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Luann is peeved that she gave Bethenny a purse and was bringing up old shit.
They get into it right there, but just as quickly, it ends. It’s a display of vulnerability that makes you uncomfortable, like seeing your mother in her bra. She’s supposed to stoically stand there and pass judgment. Is it a bald-faced attempt to get on Bethenny’s good side by making her feel guilty? But I’m going to give the Countess the benefit of the doubt and say that she’s struggling with singlehood and having an empty nest and really just wanted to hang out with some real friends.
Jules truly is brave for putting herself in a position where her appearance will be publicly scrutinized.
As a result of that, I’m not going to comment on or make fun of the way she looks or her relationship to food.
I urge you to do the same, my faithful members of the Real Housewives Institute. How can we call Faye Resnick “morally corrupt” unless we can ride in on a high horse? She is obviously playing up certain things about her life for attention (and, of course, for the cameras).
The best example of this is when Jules plunges her arms into the ice bucket after she touches shrimp at Dorinda’s book party. If she really felt that badly, she could have gone into the bathroom and washed herself.
(Ramona is a mess, but she is Ramona, through and through.) When a new Housewife tries to create a false persona in order to be “good TV,” we end up with Aviva Drescher, who throws her leg in a public space and is run out of town, leaving the fumes of desperation behind for everyone to choke on.
Her worst comment of the night is when she criticizes Bethenny’s house and says that she has old money and Bethenny has new money.
Of course, this all went down at Ramona’s annual birthday lunch at Chat Noir, where 50 women were crammed cheek-to-surgically-removed jowl at long tables. She was wracked with doubt to the point of immobility.
This is ironic because Bethenny is the one with the “small,” understated, entirely classy home in the Hamptons. She’s the one who acts like the nouveau riche, not Bethenny.
The fact that she can’t realize the difference between class and size shows how little taste she has.
That is Sonja, and telling her to chill a bit is sort of like telling Charlie Sheen that he should only sleep with two hookers a week.
It’s not an indictment of a lifestyle, just a plea to slow down.
She’s not continuously defending her boyfriend who lies to the world about having cancer like Vicki Gunvalson. On the spectrum of Housewives crimes, being a phony is a five on a scale of one to 10.