We pick up where left off in another one of Aviva's garishly painted rooms where she and Carole are arguing over whether or not they are psycho or writing their own books. According to Aviva, henceforth known as "Avicious," the "word on the street" is that Carole didn't write hers. 'Word on the street,' like the machinations Aviva creates in her mind while walking down the street? Word on the street is also that Carole's fiction book was a flop in need of serious re-writes. Word on the street is also that it takes a village to write a book. Again, that's only the word on Avicious street.
Aviva invites Carole to lunch to discuss books, which really become a war of the words and over words and who wrote them. Aviva started out as a fangirl who took her obsession a little too far. She's currently boiling Carole's bunny slipper in a pot of water to make pasta. For some reason Aviva has an obsession with Carole eating pasta.
Aviva whips out a pair of glasses and says she SWF'd Carole's look. I think she was making a joke. Carole thinks she was making a threat – to both her sense of style and her livelihood. "Imitation is not the sincerest form of flattery. Flattery is the sincerest form of flattery," Carole corrects. Aviva did not get the memo. For a "writer" she has trouble reading between the lines. Maybe Carole should have used a ghostwriter?
I have to say I'm excited for Real Housewives of New York. It's been awhile, there's new blood, and interesting shakeups. I reserve the right to hate to my little hater heart's content as the season progresses.
Speaking of new blood: meet Kristen Taekman. Kristen loves Elvis, hates being a mother, possibly hates her husband, is justifiably afraid of Ramonja and is prettttttteeeeeeey! She also seems sort of sensible, straight-shooting, and refreshingly sarcastic. So far I like her and I'm trying not to judge her by the company she keeps (ahem – Brandi Glanville!). I reserve the right to hate to my little hater heart's content as the season progresses.
So let's get on with it. First on the agenda: everybody hates Aviva Drescher. I mean, duh. Apparently Meviva's 6,500 meltdowns last season, coupled with her extreme arrogance and her perverted father (who is probably illegal in at least 40 states) won her more enemies than friends. And no one is even bothering to be her frienemy but Heather Thomson.
Heather is throwing a party to show-off her relevance (i.e. that she used to be a big wig at Bad Boy Industries. Holla!) and all the girls will be there which means it's the first time they're coming face-to-face with Aviva since the reunion. Carole Radziwill gnashes her teeth at the thought.
Last night was the first segment of the Real Housewives of New York reunion. There was a definite divide between the demeanor of the veterans and the demeanor of the newbies last night. And by that, I mean the oldies came prepared to fight, get vicious, down and dirty while the newbies obviously didn't do their research and came prepared to recap the season and discuss.
Reunions are both my favorite shows to watch and my least favorite to recap. My favorite to watch because we get an unfiltered glimpse of the ladies, but they're a real beast to recap because the accusations are flying and the screaming is coming at you from all sides. Meanwhile I'm just trying to assess what everyone is wearing and who looks the worst. In the case of RHONY that award always, without fail, goes to Pinot Singer and last night was no exception.
I'm pretty sure the Project Runway "Unconventional Materials" challenge dress Pinot wore was constructed from old plastic bags on the top and my grandmother's living room sheers on the bottom. All dyed Crayola royal blue. Madame, you are in need of an intervention. Please refrain from drinking and dressing for the duration.
Last night was the season finale of Real Housewives of New York and as you well know by now Season Finale is a euphemism for fights, meltdowns, and histrionic antics.
Yep, surreptitious nonsense was the mantra last night as the ladies desperately tried to out-rude each other and deny any infractions once caught. Ok, so not everyone was an outright embarrassment to humanity, but at least three people were! Lets here if for LuAnn de Lesseps – our countess of redemption. She actually behaved semi-classy and um, like, normal-ish last night.
So Carole Radziwill, the le chillest Housewife ever is having some sort of charity ping pong party. Seriously – last night was just events cubed. It was events, events, events – and trips – that's all this whole season was. Which I guess is fine if that's how these women live their lives. It's certainly better than labor and delivery room footage, I suppose.
Carole invited everyone and she's hoping her culottes, borrowed from Lee Radziwill's 1956 summer camp closet, will scare everyone into behaving. It sort of worked – either that or everyone collectively and separately likes Carole enough to keep it in check – at least temporarily. Aviva Drescher arrives with an agenda. And that agenda was to talk about herself at length and dominate all conversations with a litany of complaints about Pinot Singer.
Last night on Real Housewives of New York one special housewife had a resurgence of adolescence when all she talked about was me, me, me, mememememememmememememe! Yep – one whole long hour of Aviva Drescher, her phobias, the horrible St. Barths psycation, and her problems with Tweedle Drunk and Tweedle Cum. Luckily Heather Thomson was there to speak for the masses, be the voice of reason, and finally suggest that she maybe just LET. IT. GO.
Things begin with a dinner party in a lovely UES apartment. Attending the party are siamese twins Pinot Singer and Sonja Morgan and their frienemy LuAnn de Lesseps. Apparently all three ladies share a mutual friend who is probably looking for camera time because she's selling her apartment, her recipes, her interior design business, her dignity, her husband, whatever…
LuAnn lets us know things have been strained with Jacques since she told him about the incidents in St. Barths, mainly pertaining to a late-night episode in piratry, so she's been giving him extra reassurance that she cares.
Last night on MTV Real World Spring Break, oh… errrr…Oops! I mean Middle-Aged (Wannabe) Girls Gone Wild. Oh… danggit – I mean Real Housewives of New York! There we go, that's the right show. Anyway, last night on RHONY the battle between Turtletime and Hurricane Aviva continued to rage. I think we're going to have to declare this one a draw because both these crazies went in circles like a typhoon and I don't think anything was resolved!
So things begin with a little bitching and arguing over what else – girls trip vs. couple's retreat. What about therapeutic retreat? Why didn't Bravo call in some therapists to assist with the lunacy and sit everyone down for a good ol' " I feel" session followed by some team building exercises?
Over breakfast, Reid and Russ are present and this is not acceptable. A clearly hung-over Sonja Morgan is shoveling in the food at warp speed and complaining about being called white trash. Pinot Singer and Sonja try to "pretend" they have no idea what that even means and hop on Google for a little investigative research. They get on dictionary.com and are most surprised to find a photo of themselves right next to the description. Oh, that can't be because White Trash means "poor" and they are not poor. They are just bankrupt and married to (or divorced from) money. Then someone distracts them by yelling wine and they decide oh, well at least White Trash means you're nice and it doesn't have anything to do with being inhospitable anyway.
Last night on Real Housewives of New York gale force winds and torrential rains swept through the tiny island of St. Barths. Yes, Hurricane Aviva had arrived and she was there with a vengeance and a fury. Whipping through the villa, shaking the trees with the huffs and blows of her screams and drenching the luxury with her tears and anger.
Oh, Aviva Drescher. She wanted a red carpet, a cookie, for her husband to be exalted as a saint all because she got on an airplane and showed up. Too bad everyone else was like, 'whatever bitch – have a drink.' So yeah – needless to say paths were crossed, enemy lines were drawn, and her arrival sank like a torpedoed submarine.
Before we get to all of that, the girls are still – shockingly – getting along, despite Pinot Singer's insistence at stalking the lovely and handsome pirate one night stand of LuAnn de Lesseps. 'Tomas! Whacha do last night? ' Pinot leered, wine sloshing over the top of her glass, wine bloat bursting out of her hideous flesh-colored dress, eyes popping and crackling with desire. Not desire for Tomas you understand, but desire for incriminating information.