As the scene opens on this season’s reunion, Adrienne is busy setting herself up as the One Who Is the Advocate. She advocates rehab, and her position side-by-side on the right couch with Taylor indicates she is also going to advocate domestic abuse victims. Even more importantly, she is going to advocate victims of EPS, a horrendous disease striking people throughout the nation but particularly virulent in Los Angeles, New York, Dallas, and Miami. Excessive Plastic Surgery triggers various facial malformations such as squinty eyes, clownishly puffed-up cheeks, pursiness of the lips, and “orangefication” of the skin. A long-time victim of EPS, Adrienne is too brave to ask for help, but please give. Please.
The ladies, as they sit on the couches greeting Andy, have their personas at the ready. Camille, apparently, plans to continue with her measured, genteel behavior of the past season. She will be graciously modulated at all times, forthright when she believes it is necessary to defend herself from blame, posture-perfect, and well-spoken. Directly beside her is Lisa, dressed in a British-y blue dress and bejeweled with fabulosity. She is not orange, she is not taut and puffed. She is a lady – a lady with a biting sense of humor, but a lady nonetheless. She speaks her mind, but I always have the feeling that she understands the importance of the quality of humility.
Jump to the other couch. Kyle, in a dress that may actually fit her as opposed to being four sizes too small, but since she’s a bit schloopy anyway, it really doesn’t matter. Kyle is no Camille. She’s not even a Dana. She has that Crystal Gayle hair that she swings around like a prop from Cher’s old variety show, and she has that long Hilton nose that she looks down by holding her head wayyyyy back. She does not have naturally good posture, so she perches on the edge of her seat and clutches her knees for dear life.
Beside her is Terrible Taylor the Tortured Terror of Tragedy with Toddler Temperament. Taylor has outfitted herself with what she must believe is a Courageous Face. Her expression and carriage is meant to convey, “Yes, I have been through a terrible tragedy, but I am strong and brave and I will get through this and hopefully make a shitload of money by selling this new version of myself to as many people as are stupid enough to buy it. Because there are always stupid people in the world. I have always relied on the kindness and foolish actions of stupid people. In the meantime, I am still working out and trying to keep up appearances, because it is more fun to go to parties if drunken people still find me attractive. And they do, oh yes. They do.” Chin trembles, then she winks at camera.
On the far end, in her old flag-twirler marching-band uniform from the great old days when she went to school with girls who were cheerleaders for the Bedrock High School Boulders, back when she desperately wished that her classmate Barney Rubble would look at her once, just once, is Adrienne. As I mentioned above, Adrienne has shouldered the burden of advocacy and what she hopes is a reasonable tone that will merit respect and admiration for her Goodness in All Things.
After some strange discussion about Lisa’s badonkadonk (a slight misstep by Camille, who repeated the word one too many times), we go from large and extravagant buttocks to large and extravagant weddings. Andy prods Lisa to give up the cost, which she doesn’t – and explains beautifully why she won’t – and then asks about the tiara.
That tiara! I have to admit being a little taken aback by the tiara. I also was not a fan of the back view of Lisa’s dress at the wedding, though I think she’s fabulous in a unique and sweet and girly yet classy way. The tiara was something that Pandora gave her mother, and Lisa wore it, and Kyle and Adrienne used Andy’s question to get in a few digs that they pretended were compliments. Lisa, however, was not fooled by their sticky-sweetness, and when Adrienne tittered, “Once a princess, always a princess,” Lisa gave her such a look of disapproval you could actually hear the air poofing from Adrienne’s various air-discharging chambers as she deflated. Oh, poo! Strike one!
You see, this reunion is so obviously a calculated attack on Lisa that you can all but see the scorecards floating in the air above Kyle and Adrienne’s heads, suspended aloft on hair spray fumes and seeping microscopic strands of the bovine collagen dermal filler emitting from the pores of their scalps. You can see the wine-strewn lunch, planned well in advance with a dry yet chewy spread from Adrienne’s chef Bernie, in which Adrienne – acting as the voice of reason – taps her pink Crayola against the page in her Paul Frank notebook and says, “We have to do this. We have to show her that we aren’t going to stand for this kind of abuse anymore.”
