To this day, whenever I see any picture of Angie (or Angie and Brad, for that matter), I still have flashbacks of angry women yelling in my face.

I've come to think of it as Angie & Brad PTSD.

Sure, I can laugh about it now (kinda), but back then, it wasn't funny.

Those angry women were of a certain age and they were - to quote Kevin Lee, famous event planner, seen on Bravo's Real Housewives of Beverly Hills - chi chi. Yeah, they were fancy. They were also NOT fans of Tomb Raider or anyone who (at that time) was best known for jumping into a hotel pool while wearing a red carpet ready gown - the same night she'd been photographed kissing her brother passionately on the lips btw. Or how about that time she wore a vial of her then-husband's blood around her neck?  Or, the real deal breaker, the part where she was accused of taking Brad Pitt away from America's TV sitcom sweetheart Jen Aniston.

Getting back to those angry women...They wanted me to know just how much they hated Angie: hated how she dressed, all those tattoos, and, most of all, how she had most recently 'stolen' Brad from poor Jen. Being Team Jen myself, I could secretly sympathize, but I had to keep my mouth firmly shut. 

Make no mistake about it - I wasn't working as Angie's PA (That's Hollywood lingo for Personal Assistant.) or even as a nanny for Maddox. What I was doing was selling a line of formerly conservative but still high-end clothing that was currently trying hard to appeal to a younger, edgier demographic, a line that - Surprise! - Angie had just recently been named the celebrity spokesmodel for.

When I first found out, I got a dizzy, sick feeling. 

It didn't take a smartie pants know-it-all (That would be ME.) to realize this new development wasn't going to go over well with those ladies, the ones who never leave the house without their bright lipstick, matchy matchy outfits and control top pantyhose, the ones for whom this line had become a uniform. Ugh. 

Now, the line would be fronted by someone who had (in their eyes) roared in on a motorcycle, in full bad-girl, badass regalia. Three words - Lots of leather.

Quel nightmare.

I survived, but all the clothing I bought from said high-end clothing line is now garment-bagged and hanging in cedar closets in my basement. Can't bring myself to wear most of it.

And don't you dare talk to me about Maleficent— I still refuse to watch any and all movies featuring Angie.

It's just too soon. #Scarred4Life #WINK

*Photo Courtesy: Angie and Brad photo, from Vogue UK