The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills recap: Now Introducing The Real Waitresses
Brandi agrees to meet her ex-husband's mistress and thus set up the premiere of Vanderpump Rules.
After a nice, long holiday break what a thing to turn on Bravo and get hit in the eardrums by Faye Resnick’s voice. “Lisa, you know I can’t help telling the truth. You know that’s my nature.” Her nasal righteousness penetrates like a contagion. Symptoms of infection include a tawny yellowing of the skin. It turns out that it was Lisa’s nudging that got Kyle up from the table to go check on Brandi outside. And our little giraffe was rather unhinged. “Please don’t cry,” said Kyle, petting Brandi’s arm. Inside Lisa took slow, silent sips from her shot glass, willing herself to her happy place as Faye yammered on about Brandi’s ill breeding. “Who cares about our money?” she insisted. “It’s about our integrity.” Placid Camille just sat there spelling out m-o-r-a-l-l-y c-o-r-r-u-p-t on her leg underneath the table. Poor Faye’s tender heart was broken, broken!, when she heard Adrienne’s tremulous voice. Out front Brandi tried to use her lacquered red baguette to ward off the bright lights of production. “I’ll be fine, I’m always fine!” she insisted from the curb, her long legs folded up like Abraham Lincoln. This was all very hard on Kyle because her girlfriends are like her sisters. Like sisters! She’s making it too easy on her haters this season.
Taylor hadn’t said a word all evening but the stress of watching her former nemesis get eaten as an appetizer was exhausting. So the next day she regrouped by making herself splurts of juice. Then a woman named Alisha—clairvoyant/medium/”apparently associated with Oprah”—came over to bless the house. “This is for discharging,” she said, pulling something out of her purse. No worries, just an everyday black rock used to purge negativity around Taylor’s $1.5 million lawsuit. Naturally there followed some tongue sacral work which involved a few too many lip close-ups. Then Alisha really got down to business and went all blinky and charismatic as she tried to commune with the litigation spirits. “I actually feel like there’s going to be a settlement made. Father? No! Yes I feel like a settlement is going to be reached. Father?” Let’s just spray a little Febreze in the doorway, give a ring-a-ding of this Salvation Army bell, and consider the house exorcised. With the dark cloud cleared, Alisha offered to spill on Princess Diana’s otherworldly adventures in exchange for a turkey sandwich. Taylor’s lawyer/boyfriend John later called with news that those ass hats suing her would give up the fight if Taylor would just cough up her wedding ring and two Hermes bags. Quick shower break.
Kyle invited newcomer Marisa over for a yoga lesson. “All these women. It’s like high school,” said Marisa, her little Keratin-treated pony tail the width of a baby’s thumb. “No it’s not like high school. It’s like elementary school,” said Kyle. Girls are the worst! That poor yoga teacher was determined to just keep talking through their gossip. “Instead of competing with who did this and who did what, move into Warrior 2 with a nice feeling of strength…” But these were rich women in work-out gear, and damned if they were going to pay any attention to their shorts-wearing teacher. Marisa just thought it very rude that Taylor and Camille didn’t even try to engage her at dinner. The teacher plugged his ears, put them in a hip stretch and gave one final plea. “I mean, how about if we don’t even talk for a few seconds?”
Lisa took Brandi for some retail therapy. In an additional attempt to cheer up her young friend she wore her canary-colored dress that showed off her generous decolletage. While Brandi admired a tube top/mini Lisa pitched the idea of Brandi sitting down to hear out the sins and apologies of her comely waitress
Shena Scheana, the little fawn in a black cocktail dress who Lisa excused from her restaurant opening after discovering she’d slept with Eddie Cibrian while Brandi was pregnant and married. Vanderpump Rule #1: You don’t turn down Lisa’s suggestion to meet your husband’s former mistress when there is a new Bravo show premiering.
NEXT: So much eyeliner.