By “abuse,” Adrienne means a word that she has heard before on this show. It is the equivalent of the New York Housewives latching on to the word “bullying” a few seasons back. When Taylor says the word “abuse,” she means something that may or may not have happened to her, but which she is going to say happened to her because when you embrace a career, it’s important to really throw yourself into it completely. When Adrienne says the word “abuse,” she means that Lisa has become way more popular than her this season and Lisa had better realize that Adrienne wanted to be the popular one, the one with the rumors of her own show, the one who always won the Watch What Happens Live polls. Sadly, because Lisa didn’t abide by these basic tenets of Adrienne’s anti-abuse platform, she is going to make sure that Lisa pays by convincing the sundry lesser members to join her in a little skeletal army siege. This was, of course, Kyle’s idea, because Kyle is the instigator. But for now, Adrienne thinks it was her own idea, and she is delighted with the way things might go since there is a tacit agreement to attack Lisa and not attack each other. In this case, the safety and power sought by the Right-hand, Stage-Left Couch is the stuff of bullies and cowards.
Lisa has moved from the house across the street from the Maloofs to new digs, and Kyle of course is stirring the pot. Kyle is a pot-stirrer, a shit-stirrer, a banker of information who doles out high-interest loans in order to have people curtsey to her with gratitude and invite her sorry never-been-self to parties. Adrienne, who is not the brightest bulb in the overblown chandelier store, would probably not even consider being mad if Kyle had not craftily inserted a little seed of indignation, which grew like a nuclear fish in the dermal-filler-plugged neurons of Adrienne’s brain into full-fledged, barely-controlled rage. What is Adrienne mad about? She answers, “Remarks that may have been misconstrued.” By which she means Lisa’s remarks that she personally misconstrued. Some stupid dog war on Twitter in which people were taking sides for Lisa’s dog or Adrienne’s dog, starting with inane remarks about how Lisa’s dog was not so great. Somebody hurled, “Team Jackpot!” and Lisa responded, “Oh, Crackpot,” or whatever. It was hurtful to Adrienne, apparently, that Lisa rhymed the word “Jackpot,” which is her dog’s name, with “Crackpot.” The dog is like her child, she says, which may be true except for the fact that Jackpot the Dog sometimes appears on the show as a member of the family.
In addition, Adrienne is mad about the Maloof Hoof and the Planet Hollywood Party.
The Planet Hollywood Party is, of course, Pandora’s bachelorette party, which was held in the Planet Hollywood Casino and Grill owned by Lisa’s insanely rich friend Mohammed. There were strippers a la Chippendales and naughty chair dances, and Taylor got to go, too, because Lisa was trying to soothe her after a Tea Party outburst of weird tears and shrieking. Taylor shrieked here, too, because there were men in tight pants and chairs and grinding and frankly, Taylor likes this kind of thing. She tried to pretend she didn’t like it, because Lisa was there, and she wanted to look classy, but she couldn’t conceal her glee.
Adrienne was not at the Planet Hollywood Party because she was hurt, hurt, hurt that Lisa had not asked her to host the bachelorette party at Adrienne’s own personal Den of Gambling. At the time, she gave the excuse that she was so hurt because she always hosts parties like this, which means, naturally, that she was upset that another casino got publicity. Which, naturally, is ridiculous, because Adrienne threw a Planet Hollywood anti-party in which Camille and Brandi fadoozled on the dance floor. She got plenty of airtime for her place, and we’re not even talking about how Adrienne wore a tacky souvenir visor with the place’s name on it for like a whole episode of the show in her own house that has a roof and thus no direct sunlight. Lisa has already pointed out repeatedly that Mohammed gave the party as a gift to Pandora, who by the way invited her mother to join her on camera and insisted that she come despite Lisa’s protests that mothers-of-the-bride as a rule don’t go to bachelorette parties. Lisa also explained the very basic rule of etiquette that commands that one simply doesn’t ask friends to host parties for them. Had Adrienne wanted to give Pandora a party, she really should have just offered to throw another event. It’s a non-story, a manufactured slight. I am certain that Adrienne goes to restaurants other than the ones owned by Lisa, even when she’s on-camera.
When Lisa kindly explained that Pandora had planned her own bachelorette party, in a way that would preserve Adrienne’s money-reaching dignity, Adrienne basically called her a liar. “I find that difficult to believe,” she says. Exasperated by the bratty behavior, Lisa ended the discussion by saying that Pandora didn’t want to have her party at Adrienne’s place. Clearly, Lisa didn’t want to go there, but she would have no peace until she stated the obvious.
The “Maloof Hoof” refers to the shoe line that Adrienne is apparently copying from other shoe designers and Disney mouse cartoons, except for her unique idea of a signature rhinestone glue-gunned onto the sole. She has worked so hard to get here, she complains, that she can’t believe that Lisa would say something to undermine her efforts. Here I must add that Adrienne did not work so hard to get here. Anyone can start a shoe line as long as they have the start-up cash to fund it, a sketch pad, and a cobbler or third-world factory contacts. Adrienne has that start-up cash; she got it from her wealthy family, which is where she got the rest of her money. Adrienne never toiled in a garret in a Paris slum designing shoes for an evil shoe-lord who deprived her of food and hot water; Adrienne never worked her way up a ladder at a design house learning the trade and the business and then venturing forth on her own with a handful of hard-earned cash and lessons.
