The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills recap: Taylor's third filmed breakdown of the season
Brandi's Malibu party turned all kinds of ugly when Camille's friend pushed a deeply rattled Taylor to forgive and forget
I’m exhausted. I wish that instead of watching this episode I’d just gone out to dinner with Ken and Lisa and drunk pink wine with them and blushed over Ken’s winky wink come ons and reminded him with a snicker that it wasn’t his birthday. Giggy and I could have shared a dessert and after Ken fell asleep in his flan Lisa and I might have chosen the final table setting for Pandora’s wedding. I would’ve begged her to reconsider the rhinestone heart napkin holder and she would’ve teased me for being poor. What a night we could’ve had!
Instead: Scary caterwauling. If Taylor was feeling so unwell, so anxious and on the verge of hysteria, shouldn’t one of her life coaches have urged her to perhaps stay in for the evening instead? And if she felt under duress to meet Bravo’s shooting demands, couldn’t she just have gone and folded wash clothes with Kim? Why, why, why did it seem a good idea to put herself in front of the cameras, glug vino, and go to a party where she knew Camille would be? I swear I’m not blaming the victim here but I’m just so struck dumb as to why Taylor was even in front of the cameras for her third filmed breakdown of the season? At a certain point wouldn’t the producer or the camera guy have to just call cut out of pity or disgust?
But I’m getting ahead of myself so let me back up. For once Bravo cut to the chase. After a few brief uninteresting interstitials — Portia no longer recognizes her Grandma Estella; Mauricio paired black shoes with brown pants; Adrienne and Brandi nibbled on lady bites of pizza — the crazy train took off for Malibu. Brandi was anxious to show the women a good time so she invited them all over to her friend’s beach pad for some wine and belly dancing lessons. (You know, I bet if Brandi had gone with her original plans for the evening the sheer novelty of the lessons might have kept the crazy at bay.)
NEXT: Tensions mount on dueling limo rides
Camille brought her faithful friends D.D., who always seemed like a reasonable woman, and Elizabeth as back-up. “It’s because we love you and we will be there,” promised D.D. as they got into the limo. Cut to Taylor who reminded us that she had terrible anxiety and that she was feeling really stressed out by the prospect of seeing Camille. “I am not ready to receive an apology, accept an apology, or even think about seeing her at this point,” she said. Which is why you should’ve made it a Blockbuster night. She enlisted Kyle as her back-up and she asked her warrior friend to make sure no one walked all over her. Would that her back-up had also diluted Taylor’s glass of wine, probably the woman’s worst enemy of the evening, with water.
We segued back and forth between limo rides. “I think that Taylor is worried that Russell will hurt her if he knows what Camille said,” guessed Kyle, who voiced again in her private interview confusion about just what exactly went down in the Armstrong household. Camille wished Taylor had just left her out altogether of her attack on Lisa at the tea party. Taylor doesn’t want to put icing on a cake and make it pretty anymore. D.D. thinks it’s rude that Taylor didn’t respond to Camille’s five texts. As the first limo pulled up to the Malibu house, Camille gave D.D. her final instructions to drag her out of drama’s way. Unfortunately what D.D. heard was to hit the wine table hard, then dive headfirst into drama, wildly thrashing her arms and demanding impunity for her noble mistress.
Weirdly that girl Jen, the sensitive counselor from Sober House, is friends with Brandi and was at the party. With her job, surely this evening didn’t count as recreation for her. She just kind of stood around looking nervous, silently diagnosing people with her worried eyes. Adrienne arrived and looked way too shellacked for a beach party. When Taylor and Kyle finally showed up, everyone seemed in a blowsy mood. “Hi, I’m sorry,” Camille said, going in to hug Taylor. First Taylor seemed to melt in the endless embrace, then she stiffened and her eyes bugged. She detached herself then rubbed at her lipstick and smoothed her flat hair. D.D. gave Camille a big thumbs up which should have been Camille’s first clue that her back-up was sloshed.
