Pretty Mess

by Erika Jayne

  On the way home, I pulled into the 76 gas station on the corner of Crescent Drive and Little Santa Monica Boulevard. It’s full service, and I hate to get out of the car. I was sitting in my Aston Martin while the attendant filled the tank. The phone rang.

  “Hi, Erika, this is Stephanie Boyriven at Evolution,” said the sweet voice on the other end. “I’ve got some good news. We want to offer you the full contract.”

  “Oh, that’s great. Wow,” I said. “Thank you so much.” At the time, I had no idea what the “full contract” was. That I would be “holding a diamond,” as they say, as a full-fledged member of the cast.

  I called Mikey right away. “Oh my God, what’s happening?” he blurted out.

  “They offered me the full contract,” I said.

  He didn’t say anything to me. Instead, he told Laia, who was still with him. They just started screaming into the phone. I hoped that he wasn’t driving, because he and Laia sounded like they were jumping up and down.

  Mikey and Laia are the two people in my life who were the most excited for me when I got the job. Tom and my son both have plenty of their own stuff going on. They were happy for me, because it was a great opportunity, but it’s not like either of them were obsessed with Bravo. When I called Renee to tell her about it, she said, “Oh, that’s cool. I’ve never watched the show before, but I guess I will now.” You guess? Thanks for setting your DVR for your only child, Renee!

  It only took about two weeks from when that manager told me to pivot for me to sign a contract to be on The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills. Here’s how it happened. A couple of days after Stephanie called, I was on location filming my first scene. I showed up that day, and there was a contract there for me to sign. I called Tom. “Babe, there’s a contract here,” I told him.

  “Great. Sign it and turn it in,” he said.

  “Do you want to read it?”

  “No. It doesn’t matter. They’re doing more for you than you’re doing for them at this point. Just sign the paper and hand it back.”

  I did, and the producers on set were a little confused. They said no one had ever done that before. A few days later, they made me sign the contract again. They wanted to be absolutely positive that I had checked it out before giving it back to them. I didn’t read it the second time, either. In fact, to this day I don’t think I’ve ever read it. I might have signed my soul away and had no clue at all. Oh well, who needs a soul anyway?

  My first day of filming was with Yolanda and Kyle Richards, one of the original stars of the show. We were going for a walk in the park. I will always have a soft spot in my heart for Kyle, because she was so kind to me on that first day. She has been on the show forever. She could have been a real bitch if she wanted to, but she was very nice and welcomed me. I’m very thankful.

  Before filming started, Yolanda gave me some really good advice for my new life as a Real Housewife. “Be yourself,” she told me. “Be authentic. Don’t ever let anyone push you into something that you don’t feel comfortable doing or saying.”

  She also told me to watch my words. “Be clear, focus, and remember what was said around you and what you say, because you will be held accountable for that later,” she said.

  That first season, I was a little blind going in. I didn’t watch the show, and I really didn’t know anybody except Yolanda. I think that was a blessing and maybe the key to my success. I was able to sit back, observe, get to know people, and see how they operate.

  That’s something I learned from being a performer for so many years. I knew I just had to wait, and my moment would come. When you come in and try to push, you get into trouble.

  Someone asked me recently, “What advice would you give to a first-time Housewife?”

  I said, “Shut your fucking mouth and listen.” There’s so much backstory, there are so many subtleties. There’s the show and then there’s your relationship with each woman beyond the show.

  When I first started filming, I watched, listened, and learned. Then I just took it all in for what it was, which is this incredibly complex experience.

  People who haven’t been on the show don’t really understand all of the time that the cast spends together. It’s not just the footage that makes it to the final program, it’s all the other moments that go unaired. On top of the footage on the cutting room floor, there’s the cast photos, our travel time during trips, and chilling in the car with each other on our way to events. And we still see each other around town and at parties during the “off-season,” or we text and email with each other to keep in touch because we are—believe it or not—actually friends.

  The other advice I would give is that person had better be ready to be embarrassed. When you sign your name on that paper, you’d better be prepared to look like a fool, to be made an idiot, and not to be shown in your best light. It’s an inevitability. You can’t cry when that happens. You have to learn to take it or else get out of the game.

  Everyone is going to have those moments like I had in Hong Kong, when I screamed at Eileen Davidson. There comes a point in every Housewife’s life when the frustration takes over. Each personality expresses itself in a different way: some yell, some cry, some get mad, some get quiet. It’s best not to close up, because for the sake of the show, every woman needs to open up and express herself.

  I express my frustration through tears. I don’t ever want to lose control and annihilate someone. Those tears in Hong Kong were me trying to find the balance between saying how I really felt and expressing my anger. I felt I wasn’t being heard, and that what I was trying to say had morphed into something else. That’s why I exploded on Eileen when she said something so innocent.

  Staying levelheaded and calm is my MO, but I can be very sensitive. I try to take things as lightly as possible, but sometimes you’ve just had enough. Each season it’s harder to brush things off. You get to know these women, so when it gets turned around, it can become a mindfuck if you allow it. What they see as fair game because it’s “just a show” can feel like a real betrayal.

