Candy Spelling's 'Stories from Candyland': I read it, so you don't have to!
Remember sTori Telling? The incredibly addictive memoir from Tori Spelling that not only spilled oh-so-juicy stories from the set of 90210, but also from the Spelling manor? Well, Candy Spelling has delivered a subtle strike back to her daughter with this month’s Stories from Candyland (on stands March 31). So who bags the win in the mother-daughter battle of the (written) words? Well, Tori, obviously. Candyland is hardly more than an ode to the famous mum’s own sophistication and beauty. In other words, it’s quite boring. In fact, one chapter is even named, “My Mother’s Gloves Were Off-White.” I’m not joking. Here are other reasons why you should be glad I read Candyland, so you don’t have to…
1. Candy is always the victim, except when she isn’t. Although Candy claims she wants peace with her daughter — she writes, “It’s fine if [Tori] wants her own reality show or wants to write books about her childhood. I just wish she’d leave me out of it” — Mrs. Spelling constantly rags on Tori in the book. It starts with her painting a picture of where she was while Tori was promoting her memoir: in the hospital, preparing to undergo surgery on her arm. And when doctors and nurses questioned her about Tori’s comments, Candy only responded with words of love for her daughter. Right. Her nice words would be a lot easier to believe if she didn’t splice subtle digs at Tori into Candyland‘s text. One example: She writes that Tori stole her recipe notebooks and demands, in the book, that she “Give them back.” Instead of, you know, just calling her.
2. As previously mentioned, the memoir is boring. Want to hear about Candy’s courtship with her future husband, Aaron Spelling? Want to read about her upbringing? Well, too bad. Instead, you’ll have to settle for inane stories about how she hailed a limo in New York City, and what the L.A. Times wrote about the size of Aaron’s office. Oh, and her mother’s off-white gloves.
3. You might just vomit from reading her delusions of grandeur. For one, while watching an episode of Oprah about hoarders, Candy suddenly began to fear that Tori would appear on the show to talk about Candy’s hoarding addiction (remember what I said about those subtle digs?). Then, in another chapter, she writes that she actually worried about whether or not the tabloids would write about one of the Spelling Manor’s bathrooms, which she thought was smaller than the others.
4. You might just vomit once Candy begins to recruit friends to tell her story. In one of Candyland‘s final chapters, Candy reprints letters from friends she asked to help write her memoir. Among other things, we learn the exact way Candy makes sandwiches (thank you for that interesting tidbit, Randy Spelling!). Oh, and we learn how incredibly gifted and beautiful she’s always been. Just ask one of her high school friends, who writes, “There was always a line of boys waiting to talk to her or take her out. In senior year, she was voted best figure and best dressed…the school pulled her aside because she had the perfect figure and face for modeling.” Candy then interrupts her friend by writing, “I don’t remember all these compliments, but I hope they’re true. Nancy wasn’t done.” Of course she wasn’t. Candy couldn’t possibly cut off her friend’s words before printing the paragraph about her tenacity and politeness!
5. Candy’s love for herself is only trumped by her love for her dogs. And her pups should consider themselves lucky, because the humans in Candy’s life sure don’t seem to receive so much love and devotion. In fact, in a disgusting editorial decision, Candy decides to print a two-page letter to her grandchildren, Liam and Stella, in her memoir. I know the point of writing a memoir is to print your private thoughts, but I feel that Candy would be better served saving her loving words for when she actually visits them.
Team Tori, anyone?
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