In my group chats with other culture writers who happen to be Bravo obsessives, I have long entertained conspiracy theories about how one of the underappreciated themes that ties together all of the Housewives shows and their spinoffs is not just misogyny, patriarchy, and gender performance, but also long-simmering queer narratives. To wit, this is an actual text I sent to Paper magazine’s inimitable Joan Summers in November, after a particularly trying episode of Potomac: “Jacqueline does add layers to my running ‘the engine that keeps housewives afloat is a bunch of queer women suffering from comphet’ canon I have been slowly building.”
While this thesis is largely tongue-in-cheek, I regularly find myself astonished at how almost all of the Housewives franchises have had at least one instance of sapphic suspense play out during the season, be it playful fetishization or outright panic and scandal. The most obvious and recent instance of this phenomenon is whatever the hell you want to call what went down between Kyle Richards and Morgan Wade last season on Beverly Hills, but numerous examples remain, including the Denise Richards and Brandi fiasco of 2020, which was followed up with Denise alleging Brandi had mingled with other women in the cast. On Atlanta, you have Porsha and Kandi, Porsha and Tanya, Drew and Latoya, all with their own instances of seemingly queer attraction and subsequent moral panic. A whole season of RHUGT is permanently lost media over a dispute about whether a same-sex interaction between Brandi and Caroline Manzo was consensual; there are entire seasons of Vanderpump Rules dedicated to queer panic between both the women and the men on the show; 40 percent of Brynn’s current caricature in new RHONY is predicated on her openly musing whether she could go deep-sea diving with the lesbians in the cast.
Potomac is no exception to this trend; lest we forget, a few seasons ago, it was revealed at a reunion that two former cast members had dated, with Ashley Darby insisting it wasn’t her. (It has long been suspected to be Charrisse and Katie Rost, although I don’t believe they have ever explicitly confirmed that.) Ashley has made a point to remind the women every season that she is bisexual and repeatedly disclosed her history of threesomes in her marriage; Wendy and Mia played show-and-tell with each other’s kibbles and bits last year. For a group of women who are obsessed with their reputations as wives and mothers in a conventional family unit, they have been surprisingly open about some of their illicit antics as the years have progressed, for better or worse.
That said, if the previous seasons of Potomac teased at the women’s experiences in the lady pond, the introduction of Mia and Jacqueline has thrown us all into the deep end. Beyond being generally turned off at the twisted sisters’ predilection for salaciousness for shock value, I struggle to understand the objective of repeated sensational antics presented under the guise of faux authenticity. Neither of them seems to be on the same page with how comfortable they are being open about their dynamic, which results in a list of half-truths and inconsistent stories that leave me more confused than titillated or shocked. Mia and Jacqueline reveal they have hooked up before, but after extended silent glances between them, they shift to saying it was actually just a peck. They claim they haven’t had a proper threesome, but have watched each other have sex as teenagers, including with Inc; later, however, Mia insists that she has intimate experience with both of Jacqueline’s lips, and while Gordon’s friend was one of their shared partners, Gordon showered with them both once as well. I’m not here to render a verdict on experiences with voyeurism at 19 or kink-shame Jacqueline’s recreational hobby of hooking up with other women for her on-and-off partner’s pleasure — I would just like for at least one of these stories to be coherent, easy to follow, and consistent, for no other reason than to help us get a clear picture of the actual dynamic between these two “best friends.”
Karen, of course, is disgusted by all of these antics taking place on their catamaran, finding them performative and tactless; generally speaking, I’m inclined to agree with her distaste. Ashley, however, seemingly finds herself both surprised and titillated by these developments and takes the opportunity to make a move on Jacqueline (who has been blatantly flirting with her on the boat) while they get ready for dinner. Their first kiss is relatively chaste, but Jacqueline’s nervous reaction would have you convinced they played a one-on-one game of Seven Minutes in Heaven. She insists Mia will be jealous and upset, disclosing that Mia knew she found Ashley attractive and would be possessive and petty about it. Jacqueline’s prediction comes to fruition at dinner, with Mia muttering half-hearted “jokes” that are barely veiled insults. All of a sudden, Mia begins to quip about how she “taught Jacqueline everything she knows” and “these hoes ain’t loyal,” which is quite a rich barb coming from someone who is publicly juggling a husband and a boyfriend between Instagram posts. Judging by Jacqueline’s partner’s loud sigh of resignation when she tells him that she kissed Mia on this trip, these reindeer games are a long-standing roller coaster for everyone in their circle; respectfully, I would like to get off this ride.
The tragedy, for me, is that I would genuinely be curious to explore some meaningful queer conversations between the Housewives. For all of the flaws that viewers have vocally pointed out about RHONY 2: Electric Boogaloo, it has featured remarkably honest, refreshing, and insightful reflections on the experience of women who came out later in life and how that choice affected them and their loved ones, Brynn’s sapphic fanfic notwithstanding. On Potomac, however, all of the potential to meaningfully explore queerness on a Black franchise — after years of the gay men of RHOA being trotted out and swapped like Pokémon cards — is effectively overridden by Mia’s persistent state of mayhem. Mia’s onscreen persona feels like watching a once-promising Bravolebrity’s star collapse into a black hole, slowly consuming all of the chaos in its immediate vicinity and sucking up all the screen time.
