Sunday, November 27, 2011

Real Housewives of Beverly Hills: Women Sprinting Backwards

'Hahahaha, I love having enough miniature dogs and diamonds to distract from my problems. Now i'm happy or at least because of the botox, I look like it.'
The reality brew made from satan's asshole fomented through the fiery depths of hell with children tears and puppy blood that is known casually to us as The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills has quickly blossomed from 'wouldn't it be funny if they...' to 'i did not know the world was so cruel as to...'. Trophy wives a plenty, and armed with a teacup toy dogs, syringes filled with botulism, and endless cutaways of large made up eyes starting intently, The Bravo network reached a new low this past year by deciding to air the highly anticipated second season of said show in light of one of the housewive's husbands suddenly and rather dramatically taking his own life. 
This is not a joke, and hasn't been for quite some time. Bravo took a couple of steps back to retrace itself and the choices that they made considering no one could deny that they had a hand in the reason behind Russell Armstrong's suicide, Taylor Armstrong's seemingly creepy and seemingly passive/aggressively overbearing hedge fund CEO husband whom she consistently ignored and passed off in the first season. As Season 2 unveils we're finding out now, he was aggressive/aggressive, and downright evil. And yet, the show still manages to focus on Taylor's wasteful shopping sprees and penchant for cosmetic fillers.
I loath myself for many reasons that are usually interchangeable, but none so constant as my fucking fascination with this show. Every Monday night I run home from work make sure all of the doors are locked and turn on Channel 48 awaiting what sort of narcissistically driven shenanigans that the 6 lead female 'stars' are getting into. And lately, they've been getting into some serious shit.
The current economy has managed to tap even the most comfortable of the 1%, and subsequently unraveled a few close relationships considering how much a lot of them base their entire happiness on money. I know it's a bit trite to say that money doesn't buy happiness and how dare they be so obsessed with materialistic elements in their lives, but once that episode about the 25,000$ sunglasses aired, I was so appalled, that it made me want to spend time writing strongly-worded letters to Bravo detailing what they could do with them. To be fair, it wasn't a member of the main cast who made such a grounded and reasonable decision in her life as to spend the price of college tuition on a facial accessory, but still.
All of the women that we started out condescendingly laughing at have somehow elbowed their way into our hearts and planted diamond encrusted seeds of self-doubt, and adult on-set cattiness inside our beings.
Let's take each one and analyze her based on what she has to offer to filth, considering how much cleavage, platform shoes, and tinsel hair each adorn in a manic and desperate attempt at attention from the opposite sex and now a national audience.
As seemingly slutty, it's ironic to consider that most of these girls (excuse me, fine upstanding women) are actually some of the biggest prudes imaginable. The pack leader, British entrepreneur Lisa stated in the first episode that she allows her husband to get his only on Christmas and birthdays, and it's his birthday not hers which is another day off for her. Pretty much since episode 1, rumors continue to fly about how little sex all of the housewives are having considering how shamelessly they dress and how vapid their behavior can be. The sex lives of the 6 have become a major fixation in the show, because I think we are all fascinated by the idea of engaging in intercourse with someone virtually comprised of plastic.
Nearly all of the women have a problem with the word 'cock' and yet can prance around like no one notices that they've just spent the better part of an afternoon using costume latches and double sided tape to glue their breasts together.
The show is divided into two different attitudes of women. there are the three who have happy marriage, wear the pants, and garner respect. They are also, the most esteemed not only within their own group, but from the viewers as well.
The other side of the fence, is divorcing, divorced, and divorced-for-years-now women who have enough personal problems and hair extensions to fill up two season of Laguna Beach. They are the downtrodden that the community of Beverly Hills that once seemed to aggrandize them has now turned their back on, and they are subsequently fighting for their lives and more importantly stature since their very public lives have been unraveling in front of a national TV audience.
This kitschy and somewhat ridiculous show has quickly evolved into a nightime soap opera unscripted fiasco, with scenarios you wouldn't ever conceive to write for Dynasty. I can't even find the camp retribution in this show, though I, with futility, continue to search for it.
Watching this show is like re-living every awkward, uncomfortable, and cringe-worthy moment of your adolescents that you are so glad to have left behind in your adult life. Alas, the Bravo network decided to let you experience it over and over again, and remind you that no matter how old you get, petty bullshit, catty behavior, and constant competition over wealth and status will follow you for the rest of your lives, at least, if you live in Beverly Hills. Then it cuts to commercial break and you're thinking how there's two wars and a depression going on right now and yet they live in a mascara soaked world where apparently no one is aware of that. It's kind of infuriating. There's being fabulous, and then there's being ridiculous, and that's a fine line the wives are teetering with.
My advice, do not get sucked in to the mindfuck of a show because it will destroy your sense of perceptive reality and self. Next to it, the controversial Sister Wives seems more tame. Take it from someone who is now in the throws of terminal RHOBV addiction and needs some serious rehab - books and carbs. But while we're on the subject, for those of you who abstain, here is a rundown of the 6 harriet housewives who have never in their lives done any actual housework or anything else that would merit that title.

