To my entire maternal line’s deep chagrin, I have yet to select a life partner for lifetime matrimony. In my defense, this is not my fault: The last time Serge Ibaka crossed my path at a Pyer Moss show in Brooklyn, I was still in a relationship that ended weeks later, and I will never make such a devastating error again. My misfortunes aside, I have had the pleasure of seeing a few friends cross the threshold into what seems to be generally fulfilling marriages, save for the odd blowout fight over Uber Eats or in-laws or a passive-aggressive Venmo invoice (people should really make those private). Generally, one of the prerequisites for a happy marriage seems to be wanting to spend time with your spouse. Yet it is barely a week after Caroline Stanbury’s (second) set of nuptials as the newly minted Carrallo, and she is off to reenact her Sex and the City 2 fantasies in Nurai Island, Abu Dhabi — and the results are about as thrilling as that abominable movie.
I am willing to offer Lady Stanbury some grace here — perhaps, in a lifetime of boarding schools, dry kisses on the cheek, and stiff upper lips, she has truly internalized some version of “Absence makes the heart grow fonder.†But Sergio is not a dog you can leave in a kennel while you go on an influencer trip; he’s your husband. She affords him the affection I do my dental hygienist. I am more confused by the dynamics of their relationship than I was by Jamie Foxx and Katie Holmes’s secret romance (seriously, what do you think those two used to say to each other behind closed doors? I would pay to be a fly on the wall).
Regardless, off we go on yet another doomed Bravo girls’ weekend. I am glad they dispensed of the bedroom charade quickly; only Atlanta has managed to make the ploy for the best rooms in a house entertaining, and I did not want to endure Nina pulling out crystals and having a panic attack all because Brooks called Ayan a “bed-stealing bald-headed bitch†or whatever comes to mind whenever she has more than two glasses of Champagne on an empty stomach. Even in a relatively peaceful setup, Brooks manages to sow discord, complaining about Ayan and Lesa’s relationship while Stanbury ungraciously crows in a voice-over about just how extravagant the amenities are and how grateful the ladies should be to experience something she isn’t even paying for. At the very least, we are rewarded with the classically clueless Ayan response of “My tongue has never been up anyone’s asshole, but I could try.†I hope Ayan’s husband appreciates the new horizons we have introduced into their bedroom. Embrace your prostate, fellas!
Speaking of genital stimulation, the ladies drunkenly share a few private moments during game night — namely, the girls detailing their experiences with anal sex, Lesa revealing she has a diamond clitoral-hood piercing, and Brooks revealing she had an affair with a married politician (who I am fairly sure is the former governor of Mombasa in Kenya), which is likely why Ayan already knew which Brooks was referring to. I am happy we saw them have good bonding experiences on the trip, including Ayan showing off her chaotic femme top energy in that balloon game. Having light moments that let the tension out give way to unexpectedly touching emotional beats such as Lesa revealing her tragic story about solving her brother’s murder and why she fiercely believes in spiritual connections from an offhand comment about jinn (which she amusingly confused with gin initially). That is how you start to form genuine connections in an ensemble cast.
Unfortunately, all that glitters is far from gold, and the collective is not yet hitting its full stride, largely because there is a clear power struggle for the alphas of the cast: Stanbury & Co. versus Lesa and Ayan. I am sure the final positions on the reunion couch will settle it once and for all, but until then, the most minor slights escalate into overstated squabbles and feigned disavowals. I am still trying to wrap my head around what happened at this dinner. Sara attempts to politely engage Brooks on the fact that relying on her exes to fund her business ventures is a risky proposition, which Stanbury chooses to back her up on by referring to it as an “investment†— but investors expect returns, and I highly doubt Brooks is paying any of her exes back. It seems Ayan attempts to defend Brooks by saying she has relied on her husband while building out her life, and while it is not the same thing, the level of dismissal is outsize compared with the offense. There is a clear implication that Ayan had no knowledge of business or taking care of herself; Ayan has clearly had to make a way for herself even to be able to sit at the same table as the esteemed Caroline Stanbury in the first place. The level of irritation at her reaction is genuinely mind-boggling. Was this filmed before the incident at the souk and we are just seeing everything out of order? I refuse to believe everyone saw Brooks overreact about her inability to get her point across to Sara at multiple events to the point that people left and are now acting as if Ayan defensively reacting to a point is some gross transgression. If being a drunken scold is what Stanbury prefers over having a proper honeymoon, then I wish everyone involved in that union the best.
Golden Nuggets
• I wish they had spent more time showing off the Lebanese dabke dance — I have been party to a few, and when you hit a groove, it can get really fun, especially with seasoned dancers who have been doing it their whole lives.
• Ayan’s look of disgust at people showing up to meals in pajamas and no glam was endlessly hilarious and absolutely tracks. Even her house robe had tufted feathers on it!
• Loved that they showcased the male headscarf, known as a ghutrah (what Sara used) or more commonly “keffiyeh,â€Â in the one-on-one meet-up between Sara and Brooks.