Rachel Zoe is famous — in certain circles — for many things, but transparency is not one of them. A celebrity fashion stylist, Ms. Zoe is known for her client list, which has included just about every pretty young thing in Hollywood — Lindsay Lohan, Mischa Barton, Keira Knightley, Joy Bryant, and, most auspiciously, Nicole Richie. Ms. Zoe is known for her fees, which can reportedly top $6,000 a day. And she is known for earning those fees by placing said starlets in a signature mix of Grecian dresses, sunglasses that might well be used after one’s pupils have been dilated, and heavy gold necklaces best complemented by a bony clavicle. (Ms. Zoe has been blamed by the celebrity press for the dramatic weight loss of some of her clients, particularly Ms. Lohan and Ms. Richie.)

So what is the secret to Ms. Zoe’s success? There may be one, but viewers should not look to Bravo’s “The Rachel Zoe Project,” the stick-figure stylist’s new reality show, for answers. The show, which makes its premiere tonight, chronicles the shopping excursions and sartorial dilemmas of Ms. Zoe’s career, and never seems sure whether to idolize or satirize the outlandish stylist. While the show may be a prescription for fashion junkies, giving them a practically pornographic spread of luxury labels, it fails to provide much insight into how exactly Ms. Zoe creates the red-carpet “wow” moment, as she calls it.

The first episode jockeys between two plotlines: Ms. Zoe’s efforts to dress Ms. Bryant for a red-carpet event, the Art of Elysium Ball, and the stylist’s initial forays into branding herself.

The first, really, is an ancillary plotline. The process of dressing Ms. Bryant, according to the show, consists of Ms. Zoe pulling two or three frocks off her rack, tossing them in the direction of Ms. Bryant, deciding against them, then repeating the process at a second fitting until Ms. Zoe proclaims that Ms. Bryant will “shut it down” in a red Zac Posen gown. The process is so distilled that it appears Ms. Zoe is providing no more assistance than might be offered by a competent salesclerk at Barneys, though he or she might not bestow such sartorial insights as “That’s bananas,” “I die,” or “You’re, like, actually making me cry in this dress — for real,” as Ms. Zoe is prone to do.

As for the second objective of the episode — Ms. Zoe’s branding — it is a study in self-promotion and network nepotism. Since this is a reality show, self-promotion is, of course, the name of the game. But “The Rachel Zoe Project” is particularly shameless in its efforts. Not only is the show devoted to chronicling Ms. Zoe’s efforts to launch a brand that will presumably be designed for her viewers and marketed to them in a timely fashion, coinciding either with the close of this season or the launch of the next, but it also includes a segment in which Ms. Zoe is seen consulting over the phone for her “Rachel Zoe picks” for the online shoe retailer Piperlime.com. “Apparently, my picks sell out in about an hour,” she says. So, evidently, does Ms. Zoe.

Ms. Zoe’s branding consultation, which takes place in New York, is paired with a trip to the showroom of designer Michael Kors. The segment is, ostensibly, for Ms. Zoe to search for dress options for Ms. Bryant, yet none of Mr. Kors’s designs ever appear on or near Ms. Bryant’s body. That Mr. Kors is a judge on Bravo’s other fashion-oriented show, “Project Runway,” on which Ms. Zoe appeared as a guest judge two weeks ago, is no coincidence.

This isn’t to say there aren’t plenty of entertaining tidbits. In addition to designer goods, Ms. Zoe’s world is populated by her longtime assistant stylist, the peroxide-blond Taylor (“Tay”), her husband and business manager, Rodger (“Rodg”), and her new secondary assistant, Marc (“Marc”).

The only dramatic tension on the show is supplied by Marc and Taylor. Marc, who has joined the Zoe team from Vogue and who favors clothing so preppy it often resembles — or, in fact, is — tennis whites, appears to be rather slow on the uptake and heavy on the chatting, which does nothing to coax Taylor out of her perpetual scowl. At one point Taylor turns to Marc while the two are working side by side in Ms. Zoe’s dressing room, which is essentially an oversize closet. “We aren’t going to talk,” Taylor says to Marc. “I’m going to e-mail you things.”

Taylor, with her grunge-inspired style and intolerance for laziness or disorder, may indeed be a bit scary. But she’s also effective, funny, and sharp. “Taylor thinks for me; she thinks before me,” Ms. Zoe says, in her most insightful comment of the entire episode. So, come to think of it, maybe “The Rachel Zoe Project” does, in fact, disclose a stylist’s secret to success: Hire a good assistant.