Sorry I haven’t been actively blogging lately. I have been in a great mood lately and tend to only do my best work when I am angry or super menstrual. Lucky for you and my vagina, I am menstruating (#notpregnant) so I knew it was time to delight my bitches with some updates on my life.
Firstly, I have started wearing Uggs. I feel like I should probably go get a Wal-Mart credit card and go buy some fucking Warm Vanilla Lace body spray because isn’t that what people in Uggs do? This is a true story, I am quoted in my high school yearbook saying, “Uggs are UG” a decade ago (I won ‘Best Style’ #humblebrag and that tidbit was all I could come up with as a style philosophy). At the time, this was very controversial. I lost like 7 friends who swore by a Hollister jean skirt and Ugg boot combo after that was published. So as you can imagine, as I ventured to Starbucks this morning in leggings and my very vintage Uggs I felt like a super cunt traitor but also amazing.
Also on an entirely unrelated note… someone called me a pedophile on twitter. Just because I innocently called Hilary Duff’s 4 year old son hott. I would like to go on record and say that I stand by that statement. Seriously though have you seen him? Hottest 4 year old I have ever seen. If the one upside of sexism is that as a woman it’s less pedophilic to call kids hott, then please let me take advantage of that. Kaia Gerber is hott as fuck. She gets Cindy Crawford genealogy AND a lifetime of Casamigos Tequila. Romeo Beckham… please call me when you are 18. Or 17. Or 12.
Fuck “friends day”. The best part about making harsh statements against these fabricated Facebook holidays is that people get so offended and immediately start to defend themselves for taking part in the propaganda. If you are a regular cyber stalker like yours truly, you don’t need a sappy computer generated slideshow to reminisce. Firstly, you don’t even like 60% of the people pictured and secondly, no one gives a fuck. Publicly celebrating FrIeNdS dAy is like publicly celebrating your menstrual cycle after a pregnancy scare. Or like a Ramona Singer “New Beginnings” party. It’s self indulgent as fuck.
And lastly, on this day February 3, 2016, I initiate yet another Kardashian Kleanse. Because after 3 painful episodes of Kocktails with Khloe, 26 disgruntled reader emails attacking me for calling Caitlyn Jenner an asshole and 487 hours of watching Kylie Jenner’s snapchat and crying myself to sleep – I just kan’t do it anymore.
For those of you who have not jumped on the Real Housewives of New York bandwagon I advise you not only jump but fucking pole vault to the party because this shit is on fire. If the taglines alone don’t slay you with intrigue then you are “psychotic Jesus jugs” (RHOC reference). So we start the episode in Sonja’s BORROWED house with interns a flurry, prosthetic legs, unnecessary bartenders and an absentee Ramona. “If you don’t feel decadent every second, you are doing something wrong.” Doll face… you are filing bankruptcy, flapping your labia around performing burlesque and banging a guy who could be your grandchild. Is this decadent? Despite everything I fucking love Sonja and think she is fun and lighthearted. As a social experiment I have considered applying for an internship with her. Meanwhile Ramona, the Countess and Carole head to a designer showcase. Could anyone else even pay attention to the scene or were you as distracted as myself with Ramona’s fucking handkerchief top. She looks like she just got back from a mid-life crisis summer camp in New Jersey. I just can’t with her sometimes. Then she decides to play frisbee with one the designer plates #turtletime. I am going to keep shit real, I have a Housewive husband crush on Heather’s hubby Jonathan. He is kind of midgey but I would hit it. Aviva, Luann and Ramonja do some wine tasting which brings me back to my favorite quote from last season “I don’t need Pinot Grigio. I just need my husband” said with the utmost conviction. Girl, go home. After trying some wine Aviva proclaims that it is acidic… like urine. What the fuck is wrong with this woman? She is so bat shit crazy she makes Ramona look mentally stable. Hearing Sonja discuss her business ventures is like me trying to explain my credit card statements. Unclear, ashamed, delusional and scattered. Diamonds? Toaster ovens? Sex toys? Gloves? Shoes? Recipes? Lingerie? Tabletop? HUH? Movie business? (all business ventures she named during this ep) Do us all a big favor and marry Harry Dubin so we can see the spinoff… no but seriously. Then a toast! To Sonja’s department store deal? WHAT DEPARTMENT STORE DEAL? FOR WHAT PRODUCT? Oy vey.
