Neither Real Nor Housewives: Bravo’s Bitches, Botox & Brawls Formula for Success

I thank these tanned gladiators of Beverly Hills for rising up to the challenge. Every generation gets the heroes it deserves

Sometimes, I just get tired of thinking. I mean, it’s not like every day is all about deciphering ancient texts or finetuning astrophysical formulas but a girl gets weary. When I come home, there are times that shows like “Damages,” “Mad Men,” “Breaking Bad” and “In Treatment” demand too much from me and I want to be immersed in a fantastical world far from any reality.

There are entire cable channels devoted to soothing the tired beast, but none has perfected the art of meaningless bitchery smothered in overcompensating riches like Bravo. The jewel of their very shiny crown is the Housewives franchise, with this season’s introduction of the Beverly Hills six horsewomen of surgical enhancement as the ultimate in escapist TV.

What is it about the “Beverly Hills Housewives” that makes for mesmerizing viewing? For starters, the women themselves (the term ladies doesn’t apply) are wonderful as characters and caricatures. We have Kyle and Kim Richards, former child stars, Paris Hilton aunts and squabbling siblings. There’s Adrienne Maloof, of the Vegas Maloofs, who works in the family business and seems to have a personal philosophy that everything’s better when it’s shiny.

Taylor Armstrong, of the non-famous husband and smaller home, overcompensates wildly for her “poverty” by reducing some body parts while inflating others. Lisa Vanderpump, whose upper crust British accent adds a much needed touch of faux elegance to the proceedings, is a restaurateur who loves to encase herself in pink. But the ne plus ultra Housewife is Camille Grammer, the soon to be ex-wife of Kelsey, who sees herself as Mother Teresa reincarnated in the body of a Playmate.

What sets this coven apart from the other “Housewives” (NY, NJ, OC, DC, ATL) is the proximity of glamour and the scope of the wealth. Lisa and Adrienne have Beverly Park type maisons, that can best be described as Versailles-esque. Taylor and Kim represent the lower end of the spectrum, making do with homes that have just the right number of bedrooms but won’t make anyone gnash their veneers in envy. Kyle edges them out with a home that despite housing four kids, seems ready for a magazine shoot on any given Wednesday. But Camille and ‘her properties,’ too numerous to count or mention really give the phrase “royalties” a whole new meaning.

But the show is not all shallow girls’ weekends in Vegas, shopping trips and spa days. I mean, of course, it’s that but there’s so much more. Or less, depending on how you look at it. Everything is a competition, whether it’s shiniest/longest hair (a real white-knuckler), thinnest thighs, best husband, greatest kids. And yes, I did put that in order of importance.

Kim, who seems to have her own melancholy soundtrack, is constantly berated by Kyle for making poor relationship decisions (although I don’t see how marrying into and divorcing out of the Davis clan can be considered anything besides a coup). Camille is ready to duke it out with anyone who dares insinuate that Kelsey is the major draw in that relationship and enjoys giving “notes” to “writers” about “projects.”

Lisa enjoys lording her pre-Beverly Hills “English country side” life over the colonists. Adrienne, who manages to gild even her hair, wishes her plastic surgeon husband didn’t want to spend so much time together. Taylor doesn’t seem to realize that the husband that she describes as a take-charge Don Draper looks more like the guy who got stuffed into lockers in junior high. Self-awareness is a very fluid state in Housewives land.

It’s only been three weeks but there are already storms a’brewing because brawls and bullying are a staple of the “Housewives” formula. If you survived being a pre-teen girl, you’ve already lived through your own personal world war and all the PSA’s about bullying aren’t going to do a thing to change that. Although armistices and treaties may have been signed with previous enemies, there is a potential for guerilla warfare to break out at any given moment, in any environment.

There’s nothing as strong as the “Housewives” franchise for making a case pro-women in combat. They just wage war in different settings, with other weapons and wear dressier camouflage.

Much like a great horror movie, the Housewives bring to life all your fantasies – wealth, beauty, fame – and then goes about ripping into all of it with a very rusty chainsaw. There’s a cruel kind of catharsis in that and I’m not ashamed to say that it’s entertaining, much like the Christians vs. Lions spectacles were for the Romans. The major difference, besides Botox, is that all these victims wannabe stars signed up for this, despite having witnessed the wreckage of past contenders.

So I thank these tanned gladiators of Beverly Hills for rising up to the challenge. Every generation gets the heroes it deserves.

Housewives of Beverly Hills is on Bravo, Thursdays at 10 p.m. Champagne wishes & caviar dreams.

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