Let’s just acknowledge what is blatantly obvious: this sad run sucked from premiere to finale. Without a central conflict or sincere connections between the ladies, RHNY suffered from RHOC syndrome this season. Symptoms include ubiquitous fakery, forced scenes, and contrived melodrama. 
God bless a snotty gay. Alex showed up for her first paid editorial for The Block. After listing a string of third tier shows she walked in during fashion week, James the requisite homo elitist, subtly shamed her by repeating, “Perfect then, Perfect then,” in a bored and disdainful tone. Who can blame him? Alex’s total lack of self-awareness, paired with her whiny pageant dad Simon, makes her an unbelievably easy target for criticism. 
BTW Simon, revealing your wife was chosen 3rd on US Weekly’s worst dressed list isn’t something to brag about in a room of fashion folk. Though she did live up to the title later in the episode by wearing this utterly fug pink double-breasted short suit.
Bravo aired teasers for the finale all week that hinted at a change-of-life baby for Ramona. The preview giveaways meant to build excitement were dubious since everyone is well aware that at 55, the only change of life happening to Ramona is the retirement of her ovaries. Bravo’s last ditch effort to salvage the season with engineered baby drama smacks of desperation.
In another red-herring subplot, LuAnn and Jacques invited the whole crew to a celebration of their one year anniversary. The fiesta was held on a boat ironically destined to sail around the Statute of Liberty, a monument presented to America by the Count’s ancestors, as Ramona pointedly reminded us in her personal interview segment.
Once on board, Ramona pretended to break the potential pregnancy news to Mario. Then she and Sonja flitted off to the “head” like two leopard-clad sorority sisters with an eightball. Sonja conveniently supplied the EPT (how much did they pay for that product placement?), and Ramona supplied the urine.
Sensible Jill (relatively speaking) immediately called bullshit and didn’t hesitate to introduce the more obvious explanation of menopause to account for Ramona’s cyclical irregularity.
For some unbeknownst reason (did Cohen offer her a kidney?), Natalie Cole agreed to make a cameo and sing a duet with LuAnn. Fake-ass LuAnn wouldn’t know Natalie Cole from Natalie Merchant, but she pretended to fawn all over the singer when initially introduced by her opportunistic producer.
Natalie sang decent, LuAnn sounded nervously pitchy, and Simon looked downright bitchy during the performance.
While Jill was hoping for the party to culminate in an engagement announcement, the limp-dick gathering just petered out without any big reveals from either LuAnn or Ramona.
If you are attached to this group of ladies, don’t miss the reunion next week. Chances are it will be the last time you see this ensemble on Cohen’s confrontational couches. This pathetic excuse for a season proved the NYC franchise is begging to be recast. At this point, any change would serve as a welcomed improvement.
Bravo served up another week of mismatched footage, proving the decision to extend filming has failed to provide a narrative arc so desperately needed this season. The thesis of this week’s episode was burlesque by way of Sonja and all that it implies. 
But first, we got a little mother-daughter bonding courtesy of Ramona & Avery, LuAnn & Victoria, and Jill & Ally.
Jill slummed it on the commuter train to visit Ally in Bronxville where she attends college (Sarah Lawrence?) in the affluent suburb. Ally might be my fav among the RHNY offspring, but her meat-eating vegetarian speech was super annoying. Chicken is not a vegetable people! If you eat chicken, fish, or any other creature you are NOT a vegetarian. That’s like saying you’re Kosher except for your penchant for cheeseburgers.
Avery met up with Ramona for the UES equivalent of an afterschool snack. Much like Mario, Avery’s got Ramona completely hosed. With syrupy inflection, Avery read aloud a gushing school report she allegedly wrote about Ramona. Three reasons why this appeared to be complete bullshit: 1) the assignment was far too elementary to have actually been assigned to a high school sophomore at one of the most competitive prep schools in NYC; 2) no 16 year-old cites her mother as her hero without ulterior motive; 3) Avery’s phony-ass delivery smacked of Bravo/Ramona coercion.
The Countess took Victoria for a driving lesson in an icy parking lot. After relaying the basics, LuAnn proved she’s not all boring when she let Victoria hit the gas and zoom from one end to the other.
After some more bland filler, Sonja’s burlesque NYE party commenced. The cast spent the first portion of the party complimenting and then nit-picking each other’s outfits. Most of the audience spent several minutes trying to deduce whether “Tina” was a dude or a chick. 
