All of my friends know that I hate surprises. Group dinner reservation? I am looking up the menu in advance and arriving with my preplanned order. Last-minute vacation? I am spending the entire flight researching local conditions, what to do, and the neighborhood we are staying in. I once was taken on a date where the man insisted on trying to get me to go to a “secret location†and I spent my entire afternoon Googling every location around the random car dealership he told me to meet him at until I figured out he was taking me to a Sampha show. (No, I never told him; it was a great concert by the way.)
I give you that background to say that of all of the Housewives contrivances that irritate me — like the rotating cast of New Age healers, unlicensed life coaches, and spiritual gurus we endure year in and year out — few get under my skin the way preplanned games do. I get why they exist: The shows needed practical ways to create drama in the thick of the pandemic lockdown and this was the easiest solution. Four years later, however, the gimmick refuses to go away and at this point is overstaying its welcome, like a really bad ingrown hair. For me, it all feels just so high school, but instead of mean girls trying to bully you by forcing some man to reject you for seven minutes of heaven or whatever, a team of story producers is crafting the most asinine questions intended to create the most conflict. Why would we be at dinner asking whose marriages are going to end first? I know we understand that most of these casts are not friends so much as co-workers, but let’s at least pretend that these women have respect for one another.
As contrivances go, however, I think the game night at Karen’s Love Lagoon — which is simply another excuse for a white party — was executed pretty well, “mermaids†in 613 bust-down wigs notwithstanding. (How long do you think those ladies were in the pool? It had to be at least three hours. I hope they were given breaks.) Everyone is invited to Karen’s function except Jacqueline, who at this point is a blackhead who refuses to be extracted. Though not for lack of effort by Mia, who will call her best friend a tacky barefoot hillbilly one week and then insist she’s the most important woman in the world to her the next.
The games, of course, are about love, sex, and relationships, a fascinating theme for a woman whose “institution†of a marriage has been plagued by infidelity accusations on both ends. We open with asking all the couples if they believe their partner ever cheated — and predictably enough, almost all of the couples say “no†save for Mia, who is there by her lonesome and admits to cheating on Gordon, and Jassi, whose timetable for their relationship and her man’s children never added up. While I am glad to see that Jassi is not delusional about the nature of her engagement, I am struggling to understand why someone who says they have a family vineyard is clinging onto a journeyman NFL player with two kids whose understanding of monogamy is specious at best. If you publicly say that you suspect your partner cheated and his response is effectively “anything that happened was while we were on a break or nonexclusive,†please know that your chances of getting the Ross-and-Rachel ending are slim to none.
While the sex questions felt a little crass to me — I did not, in this lifetime or the next, need to know what Eddie gets into in the bedroom, or which partners were choking whom, or how Karen used to “tear Ray up†— it’s clearly a thinly veiled setup to make TJ uncomfortable and talk about sex, and we promptly find out that he is not a virgin. While I found the whole dialogue about as comfortable as an IUD insertion, TJ and Stacey’s banter was probably the closest we’ve gotten to seeing real romantic energy between the duo. I am still skeptical of the struggling background actor, but at least we finally saw some sparks.
Off in the horizon, however, is a blight the women didn’t see coming. As the omen begins to descend onto Karen’s house, the hairs of the mermaids’ arms stand up; their scales twitch in fear. A miniature dog strolls into the yard, seemingly abandoned and alone — only to be followed by a flurry of pink balloons and a ghastly strapless dress as a knockoff of the Jaws score plays in the background. You guessed correctly: Jacqueline has arrived, in what may be the most ill-advised interruption since Jill Zarin crashed the Scary Island trip. We will see the fallout of Jacqueline’s unwelcome arrival next week. See you all then!
Cherry Blossoms
• The scene of Stacey meeting up with Karen and Gizelle is truly RHOP at its finest. It is striking how much better the show feels as a whole when Gizelle and Karen choose to play nice and lean into their frenemies dynamic. Beyond the humor, they do a great job of doling out advice based on their real experiences with divorce and the church. Men who live their own lives, present different masks, and are eager to get their hooks in you early — all red flags that go up when anyone looks at the dynamic between Stacey and TJ for more than 30 seconds. It’s a shame that Stacey tried to throw them under the bus for a true showing of sisterhood and compassion, but sometimes people have to learn in their own time; regardless, Gizelle and Karen remain the dynamic duo.
• While we’re on the topic of Gizelle, what makes her work is that she’s very aware of her flaws and isn’t ashamed of them. While I didn’t need the dating arc to extend into another week, it is comedy that she got taken out dancing, knowing what a frightful dancer she is in real life. I wish we could have heard the actual music they were dancing to, because I just know she was off the beat in the most incomprehensible way. Also, as a fellow Black woman who also has a history of being attracted to professionals with a bit of a “bad boy†streak, Gizelle is too old to be stuck in these dynamics; she needs to recognize that the flutter in her stomach when she meets those men is a warning, not romance. It’s always “they’re an asshole to everyone else but doting on me†until the day they wake up and they’re embarrassing you, too.
• It should surprise no one that Wendy is the type to make a huge to-do about a milestone birthday. We have had one botched trip to Charlotte, a private party, and now an upcoming trip to Panama all loosely centered on Wendy turning 40. While that is not the way I get down (that level of coordination exhausts me to even think about), I am not surprised that Wendy is into that kind of showboating — but it is clearly getting on Gizelle’s nerves. That “another birthday party?†text was dripping with disdain.
• I’m mildly amused by Keiarna’s insistence that her idea of a vacation is “European cities†and caviar (which you can get at the grocery store), but her sophistication stops short of realizing that they’re going to the beautiful Central American country of Panama and not a beach town in Florida. More important, however, I am really confused as to her presence on the show. It is known that she was upgraded to a Housewife from friend-of as Jassi was downgraded, but they’re doing a poor job of building out Keiarna’s story so far, and it’s almost feeling like a ’90s sitcom where they would switch out a Black character and expect you to not say anything (shout-out to Vivian Banks). Keiarna is a beautiful girl, but all I know about her so far is that she can’t stand Ashley, her man acts like a stepfather and not a partner, and he does not enjoy the idea of being on reality TV (which, to be fair, is understandable for a social worker who needs to keep a pristine reputation to help his community). I need the upgrade to start making sense ASAP.
• I enjoy that Stacey has been relatively open about introducing us to her life. We got to meet her aunt Nora this week, and their banter seems friendly and honest (although I don’t know if it was clear to Nora that TJ and Stacey were choosing to abstain until marriage, not simply remain celibate as Stacey moves through this divorce). My ultimate problem with Stacey so far is that it’s clear that she is trying her best to be strategic, and it makes it hard for me to really understand what is her versus the trained version of her that knows where a camera is at all times. That broadcast sheen makes her entertaining but also inscrutable, and I don’t know how much longer she can coast on that. At this point, I have more questions about the Bugs Bunny … pillow? doll? blanket? that TJ admitted to sleeping with than anything she has going on in her life, and that isn’t the best sign.
• Watching the cast struggle to come up with superlatives for Ashley’s new paramour was hilarious. Wendy calls him “baby Jack Harlow,†and Karen says “he looks like he could be on a milk carton†(which, until she specified Carnation, sounded like she was talking about the old missing-kids flyers). If those were the compliments, I am fearful for the insults, and the inevitable Napoleon Dynamite jokes, to come.
• What is there to say about Mia that hasn’t been said ad nauseam already? The fact that she is still trying to convince us that she is putting the children first in this situation when every indication is showing otherwise is both shameless and shameful, and I don’t want to keep rehashing this.