Pity poor Kim Kardashian. It’s rare that the reality star, entrepreneur and self-made billionaire looks out of place – the woman has been the face (and body) of aspiration for so long, and has crossed over so many previously unbreachable social and class divides, I’d assumed it was nigh-on impossible to make her feel uncomfortable. But if her inaugural, faltering steps into the world of F1 have shown us anything, it’s that she is as susceptible as the rest of us to making a snafu when not on home turf.
It’s a little surprising, I’ll admit. This is the person who managed to both “break the internet” with a picture of her bottom and appear on the cover of Vogue more than 10 times; a person who seems just as at home arguing for criminal justice reform at the White House as she does flogging faux-pube micro thongs as part of her underwear brand Skims’ hard launch.
Whether it’s down to a lifetime of Botox or simply an implacable demeanour, she didn’t display the merest hint of discomfiture that time she was practically sewn into Marilyn Monroe’s iconic, crystal-encrusted gown for the Met Gala. Embarrassment slips off her so easily; it’s like the woman’s been dipped in Teflon.
Yet Kardashian’s appearance at the Grand Prix in Monaco this weekend to support new boyfriend Lewis Hamilton proved that no amount of money, fame or confidence can totally inoculate you against the challenge – and scrutiny – that comes with entering into a partner’s world.
With her look-at-me LA aesthetic and unmistakable Jessica Rabbit-esque silhouette, Kardashian was always going to draw attention in her first outing as a racing WAG. Appearing distinctly anachronistic amid the understated “quiet luxury” favoured by sophisticated Monaco elites, she was quickly accused by some corners of the media of making the Grand Prix into a red carpet event just by turning up.
When Hamilton celebrated winning second place with the standard “let’s waste some very expensive champagne by spraying it over the crowd/my girlfriend” move, Kardashian was filmed quickly scuttling deeper into the crowd to escape, accompanied by her entourage, who tried – unsuccessfully – to protect her bespoke Gucci gown with an umbrella. Maybe Hamilton hadn’t prepared her for such an eventuality, or maybe she’d thought he was joking, displaying the classic British “banter” we’re famed for; either way, the phrase “fish out of water” springs to mind.
But worse still was the moment Kim and her sister Khloe, also in attendance, committed the most unforgivable of F1 cardinal sins: they snubbed legendary British reporter and former driver Martin Brundle.
Brundle, who reports for Sky Sports, is beloved for his pre-race “walkabouts”, which see him stroll the grid looking for celebrities to briefly interview live on air. It’s become something of an institution in the sport, and most A-listers are game, no matter their level of fame or distinction: Wicked star Cynthia Erivo, Prince Salman of Bahrain and Jumanji actor Karen Gillan all obliged on Sunday, for example.
In an excruciating clip, he approached the Kardashian sisters on the grid with his usual chipper demeanour, asking if they were enjoying F1, only to be utterly ignored. At one point, one of their minders even appeared to manhandle Brundle – “You don’t need to push me, mate,” he can be heard saying – before the presenter admitted defeat. “So, Kim and Khloe – we won’t be talking to them today…”
The wrath from F1 fans was swift and savage on social media; Kardashian was branded “rude” and “arrogant”, and accused of displaying a “complete lack of class”.
“She has no place in our world,” wrote one disgruntled viewer.
In a separate viral clip, presenter Holly Willoughby and comedian Michael McIntyre were literally swept out of the way by the Kardashian entourage while mid-interview.
Part of the issue could well be that Kim is used to setting trends rather than following them. The world bends around her and her family, not the other way around: that’s what it means to be the OG influencer dynasty. But as everyone who’s ever embarked upon a new relationship knows, on your other half’s turf, you have to play by your other half’s rules.
Yes, the stakes may not be quite so high (nor the audience quite so hostile), but it’s essentially the equivalent of meeting your partner’s football mates for the first time and accepting that, in those circles, you’re referred to as “the missus” – without launching into a feminist diatribe about the inherent sexism of certain female monikers.
Sometimes you just have to put up going back to their family home, watching three hours of mind-numbing daytime quiz shows and letting their mum show you 3,000 baby pictures, all while smiling so enthusiastically your jaw hurts. Or coming up with a horrible fake laugh so that you can guffaw at your boss’s criminally awful jokes at the work Christmas do.
Their turf, their rules.
Of course, you don’t need to become an entirely different person to fit in – but it’s wose to have to learn to adapt, compromise and accommodate if we want our life and that of our beloved to be able to successfully overlap in the long-term. And that works both ways.
If Kim doesn’t learn that lesson – and fast – her first time on the grid could well be her last.