SONJA'S BOYFRIENDS, TINSLEY'S HAIR, & WINE (RHONY RECAP)
If I was nice, I’d call this episode of RHONY a palate-cleanser. But I’m not, so this episode was the equivalent of cold oatmeal: insipid, grey, and so unsatisfying that I ate all my toddler’s fruity gummies to break up the monotony. Boy, was he pissed when his favorite snacks were gone. But enough about my maternal instincts. Let’s pray that there’s an abundance of cat fights and Sonja vag shots on the flipside.
We open with Tinsley and Carole at lunch, as they prattle on about their mention in Page Six for attending some gala. Tinsley whimpers about clawing her way back into New York high society with a word salad consisting of counseling, post-traumatic stress, the past is my present, New York Post, and mug shot. All I could hear was Xanax.
Carole sagely encourages ole Mugshot Mortimer to reinvent herself. SMART! By cutting her hair. WUT? Tinz can’t even. It’s just. too. much. Her blond and her curls and her blowout and her lashes are EVERYTHING. She wants to reenter high society, not adulthood. Someone get her another 23-year-old to smooch pronto! Their saliva is the fountain of youth and she needs that saccharine elixir.
Meanwhile, over at Chateau Morgan, Sonja’s boyish paramour, Frenchie, is plying Sonja with sweet nothings and home-cooking and probably altering her will when she’s distracted. Anyone else think that “Frenchie” is just a predatory douche from Albany with a fake accent? Is this the Lifetime Movie adaptation of ‘Catch Me If You Can’?
We meet up with Tinsley again, this time with her mother—the great waspy hope—Dale Mercer. Dale is a mashup of a Southern Belle, Cruella Deville, and Emily Post. She would also fit in nicely as a character in ‘Get Out.’
Tinsley is searching for apartments, but who cares. Tell us where Dale lives. I bet she lives in a penthouse bank vault with animals that were deemed extinct. That seems very on brand for Dale.
NOW LISTEN CLOSELY. Because this episode had one ‘blink and you’ll miss it’ moment of pure bliss. Carole and Dorinda jet off to the Women’s March in D.C. This part wasn’t bliss. This part was a depressing reminder that an insane megalomaniac has the U.S. nuclear codes. But that’s neither here nor there. Because I also went to the March. Dorinda made a sign for the March. So did I... WE MADE THE SAME SIGN. DORINDA AND HAVE THE SAME SIGN SENSIBILITIES. HERE’S SOME PHOTO-FUCKING-GRAPHIC PROOF, HEAUXS!
Does this mean I am an Upper East Side lovable lush or is Dorinda a frizzy-haired Jewish comedian? BOTH? I thought so, too.
Next, Sonja visits her more age-appropriate suitor, Rocco, at his bakery in Hoboken. Rocco is funny and exciting and doesn’t seem like he’ll poison Sonja and live in her town house until the authorities come a’ knocking. So naturally, Sonja tells him she’s shtupping Frenchie. Rocco seems unfazed cuz Rocco could outsex some wimpy French boy. He’s Rocco!
Cut to a sweet montage of the housewives primping before a soirée at Ramona’s, where she’ll unveil her new ‘edgy’ redecorated apartment. I imagine that the ladies are listening to Fleetwood Mac’s “You can Go Your Own Way,” because they’re rich kooks. Not Bethenny though. She’s still mad at Ramona and she’s trying to subtly plug a bland brand new show with Fredrik from Million Dollar Listingzzz. And I just ate all of my toddler’s favorite granola bars.
Ramona wants her look to match her edgy apartment so she dresses up like Tonya Harding. I literally cannot think of an edgier person than Tonya Harding, so brava Ramona, brava.
Of course, it wouldn’t be a Ramona party if she didn’t try to destroy the lives of her guests, so she invites everyone’s favorite Lothario, Harry, who has slept with half the housewives and spends the party leching after most of them. She also invites Missy, who used to date Tom before Luann “stole” him away. Newsflash: One can’t steal Tom away if he’s still publicly sexing anything with a pulse. One is just added to his rotation. But Tom proves he’s a decent guy by remarking about his wedding ring to Missy “I’m getting used to it. It’s like a dog with a collar.” Sorry, did I say decent? I meant grotesque. Luann doesn’t want to be all ‘uncool’ so she smiles like a pageant queen who just won runner-up. We see you, Lu Lu. We see you.