  I think that each Housewife is very unique in the way she reacts to the pressure of the show. Some are going to be themselves and take their own advice and be authentic. Others are going to listen to the supposed leader of the pack or those who have been there the longest.

  Those you think are leaders actually might be followers. You want them to take a stand against what we all know is less than good behavior, but sometimes they’re committing crimes of opportunity. When someone needs to be defended or told to stop, some women think, But does this benefit me in some way? It’s very calculated self-preservation, rather than just doing the right thing.

  It’s a very Machiavellian way of looking at things. Some in the cast are always tending their position in the hierarchy. Some of the women are one way when you’re having an unguarded personal moment, and very different when the camera comes on. For someone like me, that is difficult. I don’t want to embrace that person. I feel like I could never trust her.

  There are some fun times and close bonding moments. Then, in the heat of an argument, when you think someone will advocate for you, they don’t. I don’t expect anything from anyone at all. When people stick up for me, I’m shocked. It doesn’t feel like they necessarily would all the time.

  Some people will keep your secrets and look out for you. Some wouldn’t piss on you if you were on fire. And I’m not just talking about my cast. That’s a recurring theme among the Housewives of every city. Yes, the players are different, but every cast goes through the same shit.

  However, at the end of the day, if it doesn’t come out of your mouth, you don’t have to answer for it. If it does, you do. I think every Real Housewife needs to take responsibility for her actions and how she treats others, no matter what happened or how she feels she was provoked.

  Filming can be lots of fun, though. There are moments when we look at each other like, “Are you fucking kidding me?” There are moments when we die laugh
ing at each other, because we appear so stupid. Sometimes we look bewildered and confused by whatever foolish behavior is happening in front of us. That’s the best. When you look at the other girl and you laugh, thinking, You’re going to cringe at that in about six months.

  Those are the times when you want to say to someone on the cast, “No, no, no, no. It doesn’t have to be like that. You don’t have to do that. You don’t have to say that. Calm down.” Those are also the worst times: fighting with people you care about, seeing people hurt, going through things that you know suck. And then know that they’re going to have to relive it on television.

  That first season, Lisa Rinna told me, “It’s one thing to film the show. It’s another thing to watch the show.”

  Now all of a sudden, I’m going to watch myself on playback. I’m going to think, Wait a minute. Hold on. That’s not what I meant. Sometimes the shit that made perfect sense in your brain at the time does not translate on television. You knew you were right in that scene, but then you just come off all wrong. You know people are going to have a reaction to that.

  I’m a huge fan of professional wrestling. I love to joke that wrestling is exactly like Real Housewives. They’re both soap operas with treachery, betrayal, love, romance, hatred, flamboyant costumes, and of course lots of fights. Both in wrestling and on Real Housewives there are people that the audience roots for and people that the audience loves to hate. Both are wildly entertaining, and in both cases, the injuries are real.

  Even though it’s entertainment, it hurts because it’s our lives. I think most of the audience thinks that they know us 100 percent. Because we’re on television, they feel like they understand us completely. But they’ve only seen a small part of our lives. They can’t imagine that we could be any way other than the way we’re presented on TV.

  That said, we have absolutely great fans. It’s amazing to me how many people are fans of the show—many of whom you would never think would be watching. Because she’d seen me on Real Housewives, Christina Aguilera asked me to sing at her birthday party. That’s insane. It really speaks to the reach of the show.

  In February, I was in New York, seated at a restaurant doing an interview. The waiter brought a note and told me it was from a couple in the corner. It read, “Hi Erika. I didn’t want to bother you, but I want you to know that all the New York academics are in love with you.”

  I looked around and saw these two brainiacs. They looked like they could be professors at Columbia. They waved politely, and I waved back. I was so flattered that after my interview, I went by to introduce myself—and of course take selfies.

  I’m fortunate that from the start of my experience with Real Housewives, I’ve gotten a very warm reaction from the fans (well, at least most of them). I think that if people give me a chance and get past the blond hair, big boobs, stage makeup, and whatever insane look I’m wearing that day, they see a very relatable, normal woman. I come from a middle-class family in Atlanta, and only have a high school education. I have an over-the-top quality to my personality, but at my core, I am a very regular person. Albeit one with two airplanes, which I think people also enjoy.

  As much of a hassle as it can be to make the show and let my life be so public, I’m getting something out of it, too. When we’re in the middle of a season and I’m swirling in a sea of drama, the thing that gets me out of bed and in front of the camera again is the endgame. As I’ve said a zillion times, with Housewives I was able to take Erika Jayne out of the clubs and put her in America’s living rooms. My project has exploded since then, with bigger bookings, business opportunities, and monumental exposure. Hell, you wouldn’t even be holding this book without Real Housewives.

  There are a lot of things to be gained by subjecting yourself to appearing on reality TV. There’s some exploitation in the trade-off, but it is mutual. Even though what we trade is personal—the stories of our lives—it’s ultimately a business relationship.

  And you know what? It’s the smartest pivot I ever made.

