It happened. I watched an entire episode of The Real Housewives of Potomac and didn’t get the urge to sprint directly into the exposed brick in my New York fishbowl that the real estate market here somehow manages to legally call an apartment. Much of that had to do with two things: the youngest Potomac housewife, Ashley, and brown liquor. Ashley is the least snotty one of the bunch and it brings a much needed remix to the otherwise sad love song this show has become since its debut.
But before we get to Ashley, whiskey-loving wonder, let’s address the person who wears me out most.
“I’ve been a socialite since I was in diapers.”
If show producers opted to never show another scene featuring Katie, I might rise from my chair to give a standing ovation. She’s not a mean person like much of her cast mates, but she does dab all over my nerves all the same. My thing with her is two-fold. She’s very-very-very caught up in dating a white man. There is nothing wrong with a union that may produce an Obama or Mariah, but on this show, which is highly color struck and classist, there’s something so off-putting about the way she more or less acts as if it places her on some pedestal above others.
I cringed a bit when she was hanging out with Ashley and her husband and going on and on about how elated she was to have another interracial couple to hang out with. You know, if your intent is to normalize interracial dating, you should probably treat it as it is: normal now. She almost fetishizes it in a way and I want her to go find something else to forge an identity with.
It’s even more bizarre to see how caught up she is given that Andrew clearly is not interested in marrying her despite her numerous attempts at pushing him into a proposal. He flat out told her last night that had she not nagged him about it for six months, they’d probably already be engaged and subsequently married. Do I believe him? Hell no. You should not have to work that hard to get anyone to marry you.
Then there was this comment: “Andrew has a reputation for being an eligible bachelor in this area, but once this article comes out, everyone’s going to know he is only with me.”
Y’all live together. He takes care of your three children. People still think he’s an eligible bachelor. You have to beg and plead like Brandy to get him to propose to you. He still has not done so.
Katie should go listen to Mary J. Blige and Aretha Franklin’s “Don’t Waste Your Time.” That’s probably too Black for her, though, so I suggest Fiona Apple’s “The First Taste” as an alternate.
So Not Vanessa Williams and Evil Tina Knowles are trying to forgive and forget.
In what I saw as proof of Karen wanting more camera time by refusing to accept Gizelle’s attempt at an apology last week, Karen invited Gizelle for tea and desserts, only they skimmed the latter (at least on camera). The two were civil, respectful of each other’s feelings, and even matched in attire (camouflage) for the occasion. This is how you have an adult frenemy relationship, beloveds.
If you get divorced and sleep in the same bed as your former spouse, you are doing it wrong.
Robyn talks about her ex-husband, Juan, like they’re still a couple. They behave like one i.e. they sleep in the same bed and I presume have the sex, they co-parent, and they talk about potentially moving because one has a potential job offer. This is couple s**t, but they’re no longer legally married. They’re a divorced couple who probably qualify for common law marriage status. Juan is fine as hell, so I can understand the reluctance to exit a bed with him in it, but Robyn, WYD?
Some of this seems financial as she alluded to him no longer getting NBA checks, the Stock Market and real estate market flatlining during The Great Recession, etc. Still boggles my mind, though.
“I’m more of a brown liquor kind of girl.”
First, Robyn is annoying. During her confessional at Ashley’s whiskey tasting, she said, “This seems like a grown-up man thing, and Ashley’s like a little girl.” If the colorism and classism issues aren’t bad enough, now we have to contend with reductive gender roles.
While the ladies acted as if they were drinking deep fried piss, I was sipping some bourbon in solidarity with Ashley. I love brown liquor, too, Ash. I also appreciate Ashley confronting Gizelle about calling her a “THOT.” Gizelle, you married a THOT. Well, alleged THOT anyway. You don’t worry about who she is humping unless she’s actually smashing the person in front of you. I did like the way Karen handled it by making a joke that now that she’s in the circle, if she spots it again, she’ll pull Ashley off.
Karen is somewhat amusing, somewhat cringe-worthy. Technically, that makes her an ideal Real Housewife. Gizelle is just mean with a pretty presentation. Oh, Charrisse was there, too. I’m not a fan, but she made up with Gizelle in a way that reminded me of the time my wisdom teeth were extracted without my morphine kicking in.
Until next time.