Being Kendra (17 page)

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Authors: Kendra Wilkinson

BOOK: Being Kendra
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It wasn’t always easy with Louis, but I will say this: He taught me how to dance! (
© Adam Larkey/American Broadcasting Companies, Inc.
)

If you look at the cast you can relate it to a high school classroom with nerds and jocks and prom queens. I think that Wendy might have been the too-cool-for-school person. Take Kirstie Alley, probably the biggest star on the show; she was the prom queen. And yet she was just like everyone else, down-to-earth, wanting to meet my family. She loves the baby, and she’s invited us to her house. She was like, “When the show is done I would love for you and your son to come over and play with my animals.” We got along really good.

Ralph Macchio was like the teacher’s pet. Everyone loved him. He’s not really the nerd, he’s just as close to a perfect person as I’ve ever met. I always made fun of him because I knew immediately he was the front-runner, so I would say things like, “Ralph, I’m about to Tonya Harding your ass. I’m about to whack you.”

Hines Ward was really funny. We had the same view of this show, which was basically “What is this and why the hell are we doing it?” When we would watch a ballet, like a full-on ballerina ballet on the dance floor, me and Hines were like, “Haaaa!” and just laughing, but meanwhile all the other dancers were taking it so seriously. Me and Hines were like, “We just want to go into our trailer, drink some Patrón, and listen to some hip-hop.” He definitely knows how to dance, but like me it’s club dancing. I was out of my element, and I think he probably was too. So I was shocked when he won! That just goes to show what an amazing athlete he is. Even though he wasn’t a dancer, he was in such great shape and had such an ability to be persistent far beyond what any reality star, actress, or singer would have done that it just landed him the mirror ball trophy.

I think it was pretty evident that his dancing partner, Kym Johnson, liked him, but it always appeared to me that Hines didn’t really want anything to do with her at first. Hines is a good-looking guy; I could see why Kym might have been attracted to him. But he’s an athlete and a player; I don’t think he was looking to settle down. You can take the player out of the game, but you can’t take the game out of the player. She’s from Australia, so she doesn’t know the average American guy. Hines, I think he’s proud to be a player and I respect him for that. I respect a guy who walks around and goes, “I’m a player, so what?” I would see her trying to snuggle up next to him and I would just laugh.

On Tuesdays before elimination, Hank would come over to the set and bring a bottle of wine, and we would have sex in the trailer before the results show. Whenever you saw me smiling on camera on Tuesdays, it’s because I just had sex. All of the celebs would be giggly and relaxed during elimination, waiting in the results room. Who knows what they were all doing in their separate trailers, but I know what I was doing in mine! I just wanted to make it fun. That day was basically just a recap of everything we had done all week. I would get there at nine
A.M
., get hair and makeup done (I would sleep in my hair from the night before though so they wouldn’t have to spend too much time on it), and then just hang out. It was out of my hands at that point; I had already performed for America on Monday. So Tuesdays were my favorite, because Mondays were so crazy and scary and intense. Tuesdays I would be goofy and try to keep myself busy. One day Toby Keith came and performed, and I love his music, so I had a bunch of wine, and I was drunk and sneaked into rehearsal to watch him. I was a huge fan and I went up to him and I was dancing on the side of the stage like a total dork during sound check.

And then, after seven weeks, I got voted off the show. I was sad to end my run and I knew I’d miss all of my new friends, but I was happy too. I could go back to focusing on my family and not worrying about the judges and Louis.

I feel like overall it was a smart choice to do
DWTS
. I got to show more of America who I am, and while the producers didn’t always play my greatest moments, I knew that I had to create more moments and demonstrate to people who I really was. So I farted on TV. I created that moment. That was my signature moment. That’s who I am. I’m so glad they “aired” that. The judges had been so hard on me all season and so critical of me about who I was that I just needed to show America who I really was, not who the judges portrayed me as.

It was important to impress the judges, but ultimately it was a popularity contest. The producers were going to keep the people on who best helped the buzz of the show. It was obvious and common sense who would be eliminated first: no one had ever heard of Mike Catherwood. Compared to Kirstie Alley or Ralph Macchio, he’s just not someone who is in the spotlight. I’m not sure if he and Wendy Williams were even trying to be good; it was obvious those two were going first. Wendy’s got a successful talk show on the East Coast and a family; I can’t imagine she was focusing or putting her all into it. It’s hard being away from your life. However, it was obvious that Kirstie Alley was going to be the star of the show from day one.

