Chapter 15 Tatiana Degroode, Ryan’s personal stylist and fashion consultant
Fifteen
Tatiana Degroode, Ryan’s personal stylist and fashion consultant
I’d been working with Ryan Holding in the background for many years—specifically for her tours—but it was the Diatribe album when Mr. McIntyre approached me and extended my contract to full-time.
Ryan wanted something fresh and new for this album.
The curly mass of hair, the red lip, the overdone eyes—it had taken her as far as it could.
She and I had many talks about her philosophy behind it.
We reworked the material for the album and then made a plan for the year forward, the year it would earn her the nomination for Artist of the Year.
Because yes, she did receive that nomination.
It was 2012 then: a time of great shifting in the celebrity landscape, I felt. Katie Holmes’s split from Tom Cruise, Miley Cyrus’s controversial pixie cut, Whitney Houston’s death. Beyoncé, a mother. You feel these things, you know. The energy was ripe for Ryan to step into a new era of her career.
Diatribe was no longer bluegrass, and Ryan had come to grips with that. This would be her first album as a full-fledged star, a woman. No longer a teenager, no longer the Ryan she had been when she started out. And all the guest musicians on the album attested to that.
The hair—yes, the hair was the biggest part.
That was a clear change. We cut it, added bangs, made it sleek and elegant.
We colored it closer to a brighter red, almost a strawberry blond, removing the lowlights.
Ryan and I examined the look she had created thus far, this sort of 1940s chic, and asked ourselves: How could we bring it into the future?
2012 was more pastel, more soft, understated.
We went more natural and smoky; she did not need the stark makeup.
She was confident in the woman she had become.
And if not, then it would only be a matter of time. The look would make it so.
Because it was a style fit for the Artist of the Year.
Skip
I remember when I got the call from the AMAs.
I was making coffee in Madcap’s little kitchenette, and I recognized the number on my cell; I answered so fast I knocked the pot over, and it spilled all across the counter.
There I was, talking with the head of programming at the American Music Awards, who was telling me that Ryan had been nominated, nodding along as I’m sopping up scalding coffee from the floor.
I had this feeling like I wanted to tell Ryan right away. I don’t know—this was the first album where things had felt really tough, like there was a lot riding on it, and she’d worked her ass off. She’d really turned it around. So I wanted her to know that it had worked.
I ran all over the goddamn studio until I found her shut up in the lounge with Wilder, the two of them working so hard on something with their heads bent together that they jumped when I barged in.
“We got it, Ryan,” I said. I must’ve been grinning ear to ear. “Well—you got it.”
“No way,” she said. She stood up. “The AMAs?”
“Believe it, kid.”
And she screamed.
Tatiana
We dressed her in a champagne gown. She is so tall, that one.
A long ball gown of taffeta with a tight bodice and dramatic skirt, and big diamond earrings.
Hollywood, the old Hollywood she loved, but understated.
The dress had a slit that went all the way up her left leg.
Tall nude heels. She towered like a Venus but held herself well—I had to tell her early in our relationship, stop hunching, stop hunching, don’t apologize for the space you take up. I will not work with women who hunch.
Back straight, chin lifted, or the clothes will wear you. Move deliberately and with grace, and no one will be able to deny you.
Stand tall.
Mari
I watched from the TV set in Ben’s apartment. We were supposed to be having a night in together, and he was . . . getting irritated with me.
“If she was a dick to you, move on already,” he said. “Why keep dragging it out by watching her every move?”
“That is not what I’m doing,” I said. “I just want to see if she wins.”
He said, “What do you care? What has she ever done for you?”
He wasn’t necessarily wrong, but if fame made Ryan selfish with her attention, it was because she had to be. It was all-consuming. Most of us don’t have jobs that center around us, ourselves, being a brand.
It had been clear to me when I saw Ryan’s billboard in Chinatown that she was becoming her own brand. She had been a brand for a long time.
“I won’t watch the whole thing, I just want to see what happens,” I sort of snapped at him. “Calm down.”
Ryan was still my friend. I knew she cared about my life even when she forgot to ask. So even though I was mad at her, even though we weren’t talking, part of me still wanted to cheer her on.
Plus, I got this weird thrill of vindication when I saw Kylie Cameron there with her on the screen.
Kylie
I got to be Ryan’s date to the AMAs that year!
Well, a lot of that had to do with the fact that I had no one else to go with.
And neither did she. Ryan was taking a break from all boys after the Justin fiasco.
Even though she kept texting someone and hiding her phone, so I don’t know if there was a mysterious lover . . .
The stylists got us ready together, and we blasted Socket Plug’s new album and laughed about our exes together. She put on Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, which I had somehow never seen before, but I was like, wow. That is a great movie.
I’d never been someone’s guest to an awards show. It was actually kind of fun not to be the center of attention for once. We had dinner together and took our seats and waited for the broadcast team to do their final check.
“Are you nervous?” I asked her.
She made a face. “Only about the fact that Helladonna is presenting my category,” she said.
Yeah. Oof.
Mari
Ben had made this whole penne alla vodka recipe and was dishing it up in the kitchen while they were counting the categories down.
Ryan had already swept the Favorite Country Album category, which would be controversial, and Favorite Country Female Artist. It was the last time she won either of those categories.
I was standing in the living room with the remote in my hand; I told Ben I’d mute it while we were eating, but they were down to Favorite Duo or Group, and something in me couldn’t turn away. I could hear him dishing up in the kitchen, and the clanging of the utensils sounded very pointed.
As I placed my thumb on the mute button, Helladonna walked onto the stage in this fiery-orange ballgown.
Helladonna
I said what I said. Did anybody disagree with me? No.
American Music Awards Broadcast, November 18, 2012
Helladonna: . . . Thank you, thanks, everyone!
Okay, it’s the part of the night y’all have been waiting for!
I’m here to announce the 2012 American Music Awards Artist of the Year.
Our nominees are: Victor!a. Lady Gaga. Ryan Holding.
Tame J. And Rhianna. And the winner of the 2012 Artist of the Year is . . .
[Helladonna opens the envelope, and her shoulders visibly slump. She rolls her eyes.]
Helladonna: Oh, come on. It’s Ryan Holding.
[The crowd breaks out in applause and jeers as the camera cuts away from Helladonna to Ryan, who looks uncertain.
She walks to the stage amid the entrance music and awkwardly takes the pyramidal glass trophy from Helladonna.
As the music swells, one more comment from Helladonna is audible: I’m just saying what we’re all thinking!
Then Ryan stands at the mic, and the crowd grows silent. ]
Ryan: I want to thank you all, but I also want to take a moment to say something important.
I am not here to be belittled. I have been stalked, physically attacked, harassed, criticized, and made fun of, just for pursuing the career I love.
That is what it is to be a woman in this industry.
And for some twisted reason, so much of that hate comes from other women.
From my peers. Helladonna . . . I know you’ve been through the same challenges.
You’ve had a difficult year too. And I see and respect you.
I only ask for the same thing in return.
[Ryan pauses to look down at the award in her hands.]
Ryan: It’s a privilege to be able to do this work, and I want to honor every artist here tonight who has fought tooth and nail to be in this room. I am with you. I celebrate you. Thank you for recognizing me too. Stand tall.
[Ryan holds the award aloft. Thunderous applause roars from the crowd.]
Jasmine
I was standing with rest of the team backstage as they led Ryan over to the wings. She came immediately to me and threw her arms around me.
“Did I do okay?” she asked. I could feel her heart beating fast, boom-boom-boom, through her dress. “I was so scared. I forgot to thank you all. I didn’t know what to do.”
I squeezed her tight and said, “You were perfect.”