Mob Wives Chicago: Class or Trash?

Having caught on to Mob Wives midway through last season I decided this is the type of “wives” reality show I could get into. With characters like the dramatic Renee Graziano (she has lizard eyes!), the scrappy Drita D’Avanzo and the female “Baby Huey” Karen Gravano (my opinion only), I got sucked in instantly and have been watching ever since. So when I heard about the new spinoff, Mob Wives: Chicago, I knew I wanted to watch this one from the get-go and was eager to see if the new cast could live up to the original cast.

After Season 1, Episode 1, here are my thoughts:

The ladies claim they are all about “class” but we are seeing anything BUT. Drowning in furs and in what I can only imagine is cheap over-bearing perfume, they look beat up, tired, and definitely past their expiration date.

Renee Russo Fecarotta starts the show off by saying, “People say I’m a judgmental bitch, but I’m about class, respect and loyalty.” We can tell in that plunging top you are rocking, it reeks class. And what’s that? Your baby daddy is a murderer doing a life sentence? Even classier. But Renee does have some standards, she’s not on “the pole” like another cast mate. I will give her that.

Nora, who I think is the varmint of the bunch, also begins her story, yapping about how classy her family is/was. “We had so much class, I was drinking Dom Pérignon when I was 5.” Is this chick busted or what? Maybe I should be happy that she hasn’t injected her face to the point of looking like a frozen faced rodent. And can we talk about those thigh-high boots she wears?! Oozing class. (The Beastie Boys tune Boomin’ Granny is suddenly on repeat in my head.)

Then there’s Pia Rizza who never mentions class. Maybe that’s because her dad was a crooked cop/rat and she’s a stripper at, like, 50 -years-old. “I work hard. What I do as a living is not what defines me as a person,” she tries to convince us. Kinda hard to take her seriously when I’m waiting for her to bust out with Dude Looks Like a Lady. She DOES look like Steven Tyler…with the overbite of Jeff Goldblum.

Christina reminds me of Karen of the O.G. Mob Wives. Chubby and bossy, but on the flipside, she seems to be the most “real” to me. An actual housewife who has divorced her husband but they still live together as a family for the sake of their 9-year-old daughter. Weird, yes, but in a way you have to commend their commitment to their child. Of course she’s just as psycho as the rest of them though. Just add tequila.

As we are learning more about the cast of characters we are also seeing a fight brewing between Pia and Nora after a Pia hears Nora called her a whore. Apparently Nora is the boozer of the group and says stupid crap when she’s wasted. You know what that means, the producers will probably keep the alcohol flowing this season.

Finally we are introduced to the big daddy of the group, Leah Desimone. You know right away she is the bad-bitch-alpha-male of the group.  She’s into guys that are “fat asses,” probably because she’s better hung than they are. I dunno. But what I do know is that whatever lucky sap lands this trophy wife will get an extra added bonus of her hillbilly dad as a roomie. Dude, score!

So now that we’re introduced to everyone, Nora invites Renee, Pia and Christine for drinks and a girls night out on the town. You know the piss and vinegar is going to fly right along with the booze.

Pia is livid that Nora might have called her a slut but is waiting to get drunk enough to confront her about it. Shots, please!

Christine asks Nora about her father being a hitman. Apparently that’s the one thing you don’t ask crazy-eyes Nora. Tensions rise and Nora says that only pussies ask that question and denies that her father ever murdered anyone. The women cool off by doing another round of shots, but that only temporarily calms the room.

It’s during this situation that I realize Renee is the sanest one of the bunch. She is nervously trying to keep the peace and isn’t interested in making a big scene in a public place. Nora then gushes over Christine’s shoes, kissing her ass to show she’s cool with her again, and the ladies (for lack of a better term) start talking about wearing “hooker shoes”. This is where the alcohol kicks in again and Nora says nonchalantly, “I’m gonna be like Pia tonight.”

Pia, now drunk enough to confront what’s really been bugging her, slurs, “Listen, I have to address something,” and all eyes are on her. She tells Nora her cousin said Nora called her a whore. Nora denies it but behind the scenes all the women agree that Pia is a whore so no one is really shocked – except Pia the whore.

Nora and Pia decide to bury the whore hatchet but Christine, Pia’s BFF, keeps the steam rolling, taking more stabs at Nora. Pia asks her to stop but Christine freaks out saying she should never have been brought into the conversation if Pia didn’t want her opinion.

Pia is full-on smashed now, the shots of tequila taking over, and she goes banshee on her supposed BFF. “I don’t think you’re my friend!” she screams at the top of her lungs, fingers pointing and spit flying. If you look closely, all the people in the lounge are like, “WTF?! No one told us granny wrestling was the entertainment tonight!”

Nora tries to break up the melee but then Christine, the junkyard dog, throws her drink at Pia, douching Nora instead. Then the BFF’s go at it, Jerry Springer style in the fancy highrise cocktail lounge. Classy.

Christine and Pia both latch onto one another’s hair, trying to rip it straight from it’s roots. Christine is throwing blows and is getting the best of Pia. But when it’s all said and done, it’s those Steven Tyler lips that keep flapping. What else do you expect from a 50-year-old stripper?

The whole time I was watching this show I was thinking, ‘Am I watching Bad Girls Club, or …?’ I think it should be Bad Old Broads Club: Chicago, not Mob Wives. Even those crazy O.G. mob bitches have more class than this group of women. But will I be watching again? You bet. I likey crazy…and trainwrecks sometimes make the best shitty reality shows. (And yes, there is such a thing.)