When
DWTS
told me I had the gig, I assumed I’d have a decent shot at winning. I’d been on a hit show, been on the covers of magazines, and had to be a good buzz getter for the show. But that was before I saw who else was on the show. When I saw Kirstie Alley announced I realized I wasn’t going to win. I’m honest with myself; it’s all about popularity, and when I saw the Karate Kid and a Super Bowl champ and a wrestler, all of a sudden my cable show and tabloid popularity didn’t mean much. At that point I knew I just needed to try my hardest. I’m not saying the show is rigged—there
is
a level of skill involved—but this isn’t the presidential election system either. The hard part was making Louis buy into this. He kept thinking that the harder you dance the better you do. What Louis never got was that no matter what happened during the course of the season, Kirstie Alley and her weight loss were going to take her all the way to the finals. I was always aware of what this show was all about.

I knew my demise was imminent during week four when I did the Viennese waltz and Carrie Ann Inaba judged me on my “elegance.” She said I was “afraid of elegance,” but she wasn’t concentrating on my dancing, she was concentrating on my life. The judges were making me into a
Playboy
stripper; they weren’t letting that go.

Carrie Ann’s comment wasn’t that mean, it was just the way she said it. She was referring to my life. This wasn’t a reality contest, this was a dance contest. If I smelled my armpits off-camera or dressed like a slob in sweatpants all day, then so be it. But don’t judge me. It’s not
Living
Your
Life
All
Day
with
the
Stars,
it’s
Dancing
with
the
Stars
. Judge me on my dancing, not my elegance or lack of elegance because I talk about getting my period. They weren’t looking past that and I knew at that point they had decided my destiny. It dawned on me that all season they were always commenting on my boobs or my character. So it was always just a matter of when I’d go, not if.

It was a Monday dance night. Each week has a different task you need to do, with new costumes, new interviews, and new stories, almost like a plotline for that week that producers would capture during filming, but I hadn’t been assigned anything. So I knew that I wasn’t moving on because the production direction had stopped. That’s show business for you! It was the beginning of the end.

So we started dress rehearsal and Louis was being nice. Something was different. He was being smiley, giving me compliments, and sympathizing with me, praising me, showing me love, being nicer—it was so weird! He kept saying, “Good job!” He made me believe I could do the best I could do! For the first time in seven weeks, during the tango, I finally felt good about myself because I saw a smile from Louis. So afterward I said to Hank, “Louis seemed very different, he seemed happy and nice to me.” And Hank said, “Oh yeah, good. I guess that talk worked.” Hank had finally had that talk with Louis. I don’t know what he said and I don’t want to know. He must have scared the shit out of him because Louis was a totally different person. But at least I got to walk away happy.

Power nap! Take it when you can get it.

Dancing
with
the
Stars
was a lot of stress on my body and my brain. I spent countless hours in the tub soaking my muscles and even more lying facedown on my pillow wishing I didn’t have to do it anymore. Not that I didn’t have fun—I did—but it’s excruciating having to get up there and perform every Monday night after practicing every day of the week for it. Someone like Hines Ward, who’s won Super Bowls and thrives on big moments and competition and and has a “practice makes perfect” attitude in life, is better suited for
Dancing
with
the
Stars
than a mom whose only high-heeled dancing experience came with a stripper pole and crumpled-up dollar bills. It was a challenge, and one I’m very proud to have stepped up to, but I think I’m done with the ensemble celebrity cast for a long time. I don’t see myself joining
Celebrity
Apprentice
or
Celebrity
Rehab
any time soon. I love being on E!, I love being a hidden secret. ABC rakes in about twenty-three million viewers a night for
DWTS
. E! rakes in an average of only 1.5 million for me, but if I had a choice, I would want to stay on E! because that’s just who I am. I don’t like twenty-three million people watching me, I like 1.5 million people watching me. If someone told me that 1.5 million people were watching me on ABC, I would have probably won the competition. Oh, who am I kidding? I’d die to have that kind of audience for my show!