Time for the weekly 90-second interlude at Casa Yolanda. On tonight’s episode she wore a black ski vest over her super-wicking tank. There was an unruly pile of tomatoes, an onion on a chopping board, and an overflowing pot of water. Bolognese night! It’s very important to Yolanda that her family eats together. The ritual provides opportunity to coax your 17-year-old daughter away from nefarious influences like club volleyball and remind her of those disconcerting days when she spooked her mother by refusing to wear anything other than a Lakers jersey. Something in me clings to Yolanda’s lioness appeal but then she says ridiculous things like “volleyball is a very masculine sport, modeling is very feminine…” And then there’s the ingratiating fact of David Foster. He wants all of us microwaving types to recognize the rare flower that is his wife who prepares dinner for her family and spoon feeds the horses their vitamin packs. “Men don’t think about that stuff. We’re just so preoccupied by our job and this and getting ahead.” (Women = not preoccupied with their jobs and “this.”) His review of Yolanda’s dinner: “Very good. A little spicy though.”
Somewhere a Bravo intern is preparing a one-sheet for the pitch meeting. New show: Brandi Loves Camille.
There was a brief, tense scene between Adrienne and Paul at his office. He annoyed her by setting her bag on the floor. She got under his skin by getting lipstick on his coffee mug. Both of them think they devoted more time to what I imagine is now their doomed skin care line. Remember when we convinced ourselves during Season 1 that theirs was a charming if nettlesome partnership?
Taylor and her lawyer/boyfriend went on a triple date with Kyle and Mauricio and Lisa and Ken to celebrate her sort-of settlement. She got a little whimpery about her ring and purses but Kyle reminded her that all material things can be replaced. Lisa told her she was proud of her. Adorable Ken made a joke about how he faked his whole hip surgery. “I love happy dinners,” said Kyle. Just then the lawyer/boyfriend dropped a little bomb about a Kim sighting at a cigar club. Excuse me?, said Kyle. She does not approve, which gave her an opportunity to wipe at her eyeliner with her napkin
The hour ended in rather crass fashion. Brandi kept her date with Scheana, the two eyeing each other warily in Lisa’s empty restaurant. Here are the cliff notes of Eddie Cibrian’s dog days. He left Brandi for Scheana and then left Scheana for Leanne. “He told me he loved me, he bought me diamond earrings, he took me on trips!” said Scheana. Ooh child, not the road you want to go down on this reconciliation. “I was his everything, you were the other woman,” said Brandi, slapping her back, “so don’t get it twisted.” (I know you’re vulnerable Brandi, but I’m not sure if you were in fact his everything.) She then informed the young woman in the enormous earrings that she was still higher on life’s totem pole and Scheana was just Eddie’s Tuesday night girl. Uh, it wasn’t only Tuesdays. They liked to go to the lake (on Brandi’s boat) and to the Trojan Horses bar (that was Eddie and Brandi’s bar). He even met Scheana’s mother when he helped her move. This was all terribly awkward but Brandi finally had the wherewithal to ask a shrewd question. Who of Eddie and Brandi’s mutual friends were in on his deception? Scotty, you in the dog house now. By this point Brandi was confused as to why Eddie wasn’t in possession of 87 Oscars. “The kid can’t act but honestly he can lie straight to my face and your face.” Finally Brandi laid the blame for the whole ocean of ugliness at her ex’s feet and her heart seemed fully broken. “He was the love of my life. He was my everything. If I didn’t have his kids to take care of, I don’t know where I’d be.” Oy.
There was a music shift, a cut to some sneering waitresses in the hallway, and like that we segued with icky ease to Vanderpump Rules. Here’s all you need to know: One of the girl’s names is
Stacey Stassi and her mom told her she was a descendant of a Swedish princess. The staff at SUR all look like angry, slutty fitness models. “People always comment on the staff and it’s true. We’re all really good-looking. Sorry.” That’s Katie talking. Or possibly Kristen. A bartender drank some Sprite and everyone gasped at the caloric scandal. British people don’t tip. Scheana is considered the home-wrecking fame whore of the group, which seemed rather unfair. Or maybe not. She wants to cut a demo and that means she was literally tasked with going into the booth to record some sex sounds. “Can ya freak, bitch.” Excuse me? “I don’t know if people are going to take me seriously as a singer,” she said. I know the answer to that one!
Guys. Don’t make me.
The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills
Bravo’s guilty-pleasure franchise meets California luxe