Real Housewives of Beverly Hills 2.12 – Adrienne’s Fashion Show

"Yeah, I'm gonna have to cut this short." (there's a daaaark joke there, if you're willing to see it.)

Jumping right in this week! Lisa meets Pandora at home where Bobby Trendy is there to force Lisa into a million dollar wedding. They chose the shirt box invites, but they’re made for Pandora in white silk roses with a pale pink satin ribbon and rhinestones on the outside, and when you open it, the invitation is there with rose petals. Tres expensive. I mean, elegant. 

A caterer is waiting in the kitchen, and Bobby is fanning himself, as the things he’s making are “Fab-oh-less.” Some mixologist has fashioned some hootch especially for them involving liquid nitrogen, infused vodka and champagne. Lisa says, “It’s like a pharmacy. I just want a drink!”

It’s almost rose-scented pure grain alcohol. Hell, get people drunk enough, you can skimp on everything else, they’d never remember the party.

Across the street, Adrienne meets with “her team” because she has a new shoe line she wants to design. Or tell them to design for her. Same thing. She says she wants to love it (uh, obviously?) but it has to be practical. When have 6 inch stilettos ever been practical? Awesome, yes. Practical?

She has pulled a bunch of shoes from her closet to show them what she likes. Louboutin, Choo, Gucci, well no shit, we all like those, lady! What are YOUR designs? The only thing she’s come up with is that she wants a Krugerrand with her name on the outside and a diamond in the middle to be her logo, and wants them to slap it on the underside of the shoe.

Some helper minion has an orgasm at the thought of diamonds on the soles of their shoes (oh wah oh wah oh wah.) She’s all, “Ah mah ghad, ah lahv it!” Adrienne’s ego has been fed today, you are all dismissed. (And I worked in a Paul Simon joke there, because I’m fresh to death. Kids like Paul Simon, right?)

Taylor and Russell head to their osteopath for a therapy session. Ridiculous-nonsense says what? Well there’s your problem, Taylor, you’re not going to an actual therapist. She and Russell hold hands as they talk about how they want to be successful together, or be apart successfully. “We clearly love each other,” she says.

Doc is all askance, “Uh, how do you know that?”

Um.

Then they dance around the fact that the doctor is aware that Russell “gets mean and angry and nasty” and that Russell needs to figure out why that is how he behaves and work on not, you know, being mean and nasty when he’s angry. Meanwhile, Taylor sits in her chair, lethargic. It sounds like they’re spitting back a bunch of “therapy speak” but I’m not buying it.

Taylor says to the doctor that she just wants to sweep it all under the rug and move past it, but the doctor says, “Well, that’s childish.” AND THEN. Russell checks his watch. “Well, I have a meeting, so I need to go.” Wow, dude. Wow.

Back at Chateau du Vanderpump, the catering selections continue apace. Scallops! Yum. Seared tuna! Yes, please! Lamb shanks! Um…well, Giggy nibbles on a bone and loves it, so? Bobby Trendy waves his hands back and forth because everything is so Chi Chi and points at some tacky-ass electric blue cotton candy plunked in some martini glasses, looking like nothing more than insulation that fell into some bar-ware. Tack. Ee. Lisa uses the opportunity to mimic Taylor from a few episodes ago gobbling a long, thick, wad of spun sugar like Jenna Jamison.

Kyle meets Brandi for a manicure – Taylor bailed on them. They make the best of it and try to continue repairing the damage done. Brandi wants to throw a party in Malibu for the gang, trying to repair those fences as well. But…what about a BJ learning shindig? She knows a porn star and… What?

Kyle, looking horrified, is not down with that and makes a broad sweeping statement that there’s no way the others would go for it, besides, they all should know how to do that by now. “Well, she’s a porn star, I’m sure she can teach us some new things.”

Raise your hand if you feel denied of the fab-oh-lessness that would be Adrienne giving a dildo the stink eye, Lisa cupping imaginary balls and laughing, and Taylor looking around with a dildo-shape wedged half-way down her throat? Because I feel denied.

Meanwhile, Mauricio feels a tremendous sense of loss and can’t understand why…

It’s time for Adrienne’s Fashion Show. Oh, yeah, she’s having a fashion show? Because there’s a charity that supports young girls going into the business arts? And Adrienne feels deeply about it? So she’s making shoes, and they’ll be debuted at the show, and money will be raised for the girls. Okay.

I guess women in Beverly Hills have nothing better to do than ride people’s asses to work faster, because she is shocked – shocked! – that everything isn’t set up hours before it’s to be set up. So they continue setting it up while she asks if they’re going to set it up and CHRIST ALMIGHTY LET THEM WORK. She does admit to being a micro-manager. Paul leans his head in and says, “That’s what she says!” and ducks to avoid the knife that is a cutting look from Adrienne Maloof.