It was good to get back to my life after
DWTS
. I had a couple of weeks of “free time” before filming for
Kendra
started up again. At this point, we were moving into our new house in Calabasas, doing preproduction meetings, and getting ready for season number four. I didn’t realize how much I loved my little cable show until I saw how much effort and stress went into making a big blockbuster network show. Luckily for me, my skills of being a mom and housewife score me 10s across the board on
Kendra
. It was nice to be back in my “normal” home life with my Hanks.

B
efore I got my own show, I had to surround myself with the right team to get me on the right path. As far as anyone else was concerned, I was just this bimbo with big boobs who liked to dance on top of bars and take tequila shots. I was known for being the backup girlfriend to Hugh Hefner. I was supposed to smile, show some cleavage, and kiss him on one of his cheeks (the other cheek was usually reserved for Holly or Bridget). But what I knew was that was just me trying to be what everyone expected. I was slowly outgrowing that and plotting my next move. What they never expected is what came next.

When I started to realize at the Playboy Mansion that I could make my own business out of me, I also realized that Playboy was only worried about Playboy. Especially during the third and fourth seasons of
The
Girls
Next
Door
. If I wanted to appear on a show like
The
Tonight
Show
with
Jay
Leno,
the Playboy publicist would call me and they would tell me what I could and could not say. “Kendra, you know that doesn’t look good for the Playboy brand,” or “Don’t talk about yourself so much.” No one but me was concerned about my future. It was always Playboy, Playboy, Playboy. That’s when I woke up and I hired people for me. The “me” factor is really important. We are taught to be selfless, and share, and be considerate of others, and I totally get and respect that. But when you are your own business and you make money off of yourself, you have to forget about selflessness and sharing and instead put your “me” mode into high gear. You can be all about yourself and still be nice.

I was searching for a manager or someone who could guide me and build me. The big-time legitimate agents weren’t knocking down my door; at this point I was just a girl who had been on the cover of
Playboy
and lived with Hugh Hefner. But I did finally meet someone who promised he’d get me some deals. He ended up being a worthless nobody who used me. He just hung on my coattails, and I don’t know why I let him. I just didn’t know any better. I wasn’t the least bit business savvy back then. It was an
Entourage
type of thing. He had never represented anybody before me but he was a smooth talker and I thought he could swing some deals for me. Instead I felt that my money had been mismanaged and I ended up almost suing him. I’m sure that happens every day in Hollywood, but I didn’t know any better. I was young and had no experience, and I was desperate to break out on my own. We did a lot of cash deals and I wasn’t sure what moneys were coming in and what percentage I actually was supposed to get. Now I don’t even talk about a deal without some form of written communication.

It took a while to form my team. I went through a couple different publicists and associates who didn’t understand how to help me make it happen, and I had to learn what I was looking for and how to represent myself before I could actually build my dream team. I had to go through the bad to get the good. But I was always aware that I needed to find people who could help look after me as a brand and my career. I just couldn’t always do anything about it.

From there I went to different agencies trying to find new people. They tried to wow me with their big buildings and fancy artwork hanging in the halls. Everyone in this town tries to one-up each other and show off. “We’ve got a company jet, you can use it.” “We represent Tom Cruise. We represent Brad Pitt.” We we we we we we. No one was talking about
me
. It was during this time that I met my current agent, Brian Dow. He wanted to meet me at Pinkberry because he was craving frozen yogurt, and I was like, “Okay, I’m going to work with you.” I didn’t know him at all but that sounded so much more “me” than anything about a private jet or Brad Pitt at this point, and after meeting with him, I knew he was right for me. Any guy who bases a meeting around frozen yogurt is the right guy for me. He didn’t try to put out all the bells and whistles, he was merely about results (and a large Pinkberry with almond toppings).

Brian’s first move was to send me on some publicist interviews so I could find someone to protect my image and help me shape it. My first Hollywood publicist was a huge mistake. I don’t think she understood who I was or my fan base. What works for Jennifer Aniston isn’t going to work for me. I was coming off of Playboy but was ready to branch out. I wasn’t expecting the cover of
Vanity
Fair,
but I did expect everyone I worked with to hop on the “let’s do this” bandwagon. I was excited when they set me up for a big interview with
Us
Weekly
magazine. Here I was going into a big magazine to tell my side of the story: “Hef’s girl tells all.” It was
supposed
to be fun and bubbly, but it turned into a disaster. My publicist didn’t tell me how interviews worked, and I stayed in that interview much too long.

