ambition,’ her father had regaled to E! News in a biography of his superstar daughter’s life.
Drama camps, singing lessons, a dialect coach, and her early experience onStar Searchhad grown her confidence as a teenager, and although she missed out on the top spot onAmerican Idol, it served her well as more reality shows and brand endorsements quickly followed, and Mandy became a household name.
Over the last twenty-three years, with various talent management agencies, she underwent a number of reinventions as popular culture moved with the times –there was a stint as a TV actress, a small movie role in a medium-budget comedy where she played Ben Affleck’s former girlfriend, and cameos in a number of music videos. But it was on social media and her eponymous YouTube channel that Mandy found a lucrative, natural home and captured the hearts of a legion of loyal American fans with her roller-coaster love life, pneumatic style and curvaceous looks. After a series of broken hearts, when she finally met her ‘Prince’, Mandy and Jose live-streamed their wedding, and the moment Jose lifted the veil to kiss his new bride became ‘the most defining image of 2020’, according toVarietymagazine. It was the fairy-tale ending her story had been waiting for, only that was five years ago now. Since then, only the bunion operation had come close to the stats she once achieved, and there were only so many times she could blame the algorithm for a dip in popularity when brands began to question her star power.
I imagined it was time for Mandy’s team to explore opportunities in different parts of the world, hence London had been identified by Julie-Ann as a good place to start.
‘Obviously I only have a capsule wardrobe here today,’ Mandy said, gesturing to the expansive walk-in closet which was half full. The dressing room in itself was as large as my whole bedroom and plenty big enough to hold any normal person’s wardrobe, for their entire life. It was so large it also housed a Pilates reformer machine – one of those beds that looks more like an instrument of torture, or a large sex toy.
Our worlds were so far apart, the amount of money ittook to stay in a suite like this was barely comprehensible to me. Yet I had to put this to one side – to make her see me as an equal, at least when it came to style – if this was going to work. I took a deep breath.You’ve got this, Amber Green.
I was beginning to feel quite hot, so I took off my biker jacket and set it down on the floor.
‘Here,’ said Jose, handing me a hanger. I had barely noticed him join us in the room.
I hung my jacket and slipped off my shoes, instantly feeling better in bare feet on the cream carpet.
‘There is plenty to work with here,’ I assured her, ‘you have great taste.’ The second part wasn’t quite true but, in this moment, I needed her to like me as well as respect my judgement.
My eyes darted from one thing to the next: a couple of patterned kaftans; three Hermès bags and a host of clutches; a row of formal dresses made from stretchy body-con fabrics, in vibrant colours that would make anyone stand out in a crowd; and a more sedate section of black, white, and neutral items. To the left were at least ten shelves containing a range of shoes. Mandy was definitely not a flats person, or even a walking one – none of her vertiginous heels looked capable of taking the wearer much farther than a few steps from car to venue to seat. But then again, Mandy was experienced at high-octane glamour.Maybe she can run a half marathon in them.
I turned to her and said brightly: ‘I can see you love fashion, Ms Sykes.’
‘Call me Mandy, please.’ She smiled. ‘You’ve got that right.’
Rule Number One of winning a celebrity’s favour: flattery. Though they might try to tell you differently, celebrities thrive on compliments – it’s their equivalent of chocolate. After all, fame dies without adoration.
Mandy had turned away and was rifling through a drawer of body-con undergarments.
‘Spanx, Skims, Intimissimi … I’ve collaborated with them all,’ she said, as she artfully opened her gown and wriggled into a pair of sculpting mid-waist nude briefs, and then she dropped the gown and put on a matching bralette, keeping her back to me the whole time.
‘I loved your campaign with Skims, you looked incredible,’ I gushed, grateful for all the Insta-stalking I did last night.
‘That was fun. Kim Kardashian issucha doll.’
She’s warming to me, I can feel it.
Jose was now sitting on a chaise longue in the bedroom, a vantage point close enough to observe and record my progress, but not to interfere with the rapport we were building.
‘Okay, chica, scenario one,’ Mandy announced, turning around to look me in the eye. ‘It’s the amfAR Gala dinner, Cannes. What do I wear, stylist?’
‘You have two minutes!’ Jose called from the bedroom, before pushing a button on his expensive timepiece.
Feeling the pressure, I felt glad I hadn’t accepted any champagne. My pulse rate began to soar, and my handsfelt clammy. I hadn’t yet eaten this morning – maybe I should have accepted a second coffee. It didn’t help that theCountdowntheme tune was giving me an ear worm.
