Real estate reality TV lost its two Christine darlings in the same week. This is called a crash into the realm of hands-free calls, tweed suits and offers to buy without inspection.
Star of the docureality Numbers 1 of the Casa chain, Christine Girouard, the queen of Repentigny, was fired by RE/MAX after an investigation by The Press having revealed that one of his team members was making bogus offers to artificially inflate the price of properties in his catalog.
star of Selling Sunset (Sun to spare) on Netflix, Amazon agent Christine Quinn, 34, has been scratched from the 11 new episodes of the sixth season of this documentary pimped, online since Friday. Two Christines, two starts for a price below market value.
Unlike blonde Christine Quinn, brunette Christine Girouard, 30, was not portrayed as the naughty on duty in Numbers 1, whose second season was relayed this spring. These two Christines, however, put forward the image of the famous ” girlboss who works all the time, who doesn’t eat and who only talks about money.
With Mathieu Arsenault, the helicopter and McLaren broker who visits the barber twice a week, Christine Girouard has been screwed into the center of the stories of Numbers 1.
And Christine Girouard, a former bartender, unpacked everything for TV, except her illegal practices, of course. She swallows nothing in the morning, apart from a liter of water and two espressos. She drinks from a cup on which is written “Christine has sold”, both her advertising slogan and the name of her website, why deprive herself of promotion.
On his cell phone case? His own face. “My relationship to performance is unhealthy,” she confides in the first season.
Real estate broker since 2013, Christine Girouard boasts of being the “first in Lanaudière for her banner”, “banner” which however dropped her on Wednesday. In all episodes of Numbers 1, she exuded a confidence of the thunder. At the wheel of her white Mercedes SUV, she criss-crossed the streets of Repentigny, saluting her signs. “I always say hello to myself,” she says in the second episode.
Also, Christine Girouard took obsessive care of her body. “Our tank, our clothes, you gotta look successful,” she remarks to the camera of her custom-made jackets and eyelash, nail and hair appointments every day. two weeks.
Is it a rigid and super demanding model imposed by reality TV or does this aesthetic pressure come with the profession of real estate broker? Would it rather be a harmful combination of these two universes?
In Selling Sunset, the appearance of men and especially that of women largely eclipses their skills. Twins Jason and Brett Oppenheim, the agency bosses at the heart of the story, look like botoxed, testosterone-blasted mini-wrestlers with teeth too white and too big for their little mouths.
As for the brokers of Selling Sunset, Lord Jesus, they still look taller and slimmer than the season before. And again, the docusoap of Netflix insists that a rookie, Bre Tiesi, returns to work six weeks after giving birth. Six. Small. Weeks.
Christine Quinn, at odds with Los Angeles as a whole, hence her exclusion from Selling Sunset 6had put on her vertiginous pumps two weeks after her cesarean section.
The worst thing is that we know very well that these representations are unreal, twisted and unhealthy, but we still stuff all the episodes of Selling Sunset, without blinking. I plead guilty here, your honor.
Despite its flaws, Selling Sunset home to real estate porn punctuated by sunny pop music and paired with a parade of luxury brands. Dressed in Balenciaga, Fendi or Chanel, the brokers bling bling of Selling Sunset criss-cross Hollywood in cars that are worth the price of a condo advertised by Christine Girouard in Mascouche.
PHOTO JORDAN STRAUSS, ASSOCIATED PRESS
Christine Quinn
The chef’s kitchens, the marble islands, the infinity pools, the spectacular views of the Pacific, we take pleasure in guessing the price of these opulent residences perched on the hillside. How many bathrooms? How many square feet? Is it in Malibu? Hmm. It’s worth at least 8 million.
Of course, the appearance telenovela cements our dependence on Selling Sunset. And the (winning) recipe for soap real estate does not change. A broker organizes a free visit to a cabin at 25 million. There’s always a weird theme to the party, like Botox and Burger.
The girls arrive there in very expensive micro dresses and designer high heels. Champagne – never piquette – fills the cups.
Then, the bad guy on duty shows up last, in slow motion, to super intense music.
The tongues are untied, the insults fuse, the tears flow and the protagonists, always impeccably haircut, will dissect this altercation during the next three episodes.
Until Chrishell/Chelsea tussle with Nicole/Bre, whatever, and the dramatic music starts again and the fine step comes back, in slow motion, with knives in their eyes and perfect fingernails, duh.