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 Kezia Laird, pictured with her mom Sherrie Lea Laird (right), says she hasn't been paid the promised $5,000 for her appearance on the Slice network reality shot Princess. (ALEX UROSEVIC/Sun Media) |
Once upon a time in Etobicoke, there lived a beautiful princess, Kezia Laird, 24.
She dwelled in a sunny loft high above the shopping malls, spas and boutiques of that enchanted west-end land.
One fine day, her lovely mom, Sherrie Lea, 45, saw a casting call on craigslist.
"Hey Princess!" it said. "New Slice network series.
"Location: GTA.
"Compensation: $5,000."
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This heralded a new reality show, Princess, to be hosted by Gail Vaz-Oxlade, of Til Debt Do Us Part fame.
The ad asked: "Does a friend or family member think the world revolves around her?
"Does a girl who can't leave the house unless she's in $300 jeans and matching manicure sound familiar?"
It rang a bell with Sherrie Lea, who showed the ad to her daughter.
"I'm not really that much of a princess," insists Kezia, a makeup artist. "I do like nice things, but I won't bite off your fingers to get at them."
Indeed most of her debt is to her family for tuition at cosmetics school in Yorkville.
"I just thought the show would be a fun way to make $5,000," says Kezia. "And I thought they'd teach me to save money."
BIG FANS
Besides, our princess and her mom were fans of Ms. Vaz-Oxlade.
Now they think she's the evil stepmother.
The fairy tale has taken a horror-story turn. Kezia is a damsel in distress. She says she was constantly mocked and degraded -- then short-changed. In fact, she hasn't yet seen a cent.
"I knew I was going to be made fun of and I was OK with that ... for $5,000."
And that's what brings me to Princess Kezia's loft. A deep, grey gloom obscures Bloor St. far below. The haunting calls of GO trains rise through the mist. Kezia wears black Lululemon slacks and Forever 21 top. Her blue-grey eyes are smoking.
She and her mom, who also got camera time on Princess, recount the tale. It's quite Grimm, if you'll pardon the expression.
'TORTURE'
"I cried every day," Kezia tells me. "It was torture. They kept bringing up my grandmother, who died of cancer on my birthday."
Grandma's last words to her -- "I wanted to get you that coat" -- were thrown back in her face, as if Kezia were upset about not getting the gift.
One of her show "challenges" was to do makeup for women with cancer.
"Of course, I wanted to do it, but they knew it would remind me of my grandmother. They knew it was sensitive. They did everything they could to make me cry."
Other challenges:
They took away her credit cards and made her live on $155 a week. No sweat, Snow White.
Then they took away her makeup kit. All but mascara, foundation and lip gloss. Rapunzel! Rapunzel!
But she completed that challenge, too.
Plus she washed dishes at a Thornhill restaurant. She organized a fashion photo shoot to budget, mostly with her own money, including hiring a crew of six.
She says she did all Vaz-Oxlade asked, three eight-hour days a week for nearly two months, ending Nov. 12.
The worst test was at a mall in Newmarket. They made her wear a tiara and -- villains! -- they forced her to shop. At high-end stores. But for bargains. She had to buy jeans, dress boots, a dress, hoodie and track pants for a total of $500.
She had a tantrum -- "I knew that's what they wanted."
Vaz-Oxlade called her a "flake and a liar."
But she beat budget by $30.
Cue the fairy-tale ending? Five grand at the end of the rainbow?
Nope. Hold onto your hat, Hansel! Gird your loins, Gretel!
In the final episode, Vaz-Oxlade chided her for not having learned her lessons in frugality, then tossed a mock $2,000 cheque.
Shocked, Kezia fled outside, to the sidewalk at Yonge and St. Clair. A minute later, her bags followed. "They told me I was done.
"I couldn't stop crying. I felt violated. So ripped off."
"And I feel guilty because I got her into it," adds her mom, a rock singer.
The two plan to take Slice to small claims court.
The producers didn't return phone calls late yesterday, but lawyer Danny Webber has sent a letter to Kezia and her mom.
Show payouts, he writes, are at the discretion of the host and producers. So says the contract, though the casting call ad plainly says $5,000.
And if the women don't back off, Webber warns, they won't even get the $2,000.
Whatever happened to knights in shining armour riding through the forest to rescue the damsel?
Sorry, princess. Reality bites.
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