Kris Jenner . . . And All Things Kardashian Read online

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  Karen Hunter Publishing,

  A Division of Suitt-Hunter Enterprises, LLC

  P.O. Box 692

  South Orange, NJ 07079

  Copyright © 2011 by Kris Jenner

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever. Distributed by Gallery Books. For information, address Gallery Books Subsidiary Rights Department, 1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020.

  First Karen Hunter Publishing/Gallery Books hardcover edition November 2011

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  Designed by Joy O’Meara

  Manufactured in the United States of America

  10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Jenner, Kris, 1955–

  Kris Jenner . . . and all things Kardashian / by Kris Jenner.—1st Karen Hunter

  Publishing/Gallery Books hardcover ed.

  p. cm.

  Includes bibliographical references and index.

  1. Jenner, Kris, 1955– 2. Women television producers and directors—

  United States—Biography. 3. Television personalities—United States—

  Biography. 4. Businesswomen—United States—Biography. I. Title.

  PN1992.4.J46A3 2011

  791.4502'8092—dc23

  [B]

  2011030579

  ISBN 978-1-4516-4696-2 (Print)

  ISBN 978-1-4516-4698-6 (eBook)

  To the loves of my life:

  My children, Kourtney, Kimberly, Khloé, Robert, Kendall,

  and Kylie . . . and my husband, Bruce.

  You are my heart.

  Thank you for loving me unconditionally.

  Contents

  Chapter One: The Candelabra

  Chapter Two: R.G.K.

  Chapter Three: Flying High

  Chapter Four: Heaven in Beverly Hills

  Chapter Five: Unfulfilled

  Chapter Six: Meeting My Match

  Chapter Seven: June 12, 1994

  Chapter Eight: Backstage at the Trial of the Century

  Chapter Nine: O.J. All the Time

  Chapter Ten: The Haven

  Chapter Eleven: Healing and Forgiveness

  Chapter Twelve: Keeping Up with the Kardashians

  Chapter Thirteen Building the Brand: Check!

  Epilogue: The Epiphany

  Acknowledgments

  Introduction

  I know this sounds crazy, but this is exactly where I’m supposed to be: screaming through the streets of Paris in a chauffeur-driven Mercedes with my daughter Kimberly, on our way to see the Mona Lisa in the Louvre. How I got here has been a long, wild, and winding road, which we will get to in a moment. For now, I’m going to ask you to sit back and experience the ride.

  It was September 2010, and Kim and I were in Paris to meet the international media to celebrate the fifth season of Keeping Up with the Kardashians, the hit reality show about our family, shown in many languages in 150 countries around the world.

  The show’s producers, E! and Comcast Entertainment Group, flew us to Paris first-class on British Airways. From Paris we were flown in a shiny, sexy private jet (which looked just like a beautiful black Chanel handbag), along with our glam squad, to eight European cities for the media tour. The jet was stocked with my favorite champagne, Kim’s favorite snacks, and all our favorite blankets and movies. Fabulous.

  Our show is the most-watched series in E! history, and by the end of 2010, Kim would be among the world’s most-searched people on the Internet. Her Twitter account, with almost ten million followers, as of this writing, would be among the five most followed in the world, along with those of President Barack Obama and Lady Gaga. And Kim would be named one of People magazine’s Most Beautiful People.

  As for me, I’m a unique combination of mother and manager. I’ve actually trademarked the term “Momager,” which is what I am. I spend endless eighteen-hour days creating, nurturing, and juggling the insanely busy careers, endless personal appearances, and business enterprises of my six children—Kourtney, Kim, Khloé, Rob, Kendall, and Kylie—my husband, Bruce Jenner, my son-in-law Lamar Odom, and myself. Some of the many hats I wear include those of producer, creator, and star of our reality television series for E!, from which we have launched three spin-off hit television series. There are brand endorsements to run along with our own clothing lines, including the Kardashian Kollection for Sears. I also oversee several businesses, such as our skin care line, Perfect Skin; our diet and nutrition supplement business, Quick Trim; the fragrances Kim Kardashian, Kim Kardashian Gold, and Reflection, along with Khloé and Lamar’s fragrance, Unbreakable. Oh, and did I mention I have my own clothing line launching on QVC this fall, the Kris Jenner Kollection? And I finally launched my very own blog, www.OfficialKrisJenner.com. Whew!

  My favorite hat, though, will always be “Mom.” In the midst of our media blitz through Europe, Kim and I were still a mother and daughter in Paris, and I kept insisting that we see the city. “We’re in Europe. We must do things that are really special,” I told her. “We can’t come all this way and not do a little sightseeing. We have to remember to always experience life and live it to the fullest.”

  So I arranged a special trip to see the Mona Lisa at the Louvre. We awoke that morning with a special surprise planned by the general manager of the famous Ritz Hotel, Omer Acar.

  “Before you visit our beautiful Louvre, I’ve planned something truly spectacular that I know you will both love,” he told us.

