He’s hanging on to Pump Rules relevancy by a thread but, much like an unwanted guest, he’s not about to leave of his own accord.
Whew – we have crossed the finish line with season 7 of Vanderpump Rules and I am here to report that this reunion did not need to be 3 parts. There – recap done!
OK, kidding. I actually felt there were some illuminating moments. Like the glimpse of Katie Maloney‘s hubris. Wowee-wow-WOW. Katie literally always sees herself as the victim. She blames James Kennedy for the internet hating her but the internet rightfully hated Katie long before her antics this season! As Tom 1 never really got a chance to say courtesy of James’ interrupitis – a germ passed from Kristen Doute – Katie has been a rancid bottle of ranch dressing since season 1. Katie’s OWN putrid behavior is the reason the Twitterverse rails on her – it has nothing to do with James or her weight (or her husband’s manhood – how is that not also body shaming?). Let’s just say Katie is giving marriage, ranch dressing, the internet, and humanity a bad name. Oh, and also clothing.
I’m having a visceral reaction to part 2 of the Vanderpump Rules reunion. It’s like Lord Of The Flies. James Kennedy is the pig they’re chasing across the island of the doomed until somebody, (probably Tom 2 if we’re being honest) winds up dismembered. Remember when this show was so fun?!
What I’ve come to realize is that these people – chiefly Katie Maloney, Jax Taylor, and Kristen Doute – live in an echo chamber of their own delusions. They can’t learn from experiences because they’ve blocked all the dissenting voices. Instead, they are deafened by the vortex of praise they offer each other. James isn’t even allowed to speak without Kristen cutting him off and screaming him down with some accusation or insult. Andy Cohen wonders why James so angry. Lisa Vanderpump decides it’s because James had a drink at lunch. Or maybe it’s as James said: so many people yelling at him constantly that he can’t breathe.
Last night was the Met Gala and also someone was thrown out of a PTA meeting at my kids’ school when things erupted into a full-on screaming match. Fittingly, it was also part 1 of Vanderpump Rules reunion – so yeah, busy night!
Also as if trying to straddle two events, like she straddles two worlds on Vanderpump Rules, Raquel Leviss‘s reunion dress was the very definition of the Met Gala theme “Camp,” boasting uber-exaggerated shoulders accented by a full duvet of ruffles. It was like a super amped up version of an Alice In Wonderland dress. I loved it. It was almost a perfect representation for the ridiculousness of this show. Raquel came to make a statement that she is here to stay.
Once upon a time, in a land far, far away a foolish princess sat in her WeHo walkup, and pledged her love to Jax Taylor, a pile of mashed potatoes that sometimes took on human-esque features and pretended to have a heart, but mostly just oozed brown puss. This princess of purgatory is Brittany Cartwright and on last night’s Vanderpump Rules she had an engagement party
This party seemed like it was supposed to be a wedding, until producers decided to drag out the drama by turning it into an engagement party last minute. Like they expected a huge blowout where Brittany’s dad confronted her about what an insipid ass Jax is. Or Jax and the Toms got in a fight with Brittany’s brothers. Instead, the biggest drama was Scheana Marie crying in a corner because Adam Spott rejected her adopt-a-penguin apology gift.
Last night’s Vanderpump Rules was the prequel to the season finale, which means the bulk of the episode was spent finally FINALLY giving Scheana Marie some attention and something to do besides machine gun laughing at her own jokes. Of course Scheana wasted all this prime real estate on
Marina del Rey whining about Adam Spott and going on a fake date to make him jealous which obviously backfired like a rusty pickup in a PCH traffic jam!
The other half of the episode was dedicated to Brittany Cartwright‘s family visiting from Kentucky for wedding dress shopping and giving Jax Taylor the third degree. If Jax gets out of this marriage alive he’s leaving with a rat tail, less than half of his savings, and a ripped plaid shirt wrapped around a cold beer can that he’s holding to his temple. Don’t fuck with no redneck daddies! (I’m from West Virginia so I know full well how this goes!)
Last night’s Vanderpump Rules was all about redemption. In a Hollywood kinda way.
Stassi Schroeder is in peril. After years of having bad boyfriends and being able to blame, project and justify her own bad behavior as their fault for having worse behavior, she is now dating the man of her dreams and needs a bad girlfriend detox. Enter Beau Clark: someone who does everything Stassi demands of him, entertains her endlessly, cedes to her tantrums, and accepts that even when Stassi is wearing a mini skirt, she wears the pants. Basically she’s a queen dating the court jester.
But winter is coming and that winter is Stassi’s demand for unwavering sycophancy and the lashing of her evil tongue when Beau doesn’t capitulate. Last time it ended in eczema and tears, but what if someday Beau decides he can no longer take being a battered boyfriend, aka the future subject of a Lifetime Movie?
Last night’s Vanderpump Rules was one of the most boring and utterly pointless (re: contrived) episodes we’ve seen in a long time. Clearly this season is running out of steam if the major happenings are Raquel Leviss trying – and failing – to invite people to a “Puppy Shower” for her dog, or Lala Kent having a low-grade panic attack after too many
edibles drinks in Mexico.
Like really, how many times can we watch Stassi Schroeder and Beau Clark have the same whiny crying fight with their puffy hung-over faces and snotty tears? UGH. How many times can we watch Katie Maloney make fun of Tom 2‘s dick. I mean, we get it – sometimes it’s invisible, other times hidden behind a mini bag of Lays Potato Chips. And honestly how many times can we watch James Kennedy grovel for acceptance and forgiveness? James let your self-esteem be like Tom 2’s peen – a grower, not a show-er.