Oh Kyle, what do you care if Brandi wore a one-ply or two-ply Kleenex for a dress? She was clearly trying to be a nice hostess and was paying Kyle nothing but respect as she nattered on about how hot Mauricio is (respect must be paid!) and how much he clearly adores his wife. Something (her nipples?) about Brandi brings out the meanest in Kyle and I imagine she’ll once again be apologizing for her cattiness in her Bravo blog. “Mrrrr-eow!” “It’s a wedge but no bra party.” “What is this, Showgirls? Put on a bra.” Kyle took a brief break from making snide remarks to demand a jingly scarf and remind us that she can do the splits and whip her hair back and forth. That woman is lobbying hard for a slot on the next Dancing with the Stars. Then she found a green laser pointer and made fun of Brandi’s nipples. Yeesh, even I’m tiring of her going after Brandi.
NEXT: Train wreck
“I’ll have one more glass of chardonnay since this group drives me to drink, I swear to God,” said Adrienne, as she plopped herself down on a stool next to Taylor. Oh honey, you have no idea. “In my life there are people I trust and people I don’t trust,” said Taylor, her rant gaining steam despite the fact that Camille was standing two feet from her listening to every word. D.D. called bulls–t and resolved to clear the air. She started out awful nice, speaking to Taylor in soothing tones and rubbing Taylor’s arm as the woman cried that Camille “was the catalyst to a lot that will haunt me.”
D.D. was a dog with a very long bone and she wouldn’t rest until Taylor recognized Camille’s glowing heart. “Alright then have her apologize to me,” Taylor relented, “because if she fights with me I will not let go.” D.D. cannot abide by such aggression. “She doesn’t want to fight with you, she’s been calling you for days, she wants to f–king apologize!” Keep in mind, this whole back-and-forth went down with Camille standing with her back to them. You wanna see backed up against a wall, D.D.? Taylor pointed at Camille and shouted “Outside!” “Taylor!” Um, did D.D. not mention that she too knows how to go Oklahoma on a person’s ass? (Meanwhile, Taylor’s back-up Kyle was regaling the other women with where she first learned how to swing her ponytail like a lasso. ) “If she wants to speak to me she can ask me to speak with me,” Taylor hissed at D.D. Which meant poor Camille, already banished to the deck, now was ordered back in to officially ask Taylor to speak with her outside on the deck.
At this point, was there any hope? Camille wisely told D.D. to back off. Three times. Kyle insisted that Taylor step away from the wall. Linda Thompson appeared, still wearing her belly dance skirt, and worried over the harsh toke the evening had taken. “Look at this big, wide ocean, this ocean is going to be here long after we’re all gone.” Some people know how to enjoy their cocoon of wealth! D.D. couldn’t resist taking another poke at Taylor with her stick and then it was really all over. “You have no idea what she’s done to me!” she shrieked, lunging across the picnic table. “No you don’t!” She pointed menacingly at Adrienne. “And no you don’t!” Adrienne tried to muzzle her, but Taylor couldn’t stop railing against the unfairness of it all.
Brandi rather timidly insisted it was time for Taylor to leave her party. Ooh sweetie, no. Kyle slapped at her like a bug, Brandi slapped her hand away. Linda sighed. “You guys are all embarrassing yourself by being out of control. We are an evolved species.” At least the sommelier seemed amused by the crazy drunk ladies. Taylor gave him a weirdly flirtatious smile and then left without her wrap. Camille tried to calm D.D. down in the pantry but her friend was distraught. “You need to know I f–king love you!” she wailed. Camille’s friends are nuts!
Now Brandi was drunk, crying to the Sober House counselor that all she wants to do is fit in. Linda was leading Adrienne in a meditative chant. Kyle was stuck trying to talk Taylor down from the ledge on the limo ride home. Somebody get the woman a goddamn light! “Stop! Pull over!” she screamed. A hand appeared with fire and Taylor sucked on that ciggie like a torch. Kyle rightly worried for all of their safety. Taylor collapsed into sobs and the action cut to black.
Next week: Um, Vegas!
Well friends? Still with me? I’d ask if nipples really are in this season but that seems so terribly besides the point at this juncture. I do have to give it up to Taylor though who was poised and articulate and dare I say a little moving and self-deprecating on Watch What Happens Live. That said, I will not be buying her upcoming book Hiding from Reality. Power to any readers it may help.
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