During those couple of hours I said a lot of things I regret, things I shouldn’t have said and wouldn’t have said if I had received better guidance from my publicist. I gave in to passion in the moment and I didn’t know what to reveal and what not to reveal. The interview basically made it seem like I was bashing Hugh Hefner’s way of life. In reality, I was just angry about the way certain things worked out and I probably got too involved in my own fame to know when to keep my mouth shut. Now I know that you don’t give a magazine like that that much time for an interview. I’ve done a million interviews since, and let me tell you how long they are supposed to take: thirty to forty-five minutes. Hang. Up. The. Phone. Or in this case, just walk away. But this was the worst of the worst. They were telling me it was going to be this big question-and-answer session. Next thing I know the article comes out and it’s a big, explosive tell-all. Oops! It looked like I was slamming Hef and Playboy and confessing to doing all of these horrible things when really I was just answering very tough questions they had preplanned. The magazine did its job in getting the ultimate interview it wanted. I felt like my publicist didn’t do her job in protecting me.

It was the most embarrassing article of my life. I was devastated that I let people down, and I felt like my career was more out of control than I realized. I fired my publicist right on the spot. She completely didn’t have my back, and instead of handling my PR, she dismantled it. I almost lost my job, my family, and everything I had because of that article. My family was pissed at me, E! was pissed at me, Playboy was mad at me. Pretty much anyone I could have talked about over the course of that interview (i.e., everyone) hated me. Kevin Burns, the executive producer of my show, called my publicist and bitched her out. He was like, “What the fuck do you do? All she’s got is who she is and you destroyed that and pissed off a lot of people.” That is when I got really fearful.

It was at this low point that I began to really meet the people who would form my team. After a few disastrous experiences with typical Hollywood publicists who almost ruined my chances of creating my brand, I met with Kira Costello, who would become my publicist. She was very sweet and attentive. That is when I learned what this business is all about. When I met with her I said, “Tell me what you do, who you are, and what you can do for me.” I should have said that during my first set of meetings with all of the losers before. I learned a big lesson from being beaten down. So I gave her a challenge. I didn’t say, “Fix my problems,” I didn’t say, “Go get me the cover of
People
magazine.” Her biggest test was to get us into the
Transformers
premiere. Hank is a huge fan of
Transformers
and I wanted to take him to the premiere. At this point I wasn’t an automatic RSVP—my name didn’t always get me into things I wanted. So getting me into the
Transformers
premiere at the very last minute wasn’t easy. She ended up doing it and we hired her. When Kira got that for me, I knew she was the publicist for me. Plain and simple, she was working for me and got me what I wanted. I’d build from there. The two biggest decisions I made in my professional career were based on Pinkberry and
Transformers
. It actually doesn’t get any more Hollywood than that.

Now I have my agent, Brian; I have Kira, who went from being my publicist to my branding agent; and I have a group of others who, depending on what projects I’m working on, pitch in. I finally took charge of my life, which is a great place to be. I can’t tell you how many people I talk to who tell me they are afraid to fire their nanny or they hate their secretary or business partner. I’ve learned that if you’ve got someone holding you back, you’ve just got to move on from them. Now I know my team is out there protecting my image and working hard to grow my brand. I’ve even got Playboy’s PR people still involved in my life and I’ve learned to love them. As long as I stay on the up and up about Playboy I’m all good. I’m glad I still work with them. (No, they did not make me say that or pay me to say that.) And, of course, I’ve got Eddie.

Ultimately, it was this team and all of their hard work that landed me my own show. The successful transition from Playboy Playmate and supporting cast member of
The
Girls
Next
Door
into full-on star of my own show,
Kendra,
had been completed.

Shooting a reality TV show is a lot harder than most people realize. A soap opera or even a sitcom takes a script and rips through that script trying to bang out as much dialogue as possible in one day. Come in, say your lines, head home. Sure, it takes a while to put one episode together, but all in all the words and the story are there and you just have to try to get it right on the first take. If you don’t, you try again for take two. But imagine if the actors actually had to come up with their own material. Or invite the production crew into their home for extra footage. Imagine there was no real script. I think we all saw how Charlie Sheen did in his stand-up routine when he didn’t have the
Two
and
a
Half
Men
producers writing the jokes for him. He bombed and was booed off the stage. That’s my show in a nutshell, a dramedy without a script.