Her royal highness, British import Lisa Vanderpump is a former music video actress who made it big in Beverly Hills after opening celebrity magnet restaurants Villa Blanca and Sur. It's kind of unfair to call her a housewife considering she works, and works quite a lot, but the show would not be much without her. Seen here with her infamous toy-toy-toy pomeranian Giggy that she dresses up in rhinestones and crushed velvet like Austin Powers, as rich as she is (and she's pretty fucking rich) she's actually one of the more likable and personable of the clan. She's definitely the mother hen, and despite her British snark, has a big and compassionate heart. 
On the other side of the spectrum we have one of the most consistently hated housewives on the show, even after the untimely and tragic suicide of her husband; Taylor Armstrong. An emotional wreck hiding behind a decomposing facade of wealth and materialism, the cracks in her mentality (if not her face) have been showing since day 1. Currently, her personal trauma has become the first priority on the show, showcasing and shamelessly exploiting the drama that led up to her personal tragedy. She's definitely one of those that grew up thinking that what you can buy measures how much happiness you will have, famously saying 'you can accomplish the dream, you can live in Beverly Hills too'. Thanks but no thanks. 
So this is Camille Grammer (former wife of Kelsey Grammer) they have since divorced due to Kelsey's infidelities, but she's decided to keep her...stage name? I don't know what else you'd call it. It seems like she was the Eliza Doolittle of Kelsey's contemporary Pygmalion experiment. With work that includes dance music videos from the early 90's and soft-core porn, this human being has gradually won more affection because of her divorce. But honestly sometimes it's hard to see past all of that fake boob to the person that's hiding inside. But to her credit, she has amazing fake boobs. 
Adrienne Maloof is another working housewife and the primary breadwinner in her household. (This is the one with tinsel in her hair just in case you're wondering). Even though she's married to a plastic surgeon (no really, it's true), she's the one who makes a living worthy of an opulent lifestyle. She's an heiress to the Maloof fortune which owns the Palms casino in Las Vegas and the Sacramento Kings just to name a few. Despite her ridiculous fortune she's also one of the more likable women on the show and definitely has the clearest head on her shoulders, even though it's weighed down by excessive amounts of botox.
Just when you thought there couldn't be more leathery blondes...there are. Kim Richards might look familiar to you, at least she thinks you'll remember her as a child actress from the 70's, but no one really does. She's also the crazy aunt of Paris Hilton just FYI, and has gotten into quite a bit of trouble over being drunk in public as of late. Also, due to a steady cocktail of psychiatric drugs she's taking, she's rarely coherent and more or less forgettable. She's just too easy of a target, and is able to make fun of herself more creatively than I ever will, so moving on. 
Younger sister to the above, and the one with probably the most stable marriage and family life, Kyle Richards is the youngest of the group. She also had an acting career for like 5 minutes before settling down with John Turturro doppleganger Beverly Hills real estate agent and fixations of RHOBV fans Mauricio Umansky. She's not bad, she can be a catty bitch and it's annoying, but for the most part she's the one that viewers tend to identify with the most because she's able to acknowledge each ridiculous situation as ridiculous and at least dresses her age, which is more than I can say for any of the above (with a tentative exception for Lisa). 
Mercifully, that's the end. 

No comments: