Real Housewives of Beverly Hills 3.2 – The Higher The Heels

We are going to fast forward through the lame girl-bitchy B.S. that dominated this episode in order to get to the meat. Yolanda has slipped from grace in the space of half of one episode. Impressive. Also? The return of the two greatest not-Housewives happens – Friend-For-Hire DD and Dana $25K Sunglasses – and I literally kicked my feet in the air, almost spilling my wine.

If Alison DuBois comes back with her electronic cigarettes and her pack of lies, then this world will feel pure and true again.

Can it, you predatory, lying charlatan! I stand by my statements about you!


Kyle heads to some chic children’s store that you can’t afford — no, you can’t. NO. YOU CAN’T. Because tissue tanks start at like $800 and the kids outgrow those things in a few months and it’s just so stupid. I have massive issues with stupidly expensive children’s clothes because I’ve had actual children. They ruin everything. (Especially your lady box, am I right, moms? Why-why is the room so dark? I can’t see anything past my stretch marks…)

Adrienne meets her there, Kyle points out exactly what to buy Portia for her birthday party, and then she immediately asks Adrienne to fix this mess with Lisa because it’s seriously bumming her out. Adrienne goes off on how immature it is, how immature Lisa is, and how she’s, like, totally dating someone in college and those boys like older girls because they don’t wear a lot of makeup on their faces. It is so high school, I can’t even. Whatever, Cher, I’m Audi. [If you don’t know Clueless, then I don’t know YOU.]

Later at Taylor’s house (ick, she’s still there? Oh, right, her husband killed himself at their friend’s house. That was thoughtful. I…I actually mean that; I’m not being a bitch.), she has her housekeeper water down the margaritas. You know, because she doesn’t want people “getting drunk.” Girlfriend, we know you’re having money problems. I know you hid that bottle of Jose Cuervo so they wouldn’t know that you had the housekeeper strain it through a dishtowel to take some of the nasty away. Hey, at least you didn’t buy one of those dreadful frozen margarita buckets, right?

You know who this lipstick looks good on? NO ONE. Also, doesn’t she look so fresh and natural here?

Kyle, Literal-Hotass-Mauricio, and their daughters Sophia and Portia arrive to be told that the menu for the night is Spanish. Or Mexican? Taylor doesn’t know, she’s from Oklahoma and everything there looks the same and her housekeeper made it but she’s from, like, Guatemala (shh!) but that’s kinda Mexican, right? Then Taylor hands over the biggest, stupidest margarita glasses I have ever seen, and I am from Texas. We know big and stupid.

I hate margarita glasses. One, they’re huge and take up valuable real estate in your cabinet. Two, they always tump over (that’s the language of my people, tip + dump = tump) and make a mess, and three, what is this, 1987? Are you going to make me some mozzarella sticks and jalapeno poppers, too? Just pour me a margarita in a 16 oz glass and let me hate myself in the morning like God intended.

Paul and Adrienne show up, they hit the buffet and Paul makes a point of calling Adrienne out for eating like a bird. She scooped, like, four black beans on a plate and sniffed a tortilla chip, so he has a point. Also, people who don’t enjoy food (not people that jam random calories in their faces, but enjoy actual food) tend to not enjoy sex or life. None of these things make sense to me. That is a world in which I do not want to live. Pass the charcuterie platter, please and thank you.

Taylor gets serious at the dining table, saying that her mission in life is to spread the word of God, and have they ever heard of The Watchtower? Before the group can edge out of there, she changes tack and asks if the guys would be interested in supporting a charity that raises money for battered women. It’s “Walk a Mile,” and the guys will walk a mile in heels. Fun. Adrienne says the short heels are “kid heels” – they’re called kitten heels – and they all have some good-intentioned ribbing at how “hilarious” it is for men to wear pumps. RuPaul built an industry on it, mm’kay?

But there’s a huge problem: the charity is at 8am in Sacramento, and Portia’s party is that same afternoon at 12. What can they do? They can say, “Hey, Taylor, that’s awesome that you’re involved and all, but maybe give us more than a two day lead in for a function hours away.” Nope, Kyle actually moves her daughter’s birthday party back an hour so everyone can hop in Adrienne’s private plane and get to both events. That’s very nice, Kyle. I still don’t understand why you all have to do both, but whatever.

Adrienne and Paul head over to WeHo to get some heels and after some hilarious “look at that man in dress shoes!” footage, Paul totally cheats and goes for some KISS-style moon boots. Weak. Adrienne originally found some Dorothy Mary Janes with a square heel – dance/jazz shoe height – that would have been perfect, but the boots are hilarious on tiny Paul. Adrienne buys some to match. Twenty bucks says she won’t wear them. (She doesn’t.)

