I have borne witness to many fiascos in my years of watching reality TV recreationally and professionally. I watched the abusive saga of Ronnie and Sam on Jersey Shore live. I remember where I was when I saw Evelyn Lozada call Tami Roman a “non-motherfucking factor” on Basketball Wives. I cried when the Three Divas — Fantasia, LaToya London, and Jennifer Hudson — were placed in the bottom on American Idol, and I knew then that the American voting system was irretrievably broken. All this to say, I have been around the block well before I entered my Faustian contract with the Bravo network. But despite my veteran status, I found myself genuinely astonished — agog, even — to witness a Real Housewife shamelessly quote Maya Angelou in response to a targeted drubbing.
After Mia Thornton attempted to make a scene with her unceremonious exit last week, Stacey Rusch finds herself under scrutiny this week when Eddie Osefo reveals to his wife — and ultimately the rest of the cast — that TJ claimed on camera that he was paid to participate in Housewives and that Stacey was in arrears. It’s fascinating to watch play out: Andy Cohen’s face ranging from amusement to bafflement to mild concern as Stacey continues to deny not only the possibility that she paid him but that TJ even said that; Ashley, desperate to integrate herself into juicy drama, pleading to look at the phone footage; Stacey’s carefully pruned broadcast accent repeatedly faltering as she searches for a proper counter, ultimately pointing out (fairly) that the cast and viewers were skeptical of him all year and it defies logic to simply believe him now.
I don’t think Wendy and Eddie planned this. To be frank, Wendy simply does not have a good enough poker face to pull off genuine shock at the text she received from her husband. My educated guess is as follows: Producers asked Eddie and Greg to film some B-roll around the men, and as soon as they got TJ’s unexpected rant on-camera, prompted Eddie to text Wendy immediately in the hopes it would kick off the discussion that followed. The scramble the production team had to make to get the footage off the cameras, find the corresponding time stamps, and cut it and send to Andy’s phone while trying to document Mia’s exit is a rare feat of logistical prowess in a time when reality production teams are consistently being hammered for poor editing.
Naturally, fans will argue over whether TJ’s narrative is credible. It’s hard to miss the obvious parallel to fellow Detroit native Kenya Moore’s first season of RHOA and her doomed relationship with Walter. (Kenya also insists that Walter lied about that to be vindictive; I’ll leave that determination up to the fans.) I would argue, however, that the veracity of the claim is largely irrelevant. Let’s say he made this all up: Why be this vindictive toward someone you continued to call your best friend up until the footage was revealed?
While Stacey threatening legal action and proclaiming “and still I rise” left me clutching my sides while I gasped for air, her public humiliation was far from the most damning moment in the final minutes of this season. After ten years of whispers, gossip, and speculation, the women finally start to open up about what has been painfully obvious to any faithful watcher of this show: Karen has been struggling with an alcohol problem that has recently gotten out of control. As someone with close friends who battled addiction, I have a lot of empathy for that struggle, but Karen is responsible for her mistakes and she is very lucky that her choices over the years have never taken someone’s life. Her poorly executed attempt to continue to cop pleas with pretaped footage of Ray flubbing their agreed-upon talking points is a tragic low point in a disastrous year for the woman formerly known as the Grande Dame.
I will be honest about my unpopular opinion on this debacle: I don’t think Karen Huger going to jail for a year is a win for anyone. For one, nothing about the judgment so far indicates that the courts have decided to permanently revoke her license, which I believe is sorely needed as she rebuilds her life. A senior citizen in jail is not something I can personally celebrate, as I don’t think that offers any real productive intervention. (And yes, I know people who have lost their lives to drunk driving.) That said, something needed to be done, and I think Gizelle choosing to stop covering for her and be open about what has long been known in their circle is a massive step forward. Addiction is cruel and destructive, but also holding that secret in the hopes that loved ones recover privately can ruin communities, families, and friends who are all held hostage in that shame. Karen stepping into the truth, the same way she has bravely done with her discussions about sexual violence, is the only way she will be able to free herself from that burden and return to a person the cast has all said they know and love off-camera.
Most important, I think we need to have an honest discussion about alcohol and reality TV. Karen isn’t the first Housewife to struggle with addiction; she’s not the first, second, or third woman to get a DUI or an alcohol-related infraction. How many drunken dinners have we seen where affronted parties drive off in a huff? I can count at least three. Currently, Dorit is making thinly veiled comments around Sutton’s alcohol abuse on Beverly Hills, despite having her own signature drink and a husband with a DUI arrest himself; Kyle Richards’s choice to be sober last year was met with scorn despite that being a reasonable decision given her family history. The fan base keeps clamoring for the return of the NY Housewives, whose claim to fame over the past five seasons of that franchise’s decline was getting blackout drunk to the point that they shit their pants. I am not trying to imply that Bravo is liable for Karen’s behavior nor that of any of the women, but at some point, we have to have a hard discussion about how we delineate acceptable alcohol abuse for entertainment and how that threshold shifts depending on how we feel about the women involved. I am not necessarily advocating for a sober era of Housewives as much as I am hoping we start reflecting seriously on how reality television encourages alcohol abuse and the histrionics that emerge from these women when they are three sheets to the wind. I don’t have the answers here, but I am eager to start the long-overdue conversation.