Of course Sonja did a number. She felt compelled to talk through the performance and throw out little digs at her castmates. Jill and Barshop huddled in the audience trading barbs of their own. It was here that Cindy finally earned her salary and showed a modicum of wit when she delivered the zinger of the season. Sonja busted out the phrase “money can’t buy you class,” in reference to the Countess, and Barshop turned to Jill and said…
Many of you spent the first commercial break on your knees in front of the toilet after Bravo forced us to endure more contrived MILF-themed sexy times between Alex & Simon, Ramona & Mario, and LuAnn & Jacques.
Simon and Alex conjured disgust trying to create mood with clichéd shellfish and lingerie aphrodisiacs. Though it was toast-worthy that: 1) Simon fetched Alex at the airport with roses; and 2) they are one of the few happily married couples in the franchise.
Ramona spread rose petals and waited for Mario to
Ramona set up an easy out, and he of course took the obvious Avery route. Ramona sopped up every drop without hesitation. Mmmdenialmmmdelicious.
Mario looked thrilled and relieved he was off the hook. Almost like he couldn’t believe he’d gotten so lucky….
Nobody gives a fuck about flaky Barshop, but Sonja’s wicked slowburn was uncovered by Cindy while flipping through the photos from Morocco. Sonja cut her out of every one! 
“Let’s just say revenge is best served cold and I enjoyed every moment of cutting her out of the pictures. And I’m going to own it 100%.”
News broke that Sonja filed bankruptcy on some mess of an investment she made in some unfinished, ill-conceived film project. Already informed by the Wall Street Journal, Alex creased her brow, tilted her head, and inquired in a faux-caring tone, “How are you?” The very sound of the question made Sonja want to leap across the table and slap her in the well-meaning face just to clear the echo of the rude intrusion.
Enter Jill, who joined Alex in intensely and invasively interrogating Sonja about her private financial dealings. Jill actually had the nerve to try and “explain” Sonja’s debts to her based on her extensive gossip column research. Sonja should have shut it down from the get; her money ain’t none these bitches’ biznass anyway.
The Cuntess cruised in and completed the coven. The purpose of the gathering was that Jill invited everyone but Ramona (and Kelly who didn’t show) to preview her shapewear line. Neither Bethenny nor Jill’s collections seem to bring any new colors or styles to the compression undergarment scene. How many Spanx knock-offs does the world need?
After the girdle summit, Alex met up with Ramona. Alex wasted no time in tattling that Jill had excluded Ramona from the panty party. Ramona was predictably and naturally pissed. However, ultimately all of this was overshadowed by Ramona’s deformed (she had it coming) Gelfling-esque upper lip which completely dominated the entire scene.
Alex is hellbent on creating as many on-screen opportunities as possible this season, so she invited the Cuntess to coffee under the pretense of clearing the air over their argument in Morocco. Eager to deliver an obviously rehearsed monologue, Alex dispensed with the small talk and launched into a lengthy and unnecessary introduction before Miss Manners interrupted her. 
Clouded by fame-seeking, once again, Alex’s strategy backfired and left her showing her ass. The Cuntess couldn’t give a royal fart over outer-borough Alex. Even though Alex and Simon probably ran lines in preparation, Alex was still tongue-tied and outmatched in bitchery. Her best moment was calling LuAnn rude in response to an aesthetic attack on her footwear. Predictably, the curtain closed when the Cuntess swept out with a flourish of the cape and a flip of her duck-butt hair.
This week’s episode picked up at the fortuneteller’s table, where Ramona feebly attempted to distract from the medium’s message by offering every possible alternative other than the most obvious likelihood of Mario’s philandering.
Out of Ramona’s earshot, Jill murmured to her circle that she’d heard rumors of Mr. Singer’s infidelity. Sonja’s reaction also signaled that she had intel which may further support the prediction. Ramona focused on damage control, more concerned about how the news might impact sales of her fug jewelry than where Mario’s currently corking his Pinot.
The band of bourgeoisa headed for the legendary and historic souq. Sonja, very inconspicuous adorned in all white with a textured fishing hat, clutched her straw bag, apparently concerned one of the locals might wrestle her to the ground for its priceless contents.
Barshop’s brazillian began to chafe in the desert heat, so she directed her discomfort into a confrontation with Sonja over some petty bullshit no one really cares about. The loud scene caused Kelly to shift her voice into nasal-bad-mommy mode and command that everyone “get along.”
