![]() ![]() Alexis on Project Runway’s Nina Garcia: “Pretending to know everything about beauty, meanwhile looking like this weird chinless monster.” On Michael Phelps: “He’s ugly … His feet are size 14. She has opinions about pretty much everyone and everything, almost uniformly negative, with the exception of the hodgepodge of things she loves, like Garrison Keillor, Andy Rooney, the Shake Shack, and banjo music. 357 Magnum she bought to euthanize her aged bulldogs in the event that World War III broke out and she had to flee the island pet-less. The breast lift, the Botox, the in vitro shots to try to get pregnant, the “betweeny” wax she favors over the Brazilian, the recurrent sexual fantasies involving Scott Bakula, the past dabbling in lesbianism, the abortion she had years ago, the. or phone number, it is Alexis-once the sphinxlike character sitting in the front row of her mother’s trial-who has for the last two and a half years been relating every detail of her life on-air. ![]() While Jennifer is the hardworking, chatty, good girl on the show, always keeping the conversation going, never forgetting to throw out the show I.D. Martha Stewart’s daughter is just getting warmed up. “If you listen to the show, you’ll know that my area has to be calm before I can calm down,” she says, goes back to her rigorous wiping, then turns and clarifies: “Not my vaginal area. “It’s their drool and snot that I don’t like,” she says of the previous occupants of the D.J. We’re in the studio for the half-hour run-up to airtime, and Alexis, dressed in a lunch-on-the-yacht ensemble of tight white jeans and a brown halter that accentuates her arachnid-lithe limbs, is furiously scrubbing her keyboard, monitor, and microphone with a Lysol Wipe. Jennifer is Jennifer Koppelman Hutt, Stewart’s co-host on “Whatever With Alexis and Jennifer,” a two-hour weekday drive-time show that, for the last three years, has been quietly burning up Sirius satellite radio. How nice, but, uh, why? “Jennifer likes me to lighten the blow of my lovely personality,” Alexis explains. Even her mother would be hard-pressed to do better. The taste-deep, rich cocoa, a layer of buttery graham cracker at the base-is such that whoever makes those Magnolia cupcakes should commit ritual suicide in shame. The frosting-a marshmallow whip, light as foam, and precisely applied to the crowns in clockwise strokes-has been individually torched to a flawless golden brown. Inside are six cupcakes fastened into a matching brown tray that ensures they don’t touch one another. Barely smiling, she hands over a shiny brown box tied with thin, Champagne-colored satin ribbon. “Cupcakes,” Alexis Stewart says a minute after we’ve met on a Thursday afternoon in late August. Photo: (Left) Courtesy of Alexis Stewart (Right) Todd Plitt/Getty Images (Left)Martha and Alexis in the early seventies (Right) Announcing "The Apprentice" spinoff in 2005.
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