When Potomac started nearly a decade ago, it was a rebranded franchise that was originally conceived around “Jack and Jill moms,” obsessed with performances around etiquette, social standing, and aspirational culture around the Black professional class in the greater D.C.-area suburbs. Ten seasons in and of the remaining OGs in the cast, one is in prison, another is rebuilding her life after a divorce, and another is an empty nester who is about to debut a dating show of their own. It’s a stunning fall from grace from the early pretense of the show, but it is also a testament to the reality that nothing is permanent; time passes, money and love can fade, and the accomplishments that validate your sense of superiority can vanish just as quickly as they came. Your “institution” of a marriage can devolve into an open joke; financial security can be destroyed by the swish of a divorce decree. For better or worse, the first nine seasons were a remarkable deconstruction of how fragile the foundation of elite performance is when funneled through the lenses of patriarchy, misogyny, and colorism. If well executed, the redevelopment of the franchise can offer an amazing renaissance to one of the few shows that provides a (relatively) unvarnished look at a very nuanced experience of Black women in America, and I am genuinely looking forward to seeing how the House of Potomac gets rebuilt over the next few years. The pieces are there, all we need is the right craftsmanship.
Thank you all for reading every week — it has been a joy commiserating and laughing alongside you. Let’s close this out with my final ratings for the season:
Gizelle: Despite her relatively muted presence this season, I am cautiously optimistic for her trajectory. She is meshing well with most of the women, is more discerning about when to kick up drama and when to back off, and is creating a rapport that doesn’t feel closed off. Her performance on the reunion was exactly the Gizelle I like to see, and I am curious to see how she navigates Potomac’s next era. 6.25/10
Wendy: Were the fashions very hit-or-miss? Yes. Did she spend six episodes making us celebrate her 40th birthday? Absolutely. Do I continue to find her a bit corny and awkward? Indubitably. But it is undeniable that between the finale and the reunion, the Osefos secured their position as veterans on the show. The Osefos may not be practicing lawyers, but Wendy certainly held court over these past three episodes. She navigated a strong recovery after Karen feebly attempted to take the rug out from under her, established strong banter with Gizelle that was genuinely entertaining to watch, got her husband an unprecedented “first chair” moment, dismissed an OG’s attempt to malign her with very little pushback from the cast, spearheaded two separate exposés on the best Potomac reunion since season five, and finally got her revenge for how the cast stood with Mia against her two years ago. There’s still room to grow, but Wendy finally found her footing and I will gladly give her her props for that. 8/10
Ashley: Genuinely glad for Ashley that she is divorced and onto the next phase of her life, but the parts of Ashley I find interesting — her life and struggles as a biracial woman raised by her working-class Black family in northern Virginia — continue to be the parts she is reluctant to embrace. She has a real DMV story I would love to see explored with humor and empathy; her family (particularly her aunt and uncle) are magnetic presences onscreen. I don’t care if she continues to date Lil Dicky or whether her businesses continue to flop, and I don’t think she is needed as a conduit of mess anymore. If she wants to take Potomac into the next decade, Ashley is going to have to figure out how to get comfortable talking about herself. 4/10
Stacey: With its relationship drama and all, I would call Stacey’s debut season a clear success. Yes, she’s a little phony and is working to curate an image of herself on-camera that doesn’t seem to align with her offline persona, but being honest is not a prerequisite of being a Housewife; most of this franchise’s icons are infamously delusional. I don’t need a Housewife to be morally upstanding (within reason, of course); I need her to be compelling. So far, Stacey is delivering, and if Kenya’s trajectory after her debut on Atlanta is any indication, the latest addition to Potomac has a bright future ahead of her as long as she continues to bring her friend AJ to film. 7/10
Keiarna: I don’t think this season was the best representation of her appeal, but I would be interested to see her get another season out of Karen and Greg’s shadow. Her performance at the reunion showcases that she can be witty and quick, and we need way fewer confessional gangsters and more people who can shade the other women in real time. Perhaps she would ultimately fit best as a friend-of, but I am open to giving her that chance. 5/10
Jassi: We barely saw enough of her to render a real verdict about her performance, and she barely made it to a commercial break in her appearance at the reunion. Perhaps she is hoping to be part of the rumored WAGS show Bravo is working on. I would be curious to see more details about her life and relationship that we didn’t have a chance to dive into, but unfortunately, I think her time on Potomac has come to a close. 4/10
Jacqueline: I pray she frees herself from the toxic enmeshment she seems to have with Mia and hope she has a safe and happy pregnancy, but I also never need to see her on my screen again. To be a successful reality star, you have to be funny or witty or have a compelling story, and she fails on all accounts. Three strikes, you’re out. 3/10
Karen: No way around it, this was a disastrous season for Karen: no accountability and a disastrous attempt to control the narrative that made her lose every ally save Gizelle and Keiarna. She will return — likely next season as her exit from jail will almost perfectly align with the taping of the next reunion, and I imagine Bravo will move heaven and earth to get that on-camera. That said, I hope she takes a long time to think about how she plans to rebuild the later arc of her life. I believe she can do it. Luann de Lesseps managed to turn her spiral and decline around into becoming a cult favorite, and there’s no reason why Karen can’t do the same if she approaches her return intentionally. 0.08/10
Mia: Don’t let the door hit you on the way out. Her inability to take a relatively mild dragging, all things considered, feels pathetic after we watched Gizelle endure extensive humiliation by Monique on the season-five reunion. I wish her kids a bright and healthy future, but I am relieved we will never have to deal with her antics again. 0.45/10