Meanwhile, she upgraded her exterior. “In my mind, I’ve always been fabulous,” she says. She’d long planned to be fabulous on the outside too. She’d grown up, as she puts it, “a fatty A-cup,” which wouldn’t do. “I want more. I want it bigger. I want it Wendy,” she says. (If she were a guy, Wendy figures, she’d have been a drag queen.) When she first got implants, she bounced excitedly up to her oldest friend Lisa. Lisa is naturally endowed. “Dammit, I need them bigger,” Lisa remembers her saying. She’s got D-cups now, though she wears a smaller bra for what she calls the “muffin breast” look, spillage over the edges. Wendy had liposuction, too. She was sick of fighting chunkiness, even if it was celebrated. (On one song Tupac Shakur said of Wendy, “I’ll put Jenny Craig on your fat ass . . . Why you always wearing spandex?”) While Wendy was at it, she rid herself of other excesses, like her first husband. She didn’t talk it out with him. Wendy was the woman with a plan—“to the nth degree,” as her sister says. After he left for work, she divided up their possessions and hired two moving vans and a locksmith. He’d figure it out. For Wendy, everything was going well, and then in a moment it changed. In 1998, Hot 97 ignominiously booted her. There were reports that Wendy had been in a fistfight with another female D.J. (untrue, says Wendy). Certainly she had energized enemies. “Did Puffy have a hand in it? It is my belief,” she says. At Hot 97, Wendy liked to insinuate that certain rappers, despite their macho posturings, were gay. (Now she’s more subtle. Say a celebrity’s name. Then ask “How you doin’?” in a low, seductive voice. That’s the code.) Puffy was among those who came in for some innuendo. (So had Tupac.) “Oh, yes, I was left on the side of the turnpike for roadkill,” she says. Wendy has no illusions about human nature. Most people, seeing a wreck, hold up their camera phone. “People rolled right past me, and I understood that,” Wendy says. She limped out of New York and took a part-time assignment with Power 99 in Philadelphia. “I had no idea really what they did there,” she says. They knew her, though, which was not an advantage. Most (70 percent, according to one survey) hated her. Wendy has never minded being hated—a caller could say, as one did, “You look like a dude.” Wendy retorted, “But you’re listening.” Once they listened, Wendy had a knack for connecting. She offered up herself to her audience, shared every personal detail. By the time she left, listeners had cried with her through two miscarriages and the birth of a child. By 2001, she’d helped Power 99 move from fourteenth to second place with 18-to-34-year-olds, and WBLS offered Wendy a chance to return to New York. “I have arrived,” said Williams, showing me a diamond-encrusted ring as big as a radish. “I’m beyond the velvet rope.” Wendy and Kevin, her second husband, scheduled a little business meeting. Kevin is a big, forceful man with a shaved head and a bunch of tattoos. Tom and Shirley had hoped for a college-educated fellow, a Carlton Banks type in khakis. Kevin had owned a hair salon, promoted parties. He wears to-the-knee basketball shorts; sometimes he addresses Wendy as Yo. But when he met Wendy, Kevin was, as a friend put it, “still hungry. He wanted to climb, to make it,” just like Wendy. He became Wendy’s manager. About New York, though, Kevin hesitated. Philadelphia had been good to them. “We’re fine right here,” said Kevin. Wendy was earning $275,000 annually; she wanted more. “I’m ready to give New York another shot,” she said. At WBLS on Park Avenue South, Wendy’s studio is as glamorous as the inside of a UPS truck. The ceiling is low, the carpet stained, the plants fake. Wendy has a view of the East River, though she doesn’t look at it much. She focuses on her audience, the one she’s assembled in the studio: four black college girls who work as interns. “Muses,” explains Wendy’s executive producer, Artie Evans, a former intern himself. They run for coffee and, sometimes, for Wendy’s hair clips, but mainly they stand in a clump against a wall. “When I look at you, give me a yay or a nay,” Wendy advises one intern. She wants to hear them—an oooh or a laugh, though not too much. Artie recalls his first attempt to talk to Wendy. “How are you?” he’d asked. Wendy rolled her eyes. “I don’t need no fucking mood check,” she told him. And so Artie has considerately issued guidelines to the interns. Don’t speak to Wendy unless spoken to. Don’t stare at Wendy when she’s on the mike, which makes her uncomfortable. In fact, don’t look Wendy in the eyes unless she looks at you.
Wendy Williams’s ring is worth approximately $13,000. She had a 3 carat ring, to which a 7 carat stone and two bands were added. More info Regarding Wendy Williams Ring you can visit weddingringreviews.com/wendy-williams-wedding-ring
Wendy Williams is known as a powerful woman with a net worth of $60 million and it takes a strong man to stand behind her. So, who is the man with the confidence to be married to the amazing Ms. Williams? Kevin Hunter. Wendy Williams and her husband have been married since 1997, standing the test of Hollywood together. The couple has one teenage son together, who they named after dad Kevin. Read on for the facts on the couple, a cheating past and all about Hunter below.
For Wendy, everything was going well, and then in a moment it changed. In 1998, Hot 97 ignominiously booted her. There were reports that Wendy had been in a fistfight with another female D.J. (untrue, says Wendy). Certainly she had energized enemies.
Wendy and Kevin, her second husband, scheduled a little business meeting. Kevin is a big, forceful man with a shaved head and a bunch of tattoos. Tom and Shirley had hoped for a college-educated fellow, a Carlton Banks type in khakis. Kevin had owned a hair salon, promoted parties. He wears to-the-knee basketball shorts; sometimes he addresses Wendy as Yo. But when he met Wendy, Kevin was, as a friend put it,
At WBLS on Park Avenue South, Wendy’s studio is as glamorous as the inside of a UPS truck. The ceiling is low, the carpet stained, the plants fake. Wendy has a view of the East River, though she doesn’t look at it much. She focuses on her audience, the one she’s assembled in the studio: four black college girls who work as interns.
According to Wendy Williams, she found husband Hunter cheating in 2001, just after the birth of their son. She told Essence that when she was younger, she would have never stuck by a man who cheated on her. She stated:
I love Wenxy Williams, she seemed to me to be a strong woman who gave out great advice for a woman you say is controlled by her husband. If its true thats sad, none of us women need to be told what,when,and where by any man what so ever. Still love you Wendy. Our funny too.
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