Wearing pretend eyeglasses and nodding in agreement with a pencil in your hand does not make you a businesswoman.
When Adrienne had her ill-conceived fashion show to introduce her shoe line, complete with long garments that covered the shoes and rendered them invisible, Lisa made the throw-off comment, “Watch out Maloof Hoof. Here comes the VanderPump.” This was a witty little aside that was a take on her own name, and used a word that rhymed with Maloof. It was not an attempt to demoralize Adrienne and keep people from ever wanting to buy her shoes. It was making fun of Lisa’s own name! If Adrienne actually thinks that people wouldn’t buy her shoes because of Lisa’s comment, she clearly has not looked closely at any of her shoes. The shoes are the reason nobody would buy those shoes.
Adrienne has this self-aggrandizing wound to nurse, and she is nursing it mightily. She tried to make a joke – what if I called your restaurant Villa Blanca (tee-hee) “Villa Caca”? Nobody laughed at this, especially Kyle, who I can’t help but suspect either originally coined this worthless gem or was at least present at its conception because even though she was off-camera, you could see her tense up. Literally, you could see it, because Adrienne took a quick glance and shut the hell up. Because there is nothing any normal person could say to someone who thinks a poop joke is a reasonable argument to validate hurt feelings, Lisa did not respond, forcing Adrienne to fill the vacuum of silence with more desperate maloofings. Camille annoyingly stepped in to validate Adrienne by saying she thought the comment was mean, and Lisa’s patience ran out – she called the Maloof Hoof a “little, fat shoe.” It was a low blow, but when people get ganged up on, they often tend to strike back.
Kyle jumps in and complains about Lisa’s “condescending” comments about how Kyle likes attention. This comment by Lisa, by the way, was made in reference to Kyle’s constant decision to do the splits at parties. On tables. Where people rest their drinks, food, elbows. Revolting behavior. The Beverly Hills Housewives equivalent of “show your tits” for Mardi Gras beads. Kyle does need attention. She craves it like some people crave bread or alcohol or expensive bed linens. She wants it and that’s why she keeps her hair so long. Without the hair, who would notice Kyle in Beverly Hills? When a woman does the splits in any venue that is not a gymnastics meet, drill team performance, cheerleading event, strip dance, or gynecological examination, it is for attention. Let’s not get confused here.
Lisa sidesteps Kyle’s maneuver and parries admirably. She asserts that it was hurtful when she heard Kyle telling Taylor that Lisa “preyed on the weak.” Kyle shrugs this off with a flick of her NuvaRing Birth Control earrings and said, no, it doesn’t matter what I said because you made the comment about me in retaliation for what I said. My head hit the wall here; Kyle just excused her own shitty comment by pointing out that she was the first of the two to have made a shitty comment about the other? Huh? Kyle was really getting going here. She was really scared and her pupils got all dilated and she had to smooth her hair back about 17 times. Her speech speeded way up and she kept telling Lisa to be honest. “Be honest, Lisa, be honest.” This is, of course, an attempt to attack Lisa’s credibility as the show’s Voice of Reason. Camille’s eyes were strangely glittering at this point, and I wondered, was Camille at the bash-Lisa strategy meeting, too? Adrienne sat with her mouth open, hoping that this would all crush Lisa.
Kyle makes another attempt to justify her shitty comment by saying that the reason she said that Lisa preys on the weak was not about Lisa. Which is such a stupid argument that you have to wonder whether Kyle was locked in an airline dog kennel for most of her childhood being forced to educate herself via ABC After-School Specials on a television in the next room. I made a rude comment about you in order to rile Taylor up but really, since the comment was really just about me asserting my authority over Taylor, your name was just collateral damage, Lisa. Taylor started to speak, and Kyle shut her up tidily with a smack to the hand and kept digging her own grave. She starts talking about how Taylor was so beaten down by her tragic alleged beatings that Kyle needed to tell her not to be scared of Lisa. Saying that Lisa preys on the weak was just another way of saying that Taylor needs to speak up for herself. This was about propping up our poor, tragic friend. It was also about egging Taylor on so that she would scream at you and ruin your tea party, Kyle neglects to add.