  14

  TOO MUCH WOMAN

  At Center Staging in Burbank, I was rehearsing a new number with my creative director, Mikey, and my tireless assistant, Laia (who is a professional dancer herself). We were in the middle of preparations for 2017’s Fort Lauderdale Pride performance when I got a call from my then-manager, Katie Mason Stern.

  “If they had an open spot on Dancing with the Stars, would you want to do it?” she asked.

  “Yes!” I said immediately, without even thinking about it.

  “Well, it’s all very last minute, and it’s going to happen very fast,” Katie said. “I’ll get back to you.”

  I hung up the phone and said to Mikey and Laia, “Guys, I have a chance to be on Dancing with the Stars!”

  They didn’t say anything and looked at the floor.

  “Guys, this is a great opportunity,” I told them. “It will be so much fun and I’ll get to dance and learn ballroom. I’ve never danced with a partner, but I’ve been doing this all my life. I can figure it out.”

  “I don’t know, E,” Mikey finally said. “I’m not sure it’s going to be what you think it is.”

  “Come on,” I said. “It’s national television. Think about how many people are going to get to meet Erika Jayne for the first time.”

  “Okay, fine,” Mikey said. “I’ll support you no matter what. But I’m not sure you’ll like it.”

  I wasn’t going to turn it down. I just wasn’t. I didn’t think that an opportunity like that would come again. I’m one of these people who always says yes because I believe that everything leads to something great. But Mikey was right. Dancing with the Stars turned me into someone even my closest friends wouldn’t recognize. Hell, I didn’t even recognize myself.

  I got the call from Katie at about three in the afternoon, and by six I was cast on the show. She wasn’t kidding, they were not messing around. The next morning, the news came out that I was a part of the show’s twenty-fourth season.

  While filming the reunion special for The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills, I got a chance to talk to my fellow Real Housewives Lisa Rinna and Lisa Vanderpump, who had both already participated on the show.

  Lisa Rinna was very excited for me. “It was the best time of my life,” she said. “And I was in the best shape of my life. You’re going to have so much fun and you’re going to do great.”

  Lisa Vanderpump had nothing but good things to say about the show as well. “It’s the hardest thing I ever did in my life,” she admitted. Now, everyone sees Lisa Vanderpump as the grande dame of Beverly Hills. Let me tell you something: she is not some frail motherfucker. If she said it was the hardest thing she ever did, I knew I was in for some serious labor.

  Hard work never bothered me, though, especially when it is in preparation for a performance. My partner on Dancing, Gleb Savchenko, is just like me. He’s competitive, works hard, and puts everything out there for the audience. He also has one of the most beautiful faces I’ve ever seen in my life. You can tell from TV that he’s attractive, but when you get up in there, it is something totally amazing. He looks like a movie star from Hollywood’s golden age, like MGM royalty.

  I have always been an admirer of the male form. Even so, I used to laugh when people would say, “Oh, Gleb is so sexy. Don’t you get turned on being so close to him?” Hell no! We are there to be professional and to win. Neither he nor I are in any other frame of mind.

  The first time we met, we were just getting a sense of each other. Within five minutes of him kicking my ass in that rehearsal studio, I had forgotten all about those matinee idol good looks. He was curious about what I knew about dance and ballroom and how well I could move. We were putting together a plan not just for the first dance, but for how we could work together for the season.

  Soon it was time to start choreographing our first number. We were going to do a salsa to my song “XXPEN$IVE,” which was released not too long before the show. Being able to dance to one’s
own song on a hit show was a really cool experience. It was going to be a great introduction to the world.

  Gleb told me about an idea he had while at home watching his daughter Olivia play in their living room. She had this one toy that she absolutely loved and couldn’t get enough of: a plush mechanical unicorn that walked. Aha! he thought. Erika’s like a unicorn. I want to open the number with her seated on a unicorn.

  Of course, I loved that idea. Just like Erika Jayne, a unicorn is a beautiful fantasy—and you’re never going to see anything else like it. The whole routine was very much on-brand for me. I had a red costume dripping in glitz and diamonds and above-the-knee boots. Gleb wore a complementary red outfit, with the customary unbuttoned shirt. Compared to what my male backup dancers at Fort Lauderdale Pride would be wearing, it was absolutely chaste.

  I need to give major props to the wardrobe department on Dancing with the Stars. They are absolutely amazing. Howard Sussman and his assistants, Daniella and Effat, were a joy to work with. They turn out dozens of killer looks each week with a moment’s notice. It’s mind-boggling how good and detailed every garment they deliver really is. They even went out of their way getting special lace for some of my outfits. If they didn’t already have an amazing gig, I would hire them to make all of Erika Jayne’s costumes.

  I have a lot of respect for the hair and makeup team, too, even though Clyde and Preston, who do my hair and makeup, set my look for each performance. On show day we would all have to sit crammed in one half of a trailer all day, so no one would know what we were getting up to. This space was probably no bigger than six by ten feet, so it was tight. We shared a wall with Charo. We could hear her sitting alone in the other half of the trailer playing the guitar and rambling on in Spanish. (Luckily Laia is from the same part of Spain Charo’s from, so she could translate.)