After a goodly amount of time spent raising much-needed cash for my kids’ schools the last week plus, I’m back to wasting brain cells on the trivial issues of a bunch of humorless, overindulged nitwits on the west coast. Last week Eileen schmaltzily dumped her dear deceased sister’s ashes off a balcony and down the side of a cliff (and possibly down the shirt of one or two passersby below); Lady Pump spilled the beans that Mo Hadid says #2 and Anwar are perfectly healthy, at least as far as he knows; and Kathryn and The Morally Corrupt Faye Resnick, who is about to get a new nickname, had their first face-to-orange-face encounter despite their lives being inextricably entwined 20+ years ago when OJ first brought us the Kardashians. So much to thank him for.
At the Palais du Pump, Kyle is swinging over to collect Lady Pump for a field trip to plan their mutual anniversary party, but not before Lady Pump is going to snap her head off for inviting That Orangutan to the not-the-least-bit-casual catered event involving some grilled foods Kyle tried to pass off as a “barbecue” last week. Barbecues involve children, dogs, and husbands manning the grill. This was basically a She-show all about seeing what each other was wearing and not eating. Not a BBQ. Anyway, Kyle fully intends to invite That Orangutan to the anny party, so Lady Pump demands to know how Kyle’s gonna feel when Lady Pump invites “Witchypoo” to the party, too. Who is Witchypoo? Oh, that Carlton person from several seasons ago?
Not THAT Carlton. This one:
Gawd, I’d forgotten how truly ghastly that woman looks. I can’t wait for her to show up so we can compare her rock-hard tatas and collapsing face to Lipsey, who is holding up so much better and I think might actually be older.
Anyway, off they go, bickering all the way, to check out an old hotel as a possible site for their shared “Moulin Rouge”-style dual anniversary party (the Umanskys’ 20th; the Pumps’ 33rd). Because nothing says Marital Bliss Forever like absinthe and premature death crossed with over-the-hill bags dolled up in trashy rental costumes. Free your Lady Marmalade!
Speaking of trashy costumes, Erika Girardi visits Yo in the ‘Bu and they go for a walk. Per Yo, this is her first walk, her first venture OUTSIDE, since she became ill. Or at least since three episodes ago when Erika and Yo walked ten feet with Kyle in a park. Yo is ALIVE, y’all, and ready to shout it from the rooftops like she’s in a James Cameron movie. Are her explanted boobs being intentionally blurred out? This is more than just weak cell phone shots of my TV here.
They walk, they sit, their butts get wet, and Erika silkily spills the beans that after Yo left the Not-B-Q last week, “someone” whose name might rhyme with Dump – OKAY, it was Lady Pump! – said that #2 and Anwar don’t have Lyme Disease. Yo is shocked. Erika helpfully loops Kyle into this mess, and more helpfully fails to clarify that Lady Pump was answering someone’s question what #2 and Anwar’s dad Mo has to say about them having Lyme. (And whether Mo is outright disputing Yo’s claim of diagnosis or just hasn’t spoken of it is also rather relevant.) Yo announces that rather than talking about her peculiar illness, these bitches ought to be out there waiting on her hand and foot like Florence Nightingale. I think expecting any friend to empty your bedpan is a wee bit beyond reasonable. Also, why didn’t Erika’s makeup gay do something about the mascara smudged all over her lids?
Yo, of course, is not wearing any. Makeup is toxic, and takes away from the I’M SICK effect.
Later, Lipsey swings out to Pasadena to check out the GirardiDome and consult on how exactly to get back into the grace of Yo, who she has offended by “engaging in chatter” about Munchausen’s Syndrome. Best dressed BH ‘Wife, for sure.
You just cannot go wrong in DVF and Erika Girardi might want to think about that because she’s wearing a leopard print jumpsuit from Boston Proper and and I do not have the faintest idea why.
No excuse. I just think Erika could do better by our eyeballs. We deserve better.
Erika takes Lipsey on a house tour and Lipsey oohs and ahhs at the “old money done right” vibe. I think it looks like a hotel, personally, with the exception of The Chapel.