Over to Yolanda where she has her driver depositing her at the Guess Headquarters, where her stunning daughter Gigi is doing a photo shoot. Seriously, the child is gorgeous. It’s her birthday and there’s some back and forth about all of the junk she and her friends are going to eat that night, her mom smiles and says, “Okay, but then you gotta get back on your diet tomorrow.” And while I hate that with a passion, that is the damn industry.

Then Yolanda tells us that she doesn’t want to be a stage mom, and that she isn’t – she just knows the industry. (Which is true.) She then spends the next hour directing the photoshoot, telling her daughter what she’s doing wrong, how to fix it, tells the makeup artist to “round out her eyes so she doesn’t look so Chinese.” What the actual fresh hell?

“It doesn’t look good for her face.” Hmm. I think I know what she’s trying to say here but it’s so clouded with all of that racist crap that I don’t care to actually listen. Yolanda, I want to love you, but you came off as a bad person here. She mentions that when she was modeling she had no parental support, so she’s clearly making up for lost time with her own daughter. Tip: split the difference and don’t be overbearing. And racist.

Adrienne boards her private jet with Paul, Mauricio and Taylor for their “fun run,” and we learn that Mauricio didn’t have a chance to buy any shoes, so he has to use the ones the charity provides. That’s like using public bowling shoes, Mauricio, and that won’t end well. (He also thinks Paul is a cheater for using moon boots, and I agree.) A lot of high school, “And what did they say about us?” stuff happens with the Bickersons, but I just want to see Mauricio in some shorts, is that so wrong? (And Paul? Seriously. You’re a grown ass man. Quit stirring the Vanderpot.)

Kyle is getting her house set up for a huge event, just like everyone does for a four year old. Portia is adorable, though, so I can forgive most anything. Except the dreadful canned Bruce Vallanch-penned one-liners that Kyle keeps spitting out. STOP. STAHP. The ponies arrive, and Kyle is frustrated to learn that they’re not unicorns. I am not making that up. One, they’re brown. Two, they’re just regular dumb-ass ponies, and she was led to believe that because of her Hollywood connections that Peter Jackson would be doing something here?

Also, do they really have to go on her tennis court? They’re going to poop on it. (God, I hate when that happens, right?) The guy tells her that it will probably wash off. Wow, the disconnect is so freaking funny. And there’s a carnival happening! T-shirt screening! Photobooth! The child is FOUR. And of course there are cocktails for the grownups and I hate this sort of thing with a fiery passion. Hot dogs, bouncy house, family, that’s it. That’s it for FOUR.

Adrienne’s group pulls up to the charity in a stretch Hummer and I’m so busy throwing up that I ignore everything else. Instead of spending money on that (or the gas for your plane) just send the charity the money you would have spent and be done with it. JFC.

Lisa and Ken pull up at the valet stand for the birthday party in their Bentley, saying they have to leave early. Remember, the time was changed two days ago. Lisa has a business event and she’s meant to feel bad for this, because her businesses running isn’t as important as the three minutes she’ll spend with the birthday girl. Lisa deals with all of this by going out front to where the petting zoo creatures are, grabbing the lead to a llama and walking it through Kyle’s house to the backyard. I did not see any nuggets fall, so Kyle should consider herself lucky.

The Llama: ruiner of hardwood floors, spitter of loogies, and notorious cardsharp.

Kyle whines about wanting to have everyone talk (because a child’s birthday party is the time for this); Lisa shuts that down firmly but politely. “No. It’s not your business. That’s when things go awry, when other people step in.” Agreed. Also, where is the rule that everyone has to be friends with everyone else?

The best shot of the night, and I wish so badly that I had the ability to get a screen grab (maybe I’ll take one with my phone for y’all), is of one sad, frustrated brown pony with a literal paper cone tied onto its head, staring at the fence petulantly. There’s your flippin’ unicorn, Kyle.

People start arriving. Brandi comes without her boys (why?), and then miracle upon miracle, Camille Grammar arrives with Friend-For-Hire DDD following in the Queen’s wake. Oh, the glee. Camille totally doesn’t acknowledge DD, always keeping her juuuust out of peripheral vision, and DD continually shifts, trying to stay close to her Master.

Kyle fills Camille in on the poop tower flower arrangement, they turn and walk off, and DD digs her nails into her palms, forcing herself to count to five steps before she follows them. Stupid contract. I’m pretty sure she snatches and eats a spider from the wall to ease her pain of separation.