Not only is the disarray difficult to make sense of, much less enjoy, the cast is starting to become increasingly vocal that they are over the antics, heeding Karen’s seasonlong ministry that Mia and Jacqueline are a cancer to the show. It is hard to disagree with her when a simple inquiry over why Mia would fly straight to Atlanta instead of checking on her kids in Virginia turns into a rambling explanation that her kids actually enjoyed being abducted across state lines by their dad and begged her to let them stay on the farm, thus alleviating her concerns. Mia has a new fantastical story for each day of the week — and while it may be the case that in her life, the truth is stranger than fiction, it is clear that the women of Potomac are entertaining her turmoil less and less with every passing saga.
Next week, Ashley starts to get ready for her big drag show, tensions between Mia and Gordon start to reach critical mass, and Raymond Huger regretfully attempts to mediate the chaos by doing what he’s best at, which is trying to make sense of a delusional wife’s narratives. See you all then!
Cherry Blossoms
• As many of you have already heard, the Grande Dame did not make an appearance at the reunion, having checked herself into a rehab facility. Personally, I’m of two minds on the subject. While it is certainly frustrating that we won’t have a proper on-camera resolution of Karen publicly coming to terms with what at the very least seems like a deeply troubled relationship with alcohol, the woman is getting sentenced at the end of the month. It is more than likely that this decision was made in anticipation of her lawyers presenting evidence of Karen attempting to take accountability; a 12-hour drubbing has little chance of accomplishing that, however satisfying that may be for viewers. There are too many variables at this time to be sure what this will mean for the future of the show, but I would suspect there is no way that NBCUniversal would invite her back without her agreeing to commit to a full penitence arc next season; it will be interesting to see whether she would agree to that. I know she is a polarizing figure, but as the cast is currently constructed, she remains the glue of the show.
• Gizelle’s abject distaste for Stacey continues to confuse me. Sure, she’s corny, lacks rhythm, and is a bit overearnest, but Gizelle is at least two of those things herself. For Chrissake, Stacey asked her for advice styling a headscarf (obviously intended to cover up the lace on her wig lifting, said as someone who has pulled the same trick many times myself), only for Gizelle to blithely encourage her to go out in Panama looking like an ensemble member in Pirates of Penzance. (To be fair, I am unsure if this had as much to do with pettiness as Gizelle’s clear incompetence laying her own wigs, as evidenced in previous seasons.) It feels like something was lost in the editing bay, and it makes the open friction deeply confusing. We really need some clarity on what happened here, otherwise Gizelle recoiling at Stacey’s touch as she mourns the end of her marriage feels undeservingly testy.
• Mia musters up a pathetically feeble apology to Gizelle for her attempts at retaliation, clearly establishing for the record that she did express her regrets. What I found interesting, however, is how Gizelle chose to respond. She’s very visibly not receptive but chooses to keep the peace at this moment, mentioning that she has personal experience with how miserable filming the show gets when the cast is fractured. She conveniently omits that she has directly contributed to those fractures over the years, of course, but her relatively measured (by her standards) approach to expressing her disapproval begs the question, what could possibly be the final straw that unleashes her wrath against the DMV’s most infamous steakhouse stripper? Considering how terse Gizelle gets when discussing Mia in the press these days, and her publicly unfollowing her on IG, it is safe to assume a massive comeuppance is coming, but I’m at a loss how much worse this could possibly get.
• I remain perplexed at the story line that production clearly cobbled together at the last minute for Keiarna as they upgraded her to full-time Housewife. I find it hard to believe that Wendy received a spontaneous text from a friend speaking to Deborah’s countersuit; that reeked of a prompt from an on-site producer to move the story along to the topic of Keiarna’s legal matters, and Wendy stuttered so much trying to blurt the information out that she gave Cynthia Bailey’s comically stilted “Mr. Chocolate” reveal on RHOA a run for its money. Beyond that, however, I find the way that both the cast and the show approaches Keiarna discussing her cases quite odd. I don’t think it’s our place to dictate how Keiarna feels about being assaulted and how it has impacted her life and relationships with the women on the show, and I don’t know why it took Keiarna making her issues plain for Ashley to finally recognize that she should feel deeply remorseful for how she contributed to this fiasco. While I by no means think she’s responsible for Keiarna not being engaged yet, considering how every time we see Greg he seems to treat Keiarna like a bratty teen he is trying to mentor, I find it almost comically absurd that it has taken Ashley nine seasons to finally reflect on her actions, alliances, and previous partnerships and wonder aloud whether she is a poor judge of character. The answer, in case it needs to be stated explicitly, is a resounding “yes.”