  As Kim and I left our luxurious suite, we were escorted to another floor at the Ritz. The next thing I knew, we were inside the suite where Coco Chanel lived until her death in 1971. The day before, we had been taken to Azzedine Alaïa’s atelier with him in the trendy Marais district. Now to be in Madame Chanel’s suite! Kim and I were pinching ourselves.

  As we exited the Ritz, I sadly remembered the last picture the world saw of Princess Diana before her fatal car accident—in the exact place where we were walking. Kim and I were taken aback by the blinding flash of dozens of photographers outside the hotel, as uniformed security guards hurried us to a waiting Mercedes. The cameramen climbed onto their motor scooters as we drove off in the Mercedes, and with police escorts in front and behind, their sirens blaring, we raced the paparazzi to the Louvre. Arriving at the famous museum’s pyramid, we were greeted by a team of escorts and security. They led us through private tunnels, up some stairs, then down some others. A door suddenly opened and we were standing behind a velvet rope, beyond which stood the world’s most famous woman: Leonardo da Vinci’s masterpiece of beauty and mystery, the Mona Lisa. Oh my God, pinch us again!

  The curator of the Louvre whispered in my ear, “We do not allow pictures with the Mona Lisa except on special occasions.” Then she gave us the okay to take a picture or two. So Kim and
I stood to the side of the velvet rope as a large crowd gathered, whispering our names and waving to us wildly. We took pictures alongside the famous painting, as everyone else began taking pictures of us. Incredible!

  When we left through the same side door we had entered, a crazy, chaotic crowd had gathered. It wasn’t until we were ushered away from the Mona Lisa that I realized I was numb, floating.

  As I walked toward the car, my mind wandered back to 1978 when I stood in the exact same place in the exact same city on the other side of the same velvet rope, holding hands with my husband, Robert Kardashian. We were on our honeymoon and I was a twenty-two-year-old American Airlines flight attendant. I thought, Who could have imagined that I would be back thirty-something years later, and this would be my life? I had come full circle. Now, the road I had traveled was nothing I had ever expected or planned.

  I know: the Mona Lisa will be here long after the Kardashians are gone. As I always tell my kids, “You’re going to meet the same people on the way down as you did on the way up. So be grateful and humble for the blessings that have been given to you.” Still, I had to admit that trip to the Louvre was one of the headiest experiences of my life.

  I kept thinking: This is where I’m supposed to be.

  I am a wife and a mother (believe it or not, I always dreamed of having six kids). I’m not only living that dream, I’m lucky enough to be living it on a huge stage. I’ve been blessed.

  I made it through adversity, through personal storms, tremendous personal loss, a devastating divorce, and seemingly insurmountable tragedy, and managed to pick myself up and find love and happiness without ever losing my true self or my motivation to do something with my life and become the best person that I could be.

  My mother told me I could do anything I set my mind to, and she taught me to set the bar high. She taught me to dream big and showed me through her strength and perseverance. My grandmother always said: “Do your best!” no matter how big or how small the job. And, of course, my lifelong motto is: “If someone says no, you’re talking to the wrong person.” Yet I would live two distinctly different lives—the first derailed by turmoil, tragedy, and wasted opportunities, the second as a wife and mother who not only reclaimed her power and lifelong love of family but went on to build the unlikely empire called the Kardashians.

  Coming from humble yet wonderful beginnings in Southern California, I was lucky to meet a man who should have been the love of my life, a young and successful lawyer named Robert Kardashian. He transported me into a Beverly Hills dream life and helped me foster a close relationship with God. Then I threw it all away for a crazy love (or lust) affair that left me flattened. I lost my husband, my friends, my home, and nearly my mind, only to reassemble my life and my family with my second husband, the Olympic champion Bruce Jenner.

  Shortly after Bruce and I were married, tragedy struck again: My dear friend Nicole Brown Simpson was found stabbed to death on the front steps of her home, and O.J. Simpson—another close friend whom I had known since Robert Kardashian and I were married and with whom I would be reunited during my marriage to Bruce Jenner—went on trial for her murder.

  Through the grace of God, I landed on my feet with a second life, a second chance. Standing before the Mona Lisa in the Louvre, I could reflect on it all and what we had accomplished: turning the life and times of a Southern California family into a business, an international brand, that connects with millions of people around the world through our laughter, craziness, and, most important, our love for one another.

  Yet, like the famous lady in the frame, to many we remain a mystery.

  How did we get here? What is the mystique, the magic, the story behind the smiles? Who am I to manage my family as a business and produce a hit television series, which has spawned, as of this writing, three hit spin-off series, all supported by a seemingly endless stream of endorsements, modeling contracts, clothing and fragrance lines, magazine covers, and TV appearances?

  It has taken me half a lifetime to live the story in these pages, one that I hope will show people you can follow your dreams—no matter how big—and still become whatever it is you set your mind to through hard work and perseverance, no matter your age or circumstances. And, as with any story worth telling, I have to start at the beginning . . .