Heather heads to Carol’s bachelorette pad with warm beer and tequila to get saucy and eat pizza which is essentially why I like them both so much. Sonja is tending to her plumbing issues in the Morgan when crazy eyes stops buy, 6 bottles of wine in tow #decadent. Ramonja pops a bottle (or 7) of pinot grigio and start discussing Sonja’s financial future. She is now advising The Secret to help her save her home… good luck with that. Please advise: Bitch Bible Book Report “The Secret”. You go ahead and light that abundance candle girl.
“ITS FAJITA NIGHT AT THE DRESCHERS.” YAAAAAAYYY. God I want to club her in the leg. Obviously she has hired a new image consultant and is really committing to this new light-hearted and happy-go-lucky new Aviva. Bullshit. The ladies head to the spa for a day of…relaxation? Carole, Heather and Luann get all lezzy in a communal treatment room and the blondes sip the pinot. Ramona drops a bombshell that she spoke with the mother of Sonja’s 23 year old boo because she was looking out for Sonja. I can’t imagine why, they are only 26 years apart and just the night before stood her up at a restaurant #yolo. Sonja defends his age by saying he is an “international player with a black card” which basically translates to him studying abroad for semester in college and has a trust fund from his daddy. Kristen tries to join the conversation and barely finishing her first sentence, Ramona throws a glass of champagne at her face #turtletime. Kristen strikes back and splashes Ramona and her fresh do. Listen nobody understands the importance of a fresh blowdry more than yours truly but what did she expect Kristen to do? She returns with rollers in her hair looking like a wet pitbull and decides to label pretty Kristen an instigator… have you met yourself? I personally like me some Kristen, her hair and accessory game is fierce and she speaks her mind. The episode ends with Ramonja and her wilted weave shoveling her stumpy legs back to the locker room… poor thing #turtletimegonewrong.
Everyone and their gay uncle knows my 5 year plan to be on the cast of The Real Housewives. Not to be choosy, I’m OBVI willing to relocate, but I feel like I would be a solid fit with the Orange County, New Jersey or Miami gals. Too poor for Beverly Hills, too white for Atlanta (although I would definitely fit in with my weave), and hate Aviva Drescher too much for New York. But hey, let’s be real I’d take whichever. Beyond the bankruptcies, drink throwing, family estranging, song recording debauchery that IS the real housewives franchise, another aspect of the show always fascinates me… the outfits. Gretchen Rossi, I mean this lovingly, but WHAT THE FUCK are you wearing? Get with the program Gretch, some of your wardrobe literally offends me. You live in Southern California cool it with the rainbow colored trench coats. Melissa Gorga, you are not J.LO. Repeat after me, you are not J.LO – good job! Ramona Singer oy, that woman lives for a satin shift dress, preferably in purple or royal blue – honey, go have a bottle of Pinot and brainstorm your next go to. Kyle Richards the printed tunic, bandage skirt, gold hoop earring, middle parted hair chapter needs to come to a close. And Tamra.. just stop shopping at Bebe. It’s time.
I could (and will) go on and on. In honor of all these women that I spend so much time with, I felt it only appropriate to honor all the wives personal “style” redo. Let’s dissect the fundamentals of our favorite housewives style and I will choose pieces from my own closet to pay homage to these Haute Mess Housewives and show modified outfits that these ladies inspired. You’re up first Mrs.Dubrow! (will post tomorrow Heather Dubrow exposé tomorrow… trying to create suspense over here)