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.
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