her co-stars. “Jealousy is such an ugly thing,”
she says now with a sigh. Was it really neces-
sary for her to be repeatedly attacked and
accused of “lying” on camera when she is, as
she says, “crazy hormonal”? At one point, for
example, she is more or less forced to go to a
“mindset coach” (“I help people manifest”)
to stop her slagging people off, but instead of
“closing the door to drama, for once and for
all”, we only discover more.
“I don’t want to live in that place I used to
live in when I was a child,” she whispers at
the end of one scene, about growing up in
Dallas. As a child she spent years in fear
of her mother dying: she had “lupus,
Raynaud’s, arthritis so bad, this is the only
movement in her hands. [She holds up hers
and kind of quacks them.] Her hands are
totally fused together. She had breast
cancer twice ... a double mastectomy. She
had an aneurysm, open heart surgery.”
During the surgery “we were saying
goodbye to her because the doctors were
telling us that she wasn’t going to make it.
But she made it through.”
When Quinn was 16 her mother decided
to home school her so they could spend
more time together in case she died. But
her mum couldn’t teach, “so she sent me to
an alternative school”, which is a kind of
school for children in special circum-
stances. “And that was, you know, an
eye-opener. I went to school with people
that were members of gangs, with girls that
were being trafficked. With girls that were
prostitutes, and I would see their pimps
pick them up after school. Girls that were
pregnant”, kids who were “in and out of jail,
problems with drugs. And I learnt to grow
up really quick,” she says.
She got arrested herself on her 17th
birthday. “At my birthday someone gave me
a little marijuana. My parents taught me
a lesson. They left me in jail for four days.”
What was jail like? “The food was horrible,”
she says, “and everyone was in there for
things like prostitution, and I was just, like,
I’m here for friggin’ weed.”
After she got home she moved out,
enrolled in acting classes, got her Texan
accent “beaten” out of her. “Sometimes
when I drink it can come out.” She moved
to LA to try her hand as an actress,
“usually the dumb blonde girl”, but quickly
discovered that the only person she really
liked playing was herself. She also met
Jason, one of the small men twins who own
the brokerage, and was earning cash on
the side.
When Selling Sunset came along it
seemed like a match made in heaven — she
is now the standout star of the show, one of
the funniest women on television. She is
mega-rich, married to a man who loves her,
about to launch a self-help book cum
memoir called How to Be a Boss Bitch. Well,
how do you be a boss bitch, I ask. “Just really
not giving a f *** what other people think of
you,” she says with a giggle. ■
Selling Sunset series four is on Netflix now.
The Christine Quinn x Ciaté London
collaboration is available at ciatelondon.com
Above Dress, £2,700, Dolce & Gabbana.
Shoes, £850, Jimmy Choo. Tights, £18, Falke.
Vintage Givenchy earrings, £395, Susan
Caplan. Hair bow and gloves, stylist’s own
Hair Daniel Martin at Bryant Artists using
Oribe. Make-up Andrew Gallimore at Of
Substance using Ciaté London. Nails Edyta
Betka at Of Substance using Ciaté London.
Set design Phoebe Shakespeare at Saint Luke
Artists. Local production Raw Projects
Now watch on YouTube: Christine Quinn meets Sarah Jossel to chat all things beauty, from her new
collection with Ciaté London to why she needs 500 fragrances. youtube.com/TheSTStyle
The Sunday Times Style • 17