Ragan Fox was one of the stars of Big Brother 12. He is a super fan of The Real Housewives franchise, and loves every iteration of the series, even DC. Now that is brand loyalty. His Housewives blogs are not suitable for children. Or adults.
Cindy Barshop is quickly becoming my favorite NYC housewife because she’s the only chick in that henhouse who seems genuine. All the other ladies have become caricatures of themselves. In this entry, I’ll pull from the latest episode of NYC to highlight the REAL contrivances of The Real Housewives of New York.
Kelly KILLoren Bensimon
Is it just me or does Kelly (above) look like the three-tittied prostitute in Total Recall (see below)?
Kelly is, perhaps, the most contrived person in the cast. She constantly brags that she’s a salt-of-the earth girl who drives a pickup truck. She loves to talk about driving a pickup truck. She drops the pickup truck into bits of conversation that have nothing to do with driving, like, “I’m going to Fashion Week, and I drive a pickup truck.” I love how Kelly thinks driving a pickup makes her edgy. Rich people seem to think performing middle class showcases their eccentricity. Words like “toaster” and “Clorox” are foreign to them. Remember when Paris Hilton thought that Walmart sold WALLS?
Kelly’s a jack-in-the-box of bullshit. Wind her up in a conversation and watch her pop up with unbelievable, hilarious statements. In the midst of shoveling gummy bears in her mouth, she claimed that she “ONLY eats organic food.” She once said that, “PETA isn’t against fur, they’re against cruelty to animals.” On another occasion, she showed up to an event wearing little more than a baby’s bib and then cackled, “I can’t believe I’m dressed sexy. Can YOU believe it?! When do I EVER dress sexy?” Kelly, production regularly has to pixelate your labia, and the hem of your skirt usually hovers right above your nipples; so, to answer your question, you ALWAYS wear too little.
Last night’s episode featured KILLoren Bensimon in all her contrived glory. She attended a speed dating event and pretended to listen to a 23-year-old boy talk about his education.
“Where do you go to school,” she inquired.
“Oh!” she squealed. “You’re a dancer.”
“I’m an actor.”
Kelly replied, “What instrument do you play?”
Add another coal to the fire, KILLoren, ‘cuz you’re on fire.
Alex’s fake-ass persona was on full display at her outdoor, pre-winter birthday, where, despite her repeated suggestions that this was the best birthday EEEEEVVVVVVEEEERRRR, guests were clearly shivering in FRIGID weather. On the subject of birthdays, if Alex McCord says that she’s in her thirties one more time, I’m going to fly to NYC and slap her. Alex McCord is a LOT of things, including married to a gay man, the world’s most beautiful model, a fashion ICON, and owner of the planet’s most pronounced eye socket bones; but she is NOT in her 30s. I am in my thirties; Alex McCord is The Mummy Returns.
Let’s play a picture game. Three of the following six photos are of Alex McCord modeling. Can you tell me which three are Alex and which ones are Medusa, Cruella Deville, and a dog that was attacked by a porcupine:
I wish the countess would get off her f’ing high horse. Every “darling” and manufactured sigh of exasperation underscores her phoniness. Did she really need to clutch pearls when discussing hair removal? “Waxing isn’t porn,” a befuddled Cindy rightfully pointed out. The countess is at her best when she throws caution to the wind and delivers catty one-liners, like the upcoming, “Alex, you arrived to the party in your Herman Munster shoes.” She’s at her worst when she self-edits. Let the following video be a lesson: Excessive self-censoring makes a count (or countess) look like he or she’s up to no good, even in the most innocent of interactions.
The above song is certainly better than this piece of CONTRIVED crap:
LuAnn should START with counting and WORK HER WAY UP to singing poop. I mean, “pop.”
I love how producers repeatedly flashed back to Ramona’s Brooklyn Fashion Week catwalk annihilation.
As much as I’d love to rip on Ramonaphobia’s fakeness, I can’t. I may think she’s an insufferable homophobe; but, for better or worse, she’s unapologetically herself. Perhaps Ramona could use a little contrivance in her life. Even when Ramona offers compliments, she manages to dig her blood-drenched talons into a fellow housewife. Take, for instance, the way she greeted Alex donning what can only be described as a full-on hair disaster. “I LOVE your dress,” Ramonaphobia cooed. “And your makeup. Oh, and your shoes. Your SKIN looks GREAT. So does your jewelry, your manicure, and your purse.” Mind you, she delivered these compliments while looking directly at the rat’s nest sitting atop Alex’s head. That’s right! EVERY BIT OF ALEX was complimented with the exception of her f#%ked-up hair. Ramona has a PhD in the art of hidden putdowns.
Before I forget, please tell me you noticed the unintentional humor of the following line that was spoken without a HINT of irony : “It seems just like yesterday I was entering my LAST year of college to get my TWO-YEAR degree.”
Sonja’s over-active listening at Ramonaphobia’s gala was priceless. I love how she had something to say after EACH SENTENCE uttered in Ramona’s speech. Take, for example, the following dialogue that isn’t really a dialogue because Ramona is ON STAGE and nowhere near earshot of Sonja:
Ramona: (onstage) Directly after college, I really wasn’t ready to enter the workforce.
Sonja: (from the audience) After 2 years, you’re not ready.
Ramona: (onstage) I knew I would have my own business one day.
Sonja: (from the audience) This is HER night. People don’t understand. (Sonja gulps down a half-glass of white wine.)
Ramona: (onstage) I didn’t want to work for anyone anymore.
Sonja: (from the audience) She’s a SMART COOKIE!!!
Ramona: (onstage) I didn’t want a limit on the income I could make.
Sonja: (from the audience) That’s everything.
Ramona: (onstage) I felt like I had no choice but to seize this opportunity.
Sonja: (from the audience) It’s a hard fight.
Cindy: (sitting next to Sonja in the audience) What is a hard fight?
Sonja: (from the audience) It’s a hard fight.
Cindy: (sitting next to Sonja in the audience) WHAT?
Note: The above, um, dialogue(?) wasn’t manipulated for comedic purposes. I simply transcribed the scene.
Jill Zarin was absent from this episode, so I’m letting her off the hook. She picked a good week to go to Australia. Lucky gal. But don’t fret; next week, I’ll get Jill and her little dog, too.
Last night’s episode was a testament to the show’s strength. Last season was all about Jill and Bethenny. Last night, neither Jill nor Bethenny were on the show and the episode was hilarious and captivating. Bravo (so to speak) to good storytelling and a production team that knows how to keep the LOLs rolling.