We shoot a whole season over the course of three months. But it could take a week to get one episode’s worth of footage. For season four we started filming in June 2011, with the show scheduled to air in early fall. That is a short period of time for TV. But when you are having meltdowns and marital woes, raising a newborn, and moving all around the country, there’s never a lack of material.

During the first month of shooting, the cameramen act like flies on the walls, just catching up with our lives and seeing what happens. The producers just want to get a sense of what the new issues are, what we’re fighting and crying over, and what’s coming up. They also try to recap some of what the viewers have missed out on over the last few months, what has happened during the time we have been off-camera. The first month is dedicated to natural “real” reality. It’s almost like a documentary; they are just there for everything.

The first month we have ten-hour days, three days a week. Those are the days we don’t schedule too many meetings and I try to live a normal version of my life. And I know everyone thinks reality TV is fake, but here’s the thing: It’s up to me to provide good footage for the story department. They are the ones who give us feedback and say we need this and that. The less direction I get from them, the better I know I am doing. It’s up to me to be funny and give them some drama. If I have a lot going on in my life, we are golden. If they just tape me changing Hank’s diapers, I’m not sure that’s so entertaining.

Let’s say on August 15 I film a scene where I’m driving in my car and I get stuck in a traffic jam for an hour and am late for an interview (50 percent chance that will happen this week or today, FYI!) and have a complete panic attack. The producers love that. It’s real, it’s relatable, and frankly, who doesn’t get all freaked out about being stuck in traffic when you need to be somewhere? So the story department will come back to me a month later and say, “We really like that scene you did, but we didn’t get quite what we needed, so we need you to be in the same outfit from that day, and we’re going to have to go out and get in a traffic jam on that same highway, but we need you to be angrier and more out of control.” So we’d have to drive back out and find the traffic jam (which, in L.A., isn’t that hard to do) and I’d have to react to the traffic jam again. It’s basically cleaning up the first month.

I try to give them what they need that first month. I try to be funny. I’m never fake. But I might push the envelope a little. Look, if I’m stuck in an hour-long traffic jam, my reaction is going to be frustration, anger, and panic. There’s no faking that. And if you drag me out to that traffic jam a month later, believe me, I will have the same reaction, if not harsher and even more pissed.

E! is kind of known as one of the glamorous cable networks, showing you the other side of celebrity. They get kind of angry with me sometimes because I don’t wear makeup and I wear sweats all the time. MTV is aimed at college-aged kids and younger, Bravo is all about the fashion and rich housewives, and E! has a little more personality and glam. They are looking for personality, pretty people, and really interesting stories. They are also looking for someone who looks good. I look good, but I don’t like makeup and I don’t like my hair done and I don’t like to wear high heels and tight Herve Leger dresses. I’m not a glamorous person at all, so if I wore that kind of stuff you’d know I was being fake. But look at everyone else on E!; comparatively I look like someone from
Teen
Mom
. Sometimes I do have to suck it up and put on makeup in the morning to shoot.

Before shooting the fourth season, my executive producer, Kevin Burns, called me and said, “I would like to see more makeup on you and I would like for you to dress a little better this season.” He’s a really good friend and like a family member to me, but when he goes into work mode and tells me to wear more makeup it does offend me. My initial reaction is, “Wait. One of my friends is telling me not to be me.” Then I have to take a step back and think about why he’s telling me that. We’re trying to sell something—me. The whole “sex sells” thing really does exist. The Kardashians rule E! because they are the glamorous ones. They’re gorgeous and sexy and wear tight clothes and a ton of makeup, and they talk about sex, and dating, and bodily fluids—pretty much anything goes with regard to the female species in the Kardashian world. They play it up on the show. Then you go to my show and I’m like the biggest scrub of them all. And I burp and change giant number two diapers. My executive producer is worried because he fears that I’m not glamorous enough to keep a show running on E!. He just wants the best for me. He wants me to keep my job. He feels like he is saving me by telling me to put more makeup on. He’s probably right. I probably would be more successful if I dressed the part. I know the Kardashians get higher ratings than I do, but I can’t imagine that has anything to do with makeup.

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