If you were Ashley Alexandra Dupre, the 22 year-old whose hotel-room sessions with New York governor Eliot Spitzer led to his resignation earlier today, wouldn’t you want to get out of the prostitution racket by trading up on the publicity? It would be sad and sordid and icky, but don’t we all need to strike the iron when it’s hot?
If I was a talent manager and she came to me looking for help, I would pitch a reality show in which Ashley tries to change her life by submitting to an Eliza Doolittle-like makeover — a “pimp my ride” show for humans instead of cars. She’d attend cultivation classes, college philosophy courses, art classes, diction lessons, piano lessons, cooking classes in Florence, a fresh circle of friends…the whole schmeer. Everybody wants to change, upgrade, do better, reach higher. This would be a reality show about trying to literally save someone’s life. We all know what happens to most prostitutes, sooner or later.
The N.Y. Times has a story about her, and the Smoking Gun has a bunch of photos.
One problem that won’t go away. Her nose is too big. I always thought when you pay $5000 for two hours you should get a model off the runway in Milan or Paris. If the “Pimp My Life” show goes, throw in some plastic surgery.