Question: does she own stock in Angel Champagne? Because there’s a MONUMENT to a bottle of it outside, and I don’t get it. Oh, and it’s still light out and the party is all set up and ready to go. Good thing you made everyone feel stressed out, Adrienne!

Taylor and Russell head out in a car, and it’s weird that Russell’s going because he never goes to things. He does tell her she looks beautiful in her Rachel Zoe homage ensemble. Taylor says that she’s caused tension with her husband because she talks to her friends about him. Um. She also says she’s stressed about running into Camille, because of the whole “I know your husband beats you” thing. That little thing, you probably don’t even remember it.

Russell says with a straight face (but then, he’s had some work done) that Camille said things that are “blatantly false.” He tells Taylor to rise above it. They swing by Kyle’s house to pick her and Mauricio up. Kyle, I love her. I didn’t, then I did. But that DRESS. Oh, the lime green gown with the horrid bodice of bagginess… It makes her breasts look like Strega Nona in evening wear.

Also, ladies? Spanx. Just wear them. You’ll be uncomfortable for a bit, but you will photograph wonderfully. Curves are great, but you don’t want to look like you’ve got bread dough rising over the pan, you feel me?

Lisa swans across the street in an utterly glorious violet one-sleeved gown, and Dear Gods I Don’t Believe In: please let me age as beautifully as Lisa Vanderpump, Amen. Ken and Mohammed (of the sex cave and 60,000 sq ft home) escort her over.

Adrienne immediately pulls Lisa aside to say how hurt she was that Lisa didn’t ask her to roll out the red carpet and put up her daughter and her 20 best friends for three days in the penthouse suite with everything comped. How dare Lisa not ask that. And then Adrienne says something to the affect of we all know you’re not afraid to ask for things, please. What’s one more begging session from you?

Well, when you put it that way… Don’t these people rehearse what they’re going to say like the rest of us? Lisa says she’s sorry for offending her, and in a voice over says, “Well, I have a lot of dodgy relatives coming in for Christmas, maybe she’d like to host that?” Ahaha. All the love forever for Lisa.

Adrienne thinks it’s just pure marketing, forgetting that this is someone’s daughter getting married.

Camille arrives and is accosted by Adrienne’s creeper publicist who says her coat “shows a lot of good leg.” Um, thanks. I’ll just… not be here with you, bye! Taylor runs into her outside the bathroom and they hem and haw and say they’ll talk later, but not here. The producers must have been so disappointed.

Camille hangs with Brandi, and they seem to be having fun. I bet Camille would have loved the blow job party, she would have brought DD out of hiding and made DD do something really degrading to remind her of her place in society. And then Alison Dubois would show up and tell them all that she’s seen that none of them will ever emotionally satisfy their men, ever. Right, Alison?

Medium/Life Coach Alison Dubois

and then NeNe would have come from Atlanta to back me up and been all, OH, HALE naw!

No. NO. Uh uh. Oh, no. HALE no.

I’m sorry. I just like pretending. I need to because we get five minutes of Adrienne bitching about which side will my celebratory champagne come on, the right or left?! And her manager drools all over her for being so inspiring to the girls by having her name on a big sign she paid for and just look at how amazing you are for doing this charity event-slash-marketing campaign! Adrienne “Mother Teresa” Maloof, am I right?! She eats this up with a spoon, of course. “YES. I TRULY AM A WORK AND A WONDER. And if that god damn champagne glass comes on the left, I am going to cut someone’s head off and puke down their throat hole. Let’s think of the children!”

The fashion show begins and Lisa notes that everyone is in long (fabulous, excuse me, fab-oh-less) gowns and you can’t see the shoes. Lisa was here for the Maloof Hoof, dammit! Seriously, though, the clothes are gorgeous. They’re Kevan Hall, and he makes lovely ephemeral clothing.

Adrienne tells us that the focus was the charity, not her shoes. Even though the event was to show her shoes, so they’d sell, so she could give the money to the charity. I guess I’m not classy enough to understand this, so excuse little white trash me. I’m just sitting here eating biscuits and mustard like some slingblade. (Some folks call me a Kaiser blade.)

 

Next week! Brandi’s party with no dildos in sight! Wait, nope, Taylor is losing her shit, so… And really, Taylor flips the hell out, even more than before! Stick a feather in a bottle of Korbel, we’ll pretend we’re drinking Angel Champagne.

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  • eh. meh. ged. I am so sad that we were not blessed with the great BJ Party of the Century.

    So. Sad.

    But you know what made me even sadder? The realization that Alison Dubois and NeNe didn’t show up in this show. Because seriously? THAT would have been worth watching over and over and over.

    • THERIOUTHLY. Because come on, a porn star is going to know more than those ladies. UNLESS THEY WERE ONCE PORN STARS. Oh, I see.

      I need Alison to come back like I need this fifth of vodka. WHICH YOU KNOW I NEED.