This whole rude comment thing is really nothing, though, Kyle insists, because she and Lisa are really good friends. “In order to be friends with you, you have to be a strong person. I believe that. I really believe that,” she says, in that loud voice drunk people use to insist that their football team should have won or that wizards are in no way cooler than vampires. Taylor is so happy, because she suddenly gets to talk; she makes a nonsensical statement in which she aligns herself with Kyle while also assuring Lisa that if Kyle is not successful in her attempt to overthrow Lisa, Taylor will be more than content to sit at Lisa’s feet on a padded footstool.
Lisa is, understandably, shocked that everyone apparently is so faux-mad at her. This, she suddenly realizes, is why Pandora got nothing but Ped-Eggs from the Housewives at her bridal shower. She wraps it all neatly in a ball and says, Okay, I get it. You all have decided to crucify me and you are going to use your make-believe hurt feelings as justification. I will apologize, because your feelings are, after all, your feelings, and I am sorry that I said you want attention Kyle here everyone watching goes, why yes, Kyle does want attention and I am sorry that I called your shoe a Maloof I won’t say the word because now I know you find it offensive. Kyle leans back, satisfied that she has the point on this battle, even though she came off looking like a conniving asshat. Adrienne takes another tack and says, “Well, you can say it. You’ve already said it.” This was Adrienne’s way of letting the audience think that the damage is already done and she will suffer eternally from an imagined lack of shoe sales caused by the only marketing maneuver that would actually make anyone associate the name Maloof with “shoes,” but she, Adrienne, would never be such a controlling freak as to censor Lisa. This remark was one step past the edge of the already rickety diving board, and Lisa is completely flummoxed.
Fortunately, Kyle knows how to handle this touchy situation. Having watched ABC After-School specials via a mirror over the dresser in the guest room that sort of showed the grainy picture of an old cabinet Zenith sitting next to the family’s shrine to its major source of income, Kyle’s sister, Kyle drags out the lessons learned in her old dog kennel world. Couching this next blow with “I love you, but,” which are the most preposterous words ever spoken because if you love someone, really love them, you accept their faults and don’t hold them up as a reason to publicly ridicule them, Kyle yabbers that being friends with Lisa is akin to playing chess with Bobby Fischer. Lisa is smart, she sez, and every move has to be calculated when you’re in a friendship with her. Kyle pretends that this is an awesome compliment, but of course it is such a stab in the face with a meat cleaver. She is saying that Lisa controls them as if they are pawns.
Andy Cohen comes right out and says, “Are you saying that Lisa is manipulative?” And Kyle acts for a second – you can see the effort skittering down her forehead and down to her mouth and out the ends of her fingers, which is to say, she is crap at acting – and then throws up her hands, insinuating that confronted with the truth of the matter, she simply will not lie. Of course, she’s a liar. So you can count on the fact that she’s lying. Lisa narrows her eyes ever so slightly at Kyle, disgusted that Kyle has taken this route of attacking her while also maintaining that she loves her, and says, “Thanks, Kyle.” Which means that this is not over, not by a long shot, and Kyle and her measly little life had better watch out. Kyle knows this, and she starts scrambling again; Lisa is a smart person, she’s so smart, and she makes Kyle nervous because she’s afraid to have Lisa angry at her.
Lisa responds, rightfully, “I’m scared of you, your temper, as well.” Which was put brilliantly. She’s scared of Kyle. Lisa is not going to put up with Kyle’s ridiculous Mean Girl Brutality without pointing out that Kyle is pretty frickin’ scary on the order of scary human beings. Taylor makes a face grunt to show that she is neither for nor against Lisa or Kyle; for the right price, however, she might be able to provide information that could make any story interesting. Kyle takes the opportunity to attack Lisa for calling her out on her shit-cheese behavior at game night – that heinous Empty House Party in which the Richards Sisters were complete stinking toilet brushes to Brandi, just because. How dare you say I acted mean when I am absolutely super-sweet and not at all mean? Dammit, you KNOW I AM NOT MEAN! Kyle screams, brandishing her wide-wristed man hand in a sweeping fist of destruction toward Lisa’s face. I am so $#*s&!)% NOT MEAN, dammit! Tell them! TELL THEM! TELL AMERICA THAT I AM NOT MEAN, or I will beat orphan kittens within an inch of their lives and then raise my arms above my hair and do my admittedly bad impression of an evil lord-witch laugh over their writhing near-corpses!
Lisa listens carefully to Kyle’s menopausal and obviously deranged rant and then says, sagely, “If you have six people and put them together on this journey, of course you’re going to have disagreements.”
Completed deflated like the clown nose that inspired her look this evening, Kyle pouts and nods. Strike two for the Mean Team.
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