Oh, and also the neon nudie portraits of Erika in most every room. I’d call this all “new money spent widely”. But whatever, at least it’s furnished, unlike some of the living arrangements we’ve seen on many a Housewife franchise. Lipsey thinks Lady Pump’s house looks like a “disco” by comparison which is not exactly accurate, except to the extent that Lady Pump’s house looks like a lot more FUN.
Erika escorts Lipsey to the patio/lanai/veranda/promenade with its new Cost Plus throw pillows on the outdoor couch, and presents a vast buffet that goes untouched as Lipsey nervously makes her case about how she got Munch’ed. Lipsey correctly points out that Yo puts information and images out there, and people respond and react. (Yes.) And that someone – who goes unidentified but I suspect WHO that someone is might be a very crucial and controversial detail – reacted by starting a conversation with Lipsey along the lines that maybe Yo isn’t sick, maybe it’s Munchausen’s, and Lipsey “engaged” in that conversation/speculation. And now she’s turribly turribly contrite. Erika tells Lipsey to just tell Yo that and she’ll be forgiven. And they all just need to “get over it”, because there’s no point in belaboring the Yognosis any further. Whether the underlying problem is leaky bags of rubbery plastic or nibbly ticks, something has got her.
So off Lipsey goes to her next stop on the Lipsey Rinna Apology Tour, the YoCondo. Yo greets Lipsey, bearing the gift of George Clooney’s fancy tequila (which they all drank at the cocktail gathering after the Hero Dogs excursion, too – are we placing a product? And just how does Lady Pump feel about that?) which Yo instantly declines. She is too sick for tequila shots, thank you. Also, it’s before noon.
So they sit with coffee in Yo’s kitchen, and Lipsey starts going down the same explanatory route she did with Erika about how it all started with the selfies Yo posts on Instagram all day every day. “And why do you think I do that?” snaps Yo, before going into some ramble about ‘Hollywood’ friends as opposed to what one assumes are ‘real’ friends, and I don’t really know what the point she’s making here is meant to be unless it’s along the lines of Lipsey deciding which one she’s gonna be. I feel like a lot of this conversation got edited out, but eventually Lipsey makes her profuse apology with a whole lotta acknowledgments of her flaws, which earns her a snap that she should “stop judging until she’s perfect”. Funnily enough, I do feel I know a Dutch gal who does a fair amount of judging herself. But she’s, as we know, a smart, powerful woman. Just ask her.
Let’s move on to the Anny Party! As inappropriate as I think it is for 45+ year old women to be frolicking in fancy underpants in mixed company, it seems even more so for a 45 year old MOM to be asking her 1st grader how she looks in her getup. But Lil’ Portia is Kyle’s second best accessory (after her hair, of course).
Erika just looked like she does on Thursdays. This is the weirdest vehicle. What’s with the scalloped second row jump seat that Kathryn’s husband is all squnched up in? Also, I am having a hard time believing he’s in his mid-30s. I don’t think he grows facial hair yet.
Lipsey looked HAWT and babe-a-licious, but how can she not with that body? That ain’t just yoga.
So this celebration of marital bliss involves Camille performing her weird strip club dance moves, lots of boobies nearly escaping their containment systems, and many, many splits from Kyle.
At least it does not involve So Morgan’s bruised ass.
Eventually, That Orangutan shows up. Lady Pump greets her frostily, but politely. Soon after Lady Pump and Kyle take a break on a weird couch to catch their breaths and pop a Geritol, and Kyle pats Lady Pump on the back for being nice enough to That Orangutan. Kathryn, who is sitting on the other end of this bench, breaks in and pipes up that she doesn’t see why ANYONE has to be nicer to That Orangutan than That Orangutan was to anyone else in capitalizing on tragedy and destroying relationships for self-promotional purposes.
Kyle, is, as always, aghast, and as there’s really nothing she can say to defend Faye or controvert any of Kathryn’s assertions, she resorts to getting mad at Lady Pump for failing to back her up. She thinks Kathryn was rude at Kyle’s own party and Lady Pump should have forced her to behave. Lady Pump sniffs and tells Kyle she’s a big girl, if she wants to hang with deeply polarizing bitches then she can deal with the consequences. Kyle gets all threatening about how the last time Lady Pump liked a new girl more than Kyle she got all Glandzed and we know how that turned out. Child, please. Not the same.
Next time: Erika brings everyone to her “show” in San Diego, where The Yo Strikes Back.