As part of her ho stroll for the Morocco National Tourist Office, LuAnn arranged camel rides for the ladies. Not long into the jaunt, Morocco’s most discerning dromedary decided the Cuntess could kiss sand and gave her a ride worthy of the Saddle Ranch on a Saturday night. Once steadied, LuAnn dismounted and was too shaken to notice the camel boy copped a feel.
The caravan arrived at a tent oasis for a traditional Moroccan feast. Jill challenged each lady to confess an unknown tidbit, but most recapitulated unilluminating incidental details or ill-timed sad childhood memories.
As all group dinners do with this crowd, the lively discussion soon amplified into a full-on cacophony of shouting. Cindy couldn’t take the crossfire and fled into the unlit terrain, oblivious to the potential dangers of scorpions and other creatures emerging for their evening meal.
The tent supper turned out to be more refugee than world-renowned once it hit the gut because both Ramona and Sonja awoke the next morning with a serious case of the faucet ass. The unaffected hit the hamam and enjoyed a traditional scrub and tub. When sufficiently plied with Imodium, Sonja and Ramona followed.
Back at the riad, Jill tippity tapped on Ramona’s door to commence the long overdue discush causing tension to swell between the two. Ramona’s still sore about comments Jill made at Jennifer’s wedding and her own vow renewal last year. Jill is (rightfully) angry at Ramona for rudely dismissing her and Bobby in St. John. Jill fixated on the notion that St. John was her last chance to reconcile with Bethenny, and therefore blames Ramona for the lost friendship. Side note: who actually says picayune?
Ramona weaseled out of actually apologizing by using the classic, “I’m sorry you feel that way.” A line she surely picked up from years of arguing with Mario.
Fury filled Jill as all the feelings of hurt and humiliation surfaced. In an inexcusably bad outfit, Jill proclaimed that without an apology, the two could never be friends.
Unrelenting in her position, Ramona stood up and slung a few back, including the predictable: “You’ve changed, everyone’s said it.”
So overworked she thought she might have a heart attack, Jill stomped off in her stilettos intent on calling Bobby. She left Ramona in tears convulsing on the true star of the scene, a gorgeous traditional Moroccan bedspread.
This week on the season finale, Jill and Bethenny finally sat down for their long-awaited confrontation at Le Cirque. Jill nervously prattled on doing her usual yenta small talk shtick before she eventually got down to it.
She weakly apologized for not being ready to accept Bethenny’s apology at Ramona’s (which is basically a bullshit non-apology). Bethenny found the small talk more unnerving than confrontation, so she dove in and labeled Jill disloyal and the disintegration of the relationship equivalent to divorce.
Neither of the two wanted to dredge up the past, but unless they level with each other the relationship can’t move on. Jill can throw as many potato latkes at the situation as she wants, but Bethenny doesn’t give a fuck. Scorpios never let things go.
Bethenny, a cold-hearted bitch to the core, didn’t even soften in the face of Jill’s prostrate humility. Mostly because Bethenny believed that Jill’s motives were more self-serving than sincerely contrite.
At La Pomme, the Cuntess busted out her glitter pants for the big debut of her new single Money Can’t Buy You Class.
We finally got to meet LuAnn’s new boyfriend, the French Fonze. The Cuntess bubbled with mid-life puppy love for her new beau as she proudly introduced him around the crowd.
As for the performance, it sounded like the Cuntess sang over a vocal track, and for a second I thought I had accidentally switched to RuPaul’s Drag Race.
We met up with Bethenny and Jason moving out of her UES apartment in favor of larger Soho cohabited square footage. This segment proved that Bethenny’s been holding out all season. Should we resent the fact that she’s obviously saved all the good stuff for her spin off?
Jill surprised Ramona to congratulate her and provide the requisite pre-ceremony fawning. Jill said something worth emphasizing.
Despite vow renewal fatigue, Ramona and Mario moved the crowd to tears with words of their devotion. Avery was skeptical about her Mom’s intentions for this vow renewal, but Ramona managed to wring some sincere sentiment from the event.
Waterworks aside, a woman in her fifties prancing down a staircase in a feathered white wedding gown is a definite dignity issue. Do I even need to comment on the fucking dog?
The matrimonial outpouring of emotion triggered a chain reaction at the reception, and one by one the ladies coupled up to reconcile their differences.
Kelly and Ramona bonded over a book of St. John photos Kelly put together. Nice gesture Kelly, way to wrap things up on a good note.
Bethenny pulled Ramona and Alex aside and spewed a bunch of emotional back-handed compliments about how surprised she was they were here for her this year. Ramona summed it up when she said, “Now you know, you can trust us,” before the three hugged it out.
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