As an avowed student of the Reality Arts & Sciences, I am quite familiar with the cast members’ various attempts at quick cash grabs. I witnessed when the Vanderpump Rules cast jam-packed their podcasts with ads, sold silly screen T-shirts with catchphrases, and made merch for a sandwich shop that will never open in the wake of Scandoval. I didn’t mind when Porsha started selling sheets and extensions you can buy for yourself on AliExpress at a significant discount; I got the “Black girl luxury” lifestyle vibe she was going for. I almost entertained buying iconic drag queen Tamisha Iman’s sneakers until Bob the Drag Queen said he still hadn’t received his pair after a few months. I may have moseyed my way into a Century 21 to see what the tea was on Sonja Morgan’s clothing line to help keep everyone’s favorite floozy on top of her bills. All to say, I am not above supporting a Bravolebrity’s short-term money flip if the gimmick is done well.
The reality is that few Bravo cast members will develop the next Skinny Girl, Loverboy, or whatever other fluke turns into a big idea. Most of the girls will have to get their QVC on and end up with a brief uptick with attention on whatever the hell Amazon Live is supposed to be while they hawk their wares. Still, I will respect a genuine effort at putting a foot forward toward women’s financial autonomy. But Robyn opening a new franchise of a membership-only facial store? I don’t really know how big Glo30 is, but I’m rooting for its success (and perhaps the opportunity it provides Juan to find some fulfillment as he remains between jobs at the moment). Wendy finally completing the pilot of her talk show? I was confused about what the $50,000 Eddie provided her on top of her existing budget was for, but hey, I would love to be proven wrong about this endeavor. Gizelle and Ashley — two of the tackiest ladies on a cast full of ASOS discount pulls and garish designer accessories — starting what seems to be an attempt at a couture athleisure line? Gizelle’s namesake, Beyoncé Giselle Knowles, tried it with Ivy Park (with Adidas’s support), and that collaboration still ended, so it is baffling what the duo thinks will come of their venture.
On and off, we have seen the two women chattering about “workout clothes” this season as they rifled through various garish polyester fabrics. Imagine my shock and awe when the line debuted, and we were treated to poorly tailored bodysuits, a silver hooded cape paired with pink shorts and baby heels, white crop tops emblazoned with their logo alongside tailor slacks, and faux corsets. As Karen quipped, it is more on the lines of “booty club nightclubwear”; Candiace rightfully referred to it as elevated Alibaba. The snark that flew is nothing new for this crew — especially since most picked one thing they would buy to support — though I couldn’t help but observe that the styling and pieces for the show are so thematically incoherent that if Robyn, in her three-piece brassiere/suit getup, had told us she was originally supposed to be walking that runway, I would have easily believed her. My misgivings over Ivy Blossom aside, I give props to Gizelle and Ashley for executing their business idea and making the sartorial choice to take their foot off Lululemon’s neck. A particular shout-out to Gizelle, who was under immense pressure due to her father’s health crisis. (For those who don’t know, her father, Curtis, ended up passing not much later in July.)
In any case, the real drama of the event comes from none other than last season’s Deborah, who is so disruptive to the group dynamics that she comes with her own eerie musical tags from the editing bay. As Wendy stated, it is no surprise that Ashley brought her to this shindig; her penchant for chaos and disorder to distract everyone from interrogating her own life is well-documented. What is genuinely delusional is Deborah’s belief that she should (1) be welcomed back in with open arms and (2) be owed an apology for Candiace’s publicly disapproving of her. She snakes around the room in a plain Versace bodysuit and ill-fitted pants, demanding the cast engage with her. Mostly, they politely oblige and keep the peace at Gizelle and Ashley’s big showcase. As usual in this cast, things got funky after the drinks flowed and the cameras went down. Deborah found herself a stash of liquid courage and demanded that Candiace acknowledge that she publicly insulted Deborah, who made ridiculous claims that Candiace’s husband flirted with her (which was proven false). There are many situations in which Candiace deserves reproach, but calling Deborah a “Sesame Street character” is funny and far from one of those situations. Deborah is not owed an apology. Deborah is not owed came a time. Deborah is not so much owed the letter and number of the day. Despite this, Deborah couldn’t contain her frustration with Candiace, and the argument escalated into fisticuffs that have since gone viral. It’s sad and pathetic, and I hope that Keiarna is not unfairly penalized in her freshman run for handling the evil invasion of a hobgoblin.
Next week, this long, tortured journey of a season finally ends. Everyone breathes out a big sigh of relief!
Cherry Blossoms
I can’t pretend it was a lingering concern for me, but I’m glad that the plaque around Karen’s heart is no longer a concern. Now she is free to train her inner thighs to her heart’s content, and I love that for her.
The pilot for Wendy’s show looked well put together and engaging enough, so why isn’t it available on her YouTube channel? If she’s only showing this piece to potential networks while depriving her current fan base, that’s hustling backward.
I understand what Wendy meant about her resistance to engaging Gizelle on personal matters when she feels her struggles have been slighted, but her commentary did not land well. I wish she would have stuck to Candiace’s party line and just said it’s more appropriate to wish her well from afar or in the group chat.
I know Mia and Gordon will have a blowout fight on camera about their relationship in next week’s finale, but I feel like the editing team has not done a good job of building up to this payoff. We have seen a lot of stilted, but not malicious, interactions in couples therapy and brief moments of Mia clearly over her husband’s shenanigans here and there. Her informing the viewer that Gordon had recently drained her bank accounts to prevent her from leaving — a major violation of trust, to say the very least — is a revelation that should have happened weeks earlier. Right now, all we see is her being tired of a doddering senior citizen who doesn’t have enough money to properly retire yet, as opposed to the combative man she keeps hinting at. It doesn’t make the ultimate fallout feel compelling.
Candiace finally opened up on a topic she has been circling around for several seasons: her desire to be a mom and her fear that she missed her window. It’s a relatable concern for Black millennial women with ambitions, and it is nice to lean into her emotions in a space that doesn’t trigger outlandish reactions, such as her maternal instinct. I wish her the best on her journey. That said, if she chooses to resume her IVF journey on camera, I am sincerely requesting that she doesn’t do like Nneka and Iyke and bring their mics into the arena as they are obtaining their semen samples. The shocked and horrified faces the camera crew made when they heard the live audio playback …
The girls (save Nneka) are enlisted into a photo shoot for a local magazine where they invoke other Black legends — Candiace is the Diana Ross (already outdoing Lisa Rinna’s frightful blackface cosplay), Gizelle is inevitably Queen Bey, Karen is Lena Horne, Ashley is Dorothy Dandridge, Mia is Pam Grier, Wendy is Sheryl Lee Ralph, and Robyn is Mariah. I don’t have any comments on the photo shoot except that the styling for Mariah was an abomination, and I hope they rectified that immediately.