  Kris Jenner

  . . . and All Things

  Kardashian

  CHAPTER ONE

  The Candelabra

  I remember the candles. Thousands of them. Green and blue and silver and gold. Candles in all sizes and shapes—angels, pillars, balls, and flowers—made of beeswax and paraffin, all so beautiful and smelling divine.

  Most of all, I remember the Gloomchasers: crushed colored glass glued onto a jar, grouted in gold, then polished and placed on teak stands with glass votive candles inside. When the votives were lit, the candles would glow and the colors would glisten, and supposedly any gloom in the room would be immediately chased away. The Gloomchasers were gorgeous, and we could not make them fast enough or keep them in stock.

  We were the candle family of La Jolla, California. In 1963, my grandparents Lou and Jim Fairbanks along with my mom, Mary Jo, opened one of the first candle stores in California. My grandfather Jim would come home after working all day at San Diego Glass and Paint and help my grandmother Lou Ethel make the Gloomchasers in their garage. At their candle store, the Candelabra, my grandmother had a room as big as a walk-in closet exclusively for Gloomchasers, all of them lit, all of them magical.

  The candles are my most vivid memory of my perfect childhood in the perfect world we had in Southern California, before it all began to fall apart . . .

  My father, Robert Houghton, was an engineer for Convair, an aircraft design and manufacturing company. He and my mom had me on November 5, 1955, and my sister, Karen, three years later. We lived in Point Loma, a really tony area of San Diego, in a big, beautiful white house like you see in the movies.

  Karen and I were extremely close in the fabulous Gidget dream of an early childhood that we shared. We looked very different. She had light brown hair, and I had jet-black hair—and she was smaller than I was. There’s a definite family resemblance, though. It’s obvious that we come from the same parents. We also had different personalities. Even though we grew up under the same circumstances and in the same environment, we just approached goals and situations differently, even in childhood. With my big, chatty personality, I’m sure I entertained my quieter sister. We loved each other, and we were there for each other through thick and thin, and to this day we are part of each other’s lives.

  When I was seven, our parents had an argument, and soon they were arguing all of the time. Finally, in 1962, my father packed his bags. He was “going away,” our parents told us, but he would be back. That’s how you did it in those days. There wasn’t a therapeutic plan for how to tell a seven-year-old and her four-year-old sister that life as they knew it was over. Soon we realized that our parents were getting divorced and our father was never coming back. We had a great relationship with him until Convair moved to Long Beach in the mid-seventies, and took my father with it. We saw him rarely after that.

  The divorce was tough for me and had lasting effects. It was very, very hard for me to wrap my head around my parents not living together anymore. My dad would come visit us at our house in Point Loma, the one that we used to all live in together. That was really hard, because we were young. He would come to visit us and then leave again. That was really weird for me. I wondered, Why is he leaving? Is he going to stay? Is this going to work out? When you are a child and your parents separate, you’re always hoping that they are going to get back together.

  My mother was such a pillar of strength through that time. I didn’t realize it then, but watching her remain that strong and upbeat through such a personal storm was very influential on me. She wasn’t going to let that divorce get her down. We moved from Point Loma to Clairemont, where my grandparents lived. My mom bought this amazing 1956
T-Bird convertible. She used to throw us in the back of the car and drive us to the beach in La Jolla. In those days you didn’t have to wear seat belts, and we’d sit in the tiny area in the back of the car with the picnic lunch she had packed. Her girlfriends would meet us at the beach, and we’d eat our picnic lunch. She did so many fun things on the weekends with us, and it was clear we were going to persevere. The three of us were going to be just fine.

  My mother raised us with rules. She wasn’t going to let us run amok. There were rules and regulations: we had to make our beds, and we had to wash our sink out when we brushed our teeth like my grandmother taught us, and we had to help her vacuum, and we had to clean the house a couple of days a week. We had to take care of our own rooms and belongings. She taught us to be responsible for ourselves, and that that was the way to overcome adversity. She taught us to just pick ourselves up by the bootstraps and soldier on with a smile. We were going to have fun, and things were going to be great. They might not be perfect, and we might not have a dad, but life was still fabulous.

  Just after my parents’ divorce in 1963, I was walking home from school in second grade, passing the huge mansion with the circular driveway near our house in Point Loma, as I did every day. For some reason I hit the inside of my left shin on a retaining wall. It hurt all night long. When I woke up the next morning, I had a bump on my leg the size of a large lemon. The doctor said we needed to do some X-rays, and when the results came back, it showed I had a bone tumor. My parents had to sign a piece of paper before I went into surgery, stating that if the doctors found cancer in my bones, they had approval to amputate my leg at the hip, or wherever the doctor determined the cancer began.

  Mom and Dad didn’t think I could hear them talking about this, but I could. So all I could think about when I went into this surgery was the doctors amputating my leg at the hip. I was scared to death. But I came out of the surgery, with my mom and my grandmother in the waiting room, and I still had my leg.