$25,000 Dana arrives with her miracle child on her hip. He immediately starts reciting Shakespeare in Thai – he’s almost three, after all. It would be embarrassing if he couldn’t by that age. She pulls out her phone with the ‘how much does this cost?’ app and starts cataloging everything in Kyle’s house.

The Morally Corrupt Faye Resnick arrives and looks exactly like she has for the past ten years. Whoever is doing your face is doing a solid job. Brandi sees that all of her frenemies are there and tries to leave. Kyle wants to boss everyone into being friends (she’s that girl) and bullies Brandi into staying put. Hey, no one will start anything at a child’s party, right?

Mauricio arrives as delicious as ever, and Taylor shows up in a band t-shirt or some shit, too. It probably cost $1200 to be “artfully distressed.” She’s without Kennedy. Hmm. (I bet Kennedy came in without cameras on her and Taylor made An Entrance.) Taylor hugs Camille; DD moans in agony. Camille is sitting right next to Brandi [DD is on the grass behind them, waiting for them to move far enough apart so she can slip in next to her One True Love], and Taylor completely ignores Brandi before staggering off for a drink. Brandi gulps, tells Kyle again that she’s going to leave because it’s uncomfortable and it shouldn’t be about that drama (she’s RIGHT.) but again, Kyle tells her to stay. Camille joins in and holy sheep, DD creeps into the shot to be close to Camille, Camille shifts away and DD is left bereft and shooting dirty looks at Kim (who came!) who is now standing next to Camille, because it says in DDs contract that she is Camille’s best friend. Okay? And how does she keep missing her chances to be close enough to The Mother?

If you look closely enough you can see DD’s clawed hand reaching up to grab Camille’s forearm to pull her away from those girls that couldn’t possibly love her like DD loves her.

$25,000 Dana saunters over, already a little “loose-lipped,” and after telling everyone she’s in vintage Valentino footwear and has Prada tampons, she asks Kim if she’s still fucking that janitor or whatever. Kim tries to remember what her PR person fed her earlier and mumbles about respecting each other and being different people and you’re not Bennifer, Kim. Just say you’re not seeing each other anymore. You don’t have Kstew-crazy fans.

Dana sums it up, “So you’re not having sex. Got it.”

Seriously, bring this crazy bitch on full-time.

Brandi manages to slip out and sends a text to Kyle. Kyle reads it out loud to Camille (and DD, because she’s smelling Camille’s armpit in order to bond and recharge). “I don’t want any drama, thank you for the invite, I’m quietly slipping out,” that sort of thing.

Which is nice. And polite. Right? And Kyle is all “Can you believe this?” Yes, Kyle. We can. No one wants to be forced into an unhappy situation, you knucklehead. There are enough people at this gala event that they can be apart, play nice and put in a showing, then leave. Your world isn’t ending.

Kim and Camille head over to the photobooth for a picture, and I just want Kim to self-actualize enough that she for once looks like she knows she can be somewhere. You know? She just looks like a deer trapped in the headlights at all times.

Just a couple of gals having a gal-time! Kim? YOU ARE ALLOWED TO RELAX.

Paul and Adrienne arrive looking for ways to get people on Team Bickerson as Taylor sloshes over to the girls to bad-mouth Brandi. And she doesn’t even get it right (not that Brandi’s nervous babbling was the best thing for her, but she didn’t mean anything by it) saying that Brandi told Yolanda that Brandi has slept with everyone in town. She then brings Adrienne over to go on and on about Brandi (who is Adrienne’s friend, I thought?) being the worst thing since clear heels, and Kyle wanders close enough to realize that she wants no part of this.

Hey, did we all forget that this was a party for a four year old?

The Bickersons then find their moment to shine and turn it all onto them. Lisa is awful and petty and immature and clearly left to avoid them and let me remind you that all of these people are over the age of 40. Adrienne closes her eyes to show how exhausting this all is, and says, “Why hasn’t she moved on?”

GIRL, THAT IS WHAT SHE HAS DONE. Miss Lisa done got over yo ass, and that’s why she doesn’t want to be around you, because why would she want to? I don’t like to hang out with people that accused me of made up stuff, either. Team Vanderpump all the way.

That’s a lie. I’m Team DD/$25K.


Next Week! A complete lack of Alison DuBois, a dinner party at Yolanda’s where her husband tells Taylor (who is drunk) to not sing because every time she does, Celine Dion gets a wrinkle and has another photoshoot with her Crypt Keeper husband in the nude. And Lisa and Adrienne have a sit down! Mostly I want to see if Taylor ends up in a suitcase in the closet.