|Newcomer to the OC cast, Heather Dubrow teaches us that Real Housewives come in all shapes and hair colors. Also, that you don't fuck with a bitch's cake.|
In the last episode, which was one of the few that I had watched, Heather decides to have her name legally changed from Heather Something to 'Heather Dubrow'. So basically it was just an excuse to host a party at her insanely large and overly kitschy mansion that could house the population of a small Midwestern village. She looked fantastic for a woman that's had the minimal amount of surgery that is required to be an official resident of the OC, and her husband Terry Dubrow, MD looked pretty fabulous too, except for the pink leisure shirt and neon pocket square.
é regarding the boyfriend du jour. Apparently, Brooks the weirdo with no teeth and a George Bush accent is a con artist who left his wife and litter of children somewhere in the Bible belt to move to the OC with nothing but a slew of lies to string along the most willing and desperate housewife he can find.
So if this has taught me anything, it's that brunettes win in life. Also, not to have a melted face. Vicki's first season catchphrase was 'I don't want to get old', to which America has collectively answered - 'Too bad, and too late'. The OC Housewives have become the second most endearing incarnation in the franchise since the housewives of Atlanta, and there's a reason for that. They were the original television gold-diggers, backstabbers, superficial barbie-esque man-trap cats in heat, and I for one cannot get enough of them. Here's to my bleach-blonde, sun-soaked, sylicon-boobed future. May it be as fabulous as it looks on TV.
Below, Vicki gets mad. There's one of those moments every episode. In case you're wondering, the outfits are because of an 80's party. The most original thing I've ever heard of in my life.