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Living with Kimberly Stewart

Kimberly Stewart and friend
  • Posted at 10:21am
  • 19 October 2007
  • by RhodriMarsden-RT
  • 2 comments

I've had some odd flatmates in my time. When I was 23 I remember having one of the most almighty rows I've ever had with anyone, purely because I'd eaten a Dairylea triangle that wasn't mine. (And it wasn't even her last Dairylea triangle.) There was the man who said to me once, "By the way, if you hear strange noises coming from my room, it's because I've got hold of a load of nitrous oxide and I'm planning on staying in and laughing".

Then there was the bloke who threw a party without telling me, and I arrived home to find members of the circus troupe Archaos wandering in and out of my bedroom. Which all goes some way to explaining my confusion at Kimberly Stewart's self-imposed dilemma.

The occasional model and renowned party girl, daughter of Rod Stewart, is moving to London, and despite the fact that she's the owner of a home in the Hollywood Hills and awash with cash, she's decided to share her new luxury pad with two British flatmates and use a 12-week reality TV show to find them.

Kimberly is sexy, sassy, single and loves the high life (I'm quoting from the voiceover, here, it's not my personal opinion), yet she's sentenced herself to spend the next few months arguing about bog roll, kitchen cupboard space and why it's necessary for people to have to repeatedly run up and down the stairs at 4:00am. Weird.

After half an hour of the first show on Tuesday night, Kimberly hadn't even left California. Hundreds of people shallow enough to want to share a house with an unnamed celebrity turned up for auditions, and the out-and-out lunatics (including a woman who spent the interview licking her own shoes) were immediately ejected by Kimberly's manager.

Under close questioning, one chap said, "To be honest, I don't have that many friends." This was presumably broadcast to make him look like a loser, but I was thinking "Yeah, pick him, perfect – he'll be quiet, no parties, no noise, fantastic". Obviously he failed to make it.

Kimberly was then sent photos of likely contenders, and she immediately consulted her "intuitive adviser" (no, seriously – this could only happen in LA) to advise her which people to accept and which to reject. I don't know about you, but I'd be keener on finding out whether they wash their underwear in the sink than whether their slightly crooked nose or unusual aura portends something ominous.

The ones who did make the final 12 were a motley crew. An unemployed stand-up comedian from Wigan. A woman who collects lard wrappers. A gay guy who was looking forward to "dressing up" with Kimberly, and a doctor whose main motivation for getting through was because Kimberly is "gorgeous" – a disaster waiting to happen, as anyone who has had a crush on a flatmate will testify.

It's entirely possible that the series will explode into scenes of nightmarish self-indulgence and unpalatable arrogance, but there were moments when you thought that Ms Stewart might not be the spoilt brat she's made out to be, and actually might be a sensitive, slightly lonely character. She was asked what she really wanted in a flatmate. "Just...." she pondered thoughtfully, "just someone who's... who's there." I guess for some people, living with a woman who collects lard wrappers is better than living with no-one at all.

Living with Kimberly Stewart continues on Living TV (Sky 112, Virgin 110) at 10:00pm on Wednesday evenings.

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  • Posted on 19 October 2007
  • at 12:16pm
  • by robsoft

"By the way, if you hear strange noises coming from my room, it's because I've got hold of a load of nitrous oxide and I'm planning on staying in and laughing"

My god man... don't leave us dangling, tell us more about this! Could this be some fantastic underground recreational activity of which I have been hitherto completely oblivious?

  • Posted on 19 October 2007
  • at 12:03pm
  • by AlfredArmstrong

a woman who spent the interview licking her own shoes

Rhodri, this surely requires further elucidation. For a start, were they still on her feet at the time? Or perhaps she carried a pair with her just for licking purposes? I must know!

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