When Worlds Collide: Toby Young’s First-Meeting Faux “Pads”

So, possums, want to know what happened the first time the 28th Most Beautiful Lady in the World met the man whose shtick is How to Lose Friends and Alienate People?

From the October 3, 2008, edition of The Scotsman:

“I recently boarded a flight from New York to London with my family and noticed that Salman Rushdie was on the same plane…I thought to myself that the last person you’d want on a flight from JFK to Heathrow when your wife and four children are on board is one of the biggest terrorist targets in the world. The next day I happened to be introduced to Padma Lakshmi [Rushdie’s estranged wife] at a party. And I thought it would be funny to tell her the story.” How did she respond? “She just sort of smiled and nodded.” Does he get that a lot? “Um, yes.”

Ah, possums, isn’t that eloquent response typical of our dear Pads?

28th Most Beautiful Lady in the World Now a Fallen Woman

No, possums, not in that way. We mean that she's fallen in the rankings.

Apparently, there's something called a "lad mag." And it seems one of these magazines, which, rather than offering lads, cater to them, is called Maxim (though the only Maxims we're familiar with were penned by La Rochefoucauld). And Maxim has, it appears, just come out with its 2007 "Hot 100 List." And Padma Lakshmi, who was once named the 28th Most Beautiful Lady in the World, is, oh horror of horrors, no. 87.

Well, as La Rochefoucald said, "Il y a peu de femmes dont le mérite dure plus que la beauté." Or, there are few women whose merit lasts longer than their beauty.

So Sayeth Lady Rushdie

Possums, to celebrate our hostess’s ascension from mere Padma Lakshmi, 28th Most Beautiful Lady in the World, to Padma, Lady Rushdie, we are inaugurating an occasional feature, “So Sayeth Lady Rushdie,” to share with you a few of the memorable pearls of wisdom fallen from Her Ladyship’s rather fetching mouth (and which we found on Her Ladyship’s website).

Without further ado, dixit Padma:

“There’s nothing useful about being married to [Sir Salman Rushdie], though. I think it works against me. I do have it easy in that I can take business class instead of coach, but I would have that if I was married to anybody.”

“In fact, I’d have to be really dumb to think that being with a writer was going to help with an acting career. I live in America. They don't give a shit about that stuff.”

“Dude, sometimes I try to say I shouldn’t go to things [parties] with him [Sir Salman] but ... I'm fucked if I do and fucked if I don’t.”

--The London Sunday Times, April 2, 2006

Breaking News: 28th Most Beautiful Lady in the World Officially Earns the “Lady” Part of Her Title

Possums, we have received word from across the pond that, in the immortal words of Tom Jones, “she’s a lady, whoa, whoa, whoa, she’s a lady.”

Yes, indeed. With the announcement that Salman Rushdie has received a knighthood from Queen Elizabeth II as part of the Queen’s Birthday Honours List, Padma Lakshmi, as the wife of Sir Salman Rushdie, may now henceforth be called Lady Rushdie.

Unfortunately for our Padma, at least according to Wikipedia, she, as the wife of a knight, is “officially styled Lady [Rushdie] as a courtesy title only.” This is of little importance, of course, for, as Padma’s own website reminded us last year, “Padma is the 28th most beautiful lady in the world! That is, according to England-based Harpers and Queen.”

And that’s no courtesy title. Congratulations, Lady Rushdie.

However, do be careful, possums, when addressing her. As she told Esquire in 2006 for the “10 Things You Don’t Know About Women” feature, “We don’t think it’s cute to be referred to as ‘the little lady.’”

First Reaction: Fried or (Half) Baked?

Oh, possums, just when she was doing so well....

Watching Top Chef: 4 Star All Stars (surprisingly, it was not subtitled, “The Grudge”), we were paralyzed for many reasons (about which we will have much more to say later). But it was the 28th Most Beautiful Lady in the World, Padma Lakshmi, who gave us the biggest jolt of botulinum.

Her hair looked good. Her clothes were sexy but tasteful—the black polka dot dress looked good, the pants ensemble looked good, the cinnamon-colored dress looked good. Heck, even her scar looked good. No hot pants, Ugg boots, or shearling vests in sight.

Our unfurrowed brow began to furrow.

And then she corrected Marcel’s pronunciation of “gelée,” just as we were in mid-wince after hearing “jell-EE.”

Aghast, the twin figures of Henry Higgins and Mr. Blackwell, who daily battle for such scraps of our soul as remain, stood mute.

Would there be anything for us to do on Season 3? Would we have to retire? Would we be perennially doomed to sweetness and light?

Fortunately (for us, at least), last night’s premiere of Season 3 revealed that there is, indeed, a reason for us to go on living. You ought to have seen the grin of relief on our basement-dweller faces, possums, as she mispronounced “amuse-bouche” yet again. Ah-MOOZE? That’s nooze to us.

And then, of course, she went on to utter the immortal line of the night, “You could fry my toe, and batter it well, and it would taste good.”

Though Tom Colicchio rolled his eyes, we positively purred. We may well have cackled. Miss XaXa, momentarily lulled into compassion by the booze, pleaded, “Come on, give her a break. She’s still making progress.”

Remembering those hot pants from last season, we had to concur. From camel-toe to fried toe is quite a journey indeed.

Is it any wonder she married the man who wrote The Ground Beneath Her Feet? (We will have much more to say about this as well; here and now we call Top Chef 3, “The Foot Fetishist’s Season.”)

Still, Padma, fried or baked, we’ve missed you, possum. Welcome back. And to you, possums, we say, as our other theme for the season, “Welcome to Meowmi.”

P.S. Regular posting will follow, including a full-fledged, Amuse-Biatch recap.