We recently asked Katie Rees for an interview so that we could hear her side of the story regarding the scandalous photos that resulted in the loss of her title as Miss Nevada.
Katie graciously agreed to speak with us by phone and during the course of our initial conversation, we suggested that maybe she’d rather write a blog post so that she could share her experience in her own words.
Again, Katie graciously agreed to our request and sent us part one of her story to use in our inaugural post. This is a Katie Rees Blog exclusive that you won’t find anywhere else
A Picture Speaks A Thousand Words
It’s June 2004 and I’m out with my friends. It’s a night like many other 19 year-olds have had. We’re in a bar, there’s drinking going on, it’s getting late and one of my friends has just had a breast enhancement. Not typical? Yeah, right.
The thing about boob jobs is that the boobs are like a pair of really expensive shoes that you want everyone to notice. Or they are like some prototype you show to other women who are thinking about getting some new ones. They are not this sexy little secret anymore; they are accessories. This has significance.
For what it’s worth, mine are real.
One of our friends wants to be a photographer. I use the word ‘photographer’ loosely here because without the subject matter his pictures suck. He brings the camera everywhere. And he starts taking pictures just like he always has. We are goofing off, posing in ways we wouldn’t want our parents to see, doing things we wouldn’t do off camera, not even thinking about it, and I’m not going to remember it. In our teen-aged brains we are not weighing consequences, grasping the big picture, seeing our futures, or calculating our steps…
If you could go back four years, what would you change?
Fast forward to early October 2006. I’ve moved on. I’ve grown up a lot. I’m Miss Nevada. I’ve worked hard for this. Things are great. I’m going to charity events. I’m making appearances. I’m a beauty queen.
Two months later it’s December and Tara Conner, reigning Miss USA, is tearfully thanking Donald Trump and the Miss Universe Organization for giving her a second chance. She has been drinking under age, doing illegal drugs, and was seen making out with Miss Teen USA, who is also named Katie. Tara admits she has an addiction, goes to rehab, and keeps her crown.
Days later, December 21st to be exact, a phone call informs me that there are pictures of me on the Internet—not the ones in my Photobucket account and not the ones on the Miss Nevada website. They are pictures from June 2004 of me with my friends and they are something we wouldn’t want our parents to see. Now the whole world can see.
I look at the pictures. Glimpses of the evening begin flooding back to me. There I am, over three years ago—a lifetime ago—being stupid.
This guy who took these pictures was my friend. He ate dinner in my home with my parents.
How much are your friends worth?
Reporters are camping on my parents’ lawn now. The phone is ringing and ringing and RINGING. It’s four days before Christmas and my world is imploding.
Somebody do something. God.
I am in the home I grew up in with my parents. I can’t go outside. I can’t answer the phone. I am paralyzed.
My parents call my attorney. He sends out a press release. There’s a mistake. It says I was 17. I see myself on television with black boxes, stars, and other shapes covering what isn’t appropriate. For America.
I have lost my crown.
What? Wait a minute. Where’s my second chance? Where’s my comeback? WTF? That was over three years ago. I didn’t kiss Miss Teen USA. Why hasn’t Donald Trump called me? Don’t I get to explain?
My attorney and agent organize a press conference. It is two days before Christmas. My parents are by my side and my grandparents are watching. I am wearing a new suit. The room is filled with reporters, cameras, and lights. I say what I have practiced a million times in my head. They are waiting to eat me alive.
When I am done with my statement, I stop before I leave the room and let them photograph me. I hear a reporter make the remark “she should have cried”.
I felt like crying, you asshole.
Diane Sawyer, Larry King, “Extra”, “Inside Edition”, Dr.Keith Ablow (who is he?), Montel Williams, Dr. Phil, and lots of others want to talk to me. I speak to no one. Who can I talk to?
It’s after Christmas and I get confirmation. Donald Trump’s lawyer says it’s a done deal. There’s a new Miss Nevada in town.
I had spoken publicly to no one since I have declared to grant interviews only after I hear from Donald Trump (or his people) that I have lost my crown. “Extra” reports that he will wait until after the New Year to make his decision. He is on vacation. We are all confused. “Extra” confirms the quote. Trump’s attorney says he’ll have to get back with us. We wait some more. It was supposed to be over already.
My agent, who has known me for sixteen years, pours through the requests and offers. He talks to dozens of producers, radio hosts, club promoters, and the press.
The producer for “Inside Edition” says Deborah Norville is a friend of Donald Trump and she will call him during the interview to help plead my case. It also turns out that my agent’s partner represented Deborah during the years she was getting started.
It seems like a good choice for my first interview. She will be fair. This is what I want.
To be continued… My “Inside” ExperienceFiled under: Daily