Hello again! I hope you had wonderful Thanksgivings and gave thanks for family. After I whipped up an extensive culinary extravaganza, my husband ditched me with the kids and the dishes and headed out to eat pie in the hot tub! I mean that in the traditional Thanksgiving sense so if your mind’s in the gutter, get it out. I wasn’t feeling too thankful after that, to be sure. Anyhoo, it’s Monday, I’m over it, and I think it’s safe to say we are rounding things out with the Housewives of BH 9-er this month. Let’s hope for the best as we get to the explosive end of this season. Fa la la la la! As for what’s next, I suspect we’re starting the new year in Orange County? An awful lot of those hos in this week’s news roundup:
· Vicki Gunvalson’s daughter, Brianna, eloped to Vegas with a military guy who just got divorced in 2010. If there was ever a child from whom elopement could be expected, it’s Vicki Gunvalson’s daughter.
· Alexis Bellino got a nose job! Which totally bums me out because I have to say I liked her little beaker. I thought it suited her, like Jessica Simpson. The few photos on the internets aren’t too close up but the outcome looks a bit Jennifer Grey to me. Another photo of Alexis strapped into some Reynolds Wrap Alexis Couture frock made her look a bit poochy so some are speculating she’s knocked up, but with the recent nose surgery I think it more likely that Alexis ate a sandwich.
· With Peggy Tanous’ departure, the newest housewife is someone named Heather Dubrow, who before she married her plastic surgeon househusband was an actress by the name of Heather Paige Kent. She was on a whole bunch of crappy TV shows that I never saw. No Kim Richards, that’s for sure.
· Blind gossip sites are claiming that one of the housewives is dipping more than her toe in the lady pond, and another is having an affair so her househusband has rigged the marital residence with surveillance cameras. Speculate away…
With that, let’s get to it!
As the jaunty Housewives refrain begins, we find ourselves at the Chateau Pump where Mummy is arriving late, as she always is these days, in her signature constricting 80’s puff-sleeve top, this time in classic navy. She’s late because she has to lie down in the back seat in that getup, which makes it hard to reach the pedals. “Come quick, Mummy!” calls Pandy, The invitations are here! Seems they decided to rethink the box in a pale pink with sparkly jewels, and there are two here to behold which I will bet $5 are the only two actually produced in relation to this affair. I just don’t think Lisa Vanderpump is stupid enough to pay $15,000 for a bunch of feathery boxes. After the box viewing we retreat to the kitchen where Franck has caterers furiously chopping and garnishing in an effort to make this bit of product placement for Beverly Catering come off as a competitive bidding process. After being greeted by Caterer Ron, who reminds me distinctly of Ron, Demi Moore’s gay decorator in St. Elmo’s Fire (coincidence?) his behatted parolee barkeep gets to work whipping up a veritable cocktail circus using the vodka he infused himself, and I’d call a halt to things right there if I had the chance. There’s smoke, there’s furious stirring, there’s sorbet, and all Lisa really wanted was some of her personal vintage of Villa Blanca pink champagne. Somehow methinks we’re not going to see liquid nitrogen on the bar at the Pandora/Jason Moment of Bliss when we have Mummy’s Wine to promote instead. (And more on that later.)
Across the street, Adrienne’s meeting with the good people of Isaay about her shoe line. Did you see that Lalique vase in the display cabinet behind her head? I have that vase too! Anyway, we’re here to consider Adrienne’s vast collection of hooker heels in designing The Shoe that will be introduced during the holidays (how funny that this episode is being broadcast right…as we get into the holidays!), and it’s obviously going to be Hooker Inspired. Adrienne’s faves include a pair of taupe patent platform six-inch stilettos for day (I wear a lot of those, too), a pair of black suede booties with platforms and six-inch stilettos (perfect for running around in jeans), a pair of six-inch taupe satin platform peep-toe stilettos with bows on the toes that just shout “conservative” (i.e., call girl versus street walker), and finally a pair of six-inch platform peep-toe gold spanglers for nights out, or stripping. All this shoeing about is meant to result in a signature Adrienne Shoe, which will be unveiled at a fashion show that will somehow benefit Step Up, a nonprofit that serves young women with dreams of succeeding in business, the arts, and music, which seems like quite a challenging combination to me. But a noble cause nonetheless, sure to be a good time.
Meanwhile across town, oh God no we’re really going to the therapist with the Armstrongs. Jesus Christo El Hombre this is unbelievably awkward and I can’t think of anywhere I would less like to be right now. Curiously, the part of the therapist seems to be being played by Caterer Ron, who is also an osteopath. If you aren’t familiar with osteopathic medicine, it’s a parallel system of licensing to the traditional MD, but a DO has additional training in sort of integrative medicine and “osteopathic manipulative technique” in treating patients. I have encountered a few DOs in my time, but not one who’s in the mental health field, although why not, I guess? Anyway, the purpose of the Armstrongs’ therapy is either to (a) help them do “everything” they can to be together, or (b) in the alternative, help them figure out “how not to be together in the most successful way”. Well, Taylor, I don’t think deciding not to be together and then going to People magazine to tell the whole world how awful your husband has been to you is not being together in the most successful way, but I guess that’s what happens when you get therapy from a moonlighting caterer who was previously an interior decorator in a movie. We all know how this turns out, so enough of that, thank you.
Because of this incredibly awkward therapy session, Tay conveniently bails on the mani appointment she set up for herself, Kyle, and Brandi. So now Kyle and The Glands have to go alone. This could be awkward, but Kyle’s got her big girl britches on and is trying to be nice to the Glands, who’s had a sad run of it, really. As she explains to Kyle, she and Mr. LeAnn Rimes had been together 13 years (married 8) before he ran off with Mrs. LeAnn while they were filming a Lifetime Movie, a detour Kyle quite rightly decrees “gross”. Brandi is empathetic to her mortal enemy Kim and the struggles of moving, because she knows that moving is depressing. But Brandi is trying to get to a good place, and the séance was a good start because it was fun! So what should they do next? Brandi has a friend with a big Malibu beach house and with that foot of hers she can’t do much, so naturally she thinks it would be even more fun than a séance to have a porn star come out and teach them all how to give Fellatio to Horatio. It would be so fun, and cute! This does not sound like fun or cuteness to Kyle, who furthermore hopes they all know how already. Maybe something a little more classy, she suggests? OK then, says Brandi, maybe just a dinner where we all give each other a chance with no BS. Oh Mylanta. Famous last words, housewife.