Beverly Hills Nannies Ariane Bellamar Cameos On Hotel Hell Season One Episode Four
August 28, 2012 by Hollywoodite
Ariane “Ari” Bellamar is one of the breakout cast members of reality show Beverly Hills Nannies on which the contrived drama fills the hours she’s not staging “candid” paparazzi photos to raise her profile. She recently married real estate millionaire Barry Pettitt, with whom she has a three-year-old daughter, Emma, babysat by lingerie model Amber Valdez until Valdez was “fired” for the purpose of the show.
Bellamar’s bios are hilarious. Reportedly, Bellamar claims to be “28-years-old” in which case, although she’s pretty, she’s the oldest-looking 28-year-old ever. In all likelihood, she’s been lying about her age for a while. She is probably what she looks like: well-preserved for her mid-40s. Her Facebook has that infamous Marilyn Monroe quote that’s taken as permission for bitchy girls to get away with bad behaviour: “I’m Selfish, Impatient and a Little Insecure. I Make Mistakes, I’m Out of Control and at Times Hard to Handle. But If You Can’t Handle Me at My Worst, Then You Sure as Hell Don’t Deserve Me at My Best.” And this is her Twitter bio: “Well Behaved Women Rarely Make History xo”
Seeming to admit the scripted nature of Beverly Hills Nannies, as though there were any doubt it’s completely fake, her official website bio says the Canadian works as a “Playboy Bunny and actress starring in ABC Family’s Beverly Hills Nannies.”
In this week’s episode of Gordon Ramsay’s Kitchen Nightmares spin-off Hotel Hell, Bellamar makes two cameos. Scripted, obvious, self-promoting, badly-acted cameos.
During the opening of Hotel Hell season one episode four, Bellamar is sitting with her husband in The Merk bistro of San Diego, CA’s Ferrari-inspired The Keating Hotel where she’s complaining about the poor food quality. “The food is horrible,” she says, “absolutely horrible.” In the second cameo, she comes down from her (nearly $800-a-night) room to the front desk to complain that room service is taking too long; 45-minutes for a $16.99 stingy cheese board about which she phoned three times. “Cheese plate? We’ve been waiting for 45-minutes,” she complains, “If it’s not up in 10-minutes, just cancel it ’cause we’re going to dinner, okay?”
