It is a well-known fact that I’m completely obsessed with
reality TV. I can barely watch regular TV and I think I could literally host a
television show about anything on the Bravo network so if Andy Cohen ever gets
the stomach flu, I could be his substitute at a moment’s notice. It’s sad and
magnificent at the same time. My friends and I have full in-depth conversations
about our favorite shows and then we feel like losers but we continue watching
anyway. Hell, why not? It’s not like I don’t read books also! (Mostly
cookbooks.) The good news is that the only American station I have in Paris is CNN
so I get my forced daily dose of current events so don’t worry. By the way, I
am most likely going to make the effort to vote for Donald Trump from all the
way overseas… Just for fun. What do I care, I live in France. It will be like a
whole new reality show. I watch Hulu as well but Hulu has American commercials
and watching ads for Totino’s pizza rolls and Jack-in-the-Box greasy tacos and jalapeño
poppers is just making me homesick and sad so I have to limit my time on Hulu.
I am getting a bit weary with The Housewives. They’re not
rich enough anymore and I’m getting bored. And no one has slapped anyone in a
very long time. But don’t get me wrong, I still watch every episode and my daughter
and I are currently binge watching the Real Housewives of New York starting
with Season One. I scared myself the other day because I realized that Kelly Bensimon
and I have similar personalities. #ScaryIsland.
So, when Ladies of London began Season Two I was as thrilled
as all get go. Finally, some class. Ha ha ha, I’m laughing as I write that but we
have to admit that it is a step up from Ramona’s Pinot Grigio, Vicki’s fake
flowers, Tamra’s white trash gym, Teresa’s prison sentence, Nene thinking that
she’s rich but still lives in a subdivision, Countess Lou Anne’s turquoise statement
necklaces, Brandy’s rental houses and Kyle’s faux St. Tropez white parties in
her backyard.
Ladies of London makes me want to live in London so badly.
It’s all cozy, tea time, turtleneck sweaters and fireplaces. It makes me want
to go to the Chelsea Flower Show, inherit a country house and hire Amanda
Brooks “to do the yard.” And whoever wrote the Ladies of London theme song is
genius.
I am even going to go out on a limb and say that I like Ladies
of London better than all the Housewives combined. Even if the Ladies of London
argue, at least there’s a slightly intelligent conversation behind it except
when Jules cried about Caroline telling her that she didn’t do a headstand as
fast as Caroline. And I don’t give a shit if she has hypersensitive whatever.
For fucks sake, get a grip and learn how to make hot chocolate by the way. Your
children will thank you.
You know how everyone resonates with certain characters.
Like on Sex and the City, which character describes you best? Or are you a
combination? I am a combination of Carrie and Charlotte. On Ladies of London, I
think I’m a combination of Caroline, Caroline and Annabelle.
Caroline Stanbury. My favorite character. I call them
characters because I don’t actually think that they are real. I used to think
she’s fat but she’s not, she’s actually super skinny, it’s just that her head,
lips and ego are so big and that’s exactly what I like about her. In my
delusional fictional life, Caroline S. and I are besties except that I hate the
decor of her house but don’t tell her I said that. And by the way, if she is so
rich, why isn’t her sweet husband financially bailing out her company, Gift
Library, that is about to tank? #JustAsking.
Caroline Stanbury
Caroline Fleming I love because she can decorate, cook, dress
and doesn’t give two fucks about anything. She doesn’t have to because she is Danish
royalty. I do like how she gives everyone very genuine and real hugs. My
favorite thing about her so far was when she just talked right over her
therapist during her session. We both have a common love of coconut oil but I
only use it for cooking. And I absolutely adore the way she doesn’t answer her
doorbell until about the fourth ring after she’s finished everything she was
doing. And honestly, I have never seen better blonde hair in my entire life.
#Jealous
Caroline Fleming
Marissa. Hate. Everything. About. Her. My entire body
cringes when I hear her fake English accent. Except that I love that she
probably writes handwritten thank you notes and probably has everything
monogrammed. I do like her husband a lot. He seems sweet and supportive of her
hotdog dreams. #IWouldBullyHerInAmerica
Marissa
Juliet. Besides the fact that I cannot tell her apart from
Jill Kargman, I can’t tell if I like her or not. No, I just made up my mind. I
don’t like her. She’s a brown noser and I don’t think she truly expresses her
real feelings because she’s afraid of Caroline S. I do, however, adore her
little daughter Georgina. I wish they would just replace Juliet with her little
girl as a main character. #AnnoyingAsFuck
Juliet
Jules. This is the girl that I relate to the least. She
literally has no balls even if she bakes balls. My friend LC described her
best: “…About that, yoga girl cries (and JESUS what
an ugly crier, stop already!) and everyone is appalled. Would you cry if
your husband was going to inherit Mapperton? No. I mean, we'd cry
about the bills, but fuck that we'd be cajoling, stealing or whatever we had to
do to get that Green Chinoiserie Bedroom back up to speed. For fucks
sake.” #TooSensitive
Julie
Annabelle. Love because first of all my grandmother’s name was
Annabelle and secondly I like her because she’s cool. I imagine she and I would
be friends and at a fancy party we would sneak away and smoke ciggies and talk
about everyone we hate at the party. I would probably spend the night at her
house sometimes because she probably has cozy English bedding. And I like her
grandma. #PerfectBangs
Annabelle
Caroline Stanbury’s sister-in-law, Sophie. Might be my
favorite person on earth. Quite clearly a functioning alcoholic, smoking cigs
outside of restaurants in the freezing cold London weather, only wants to have
fun and has drop dead hair with brilliant layers and phenomenal eyebrows.
#WhatMoreDoYouWantOutOfAWoman
Sophie
So those are my shallow thoughts of the day. Sorry and you’re
welcome.
*Something you don’t know about me? It’s funny. In the
summer of 2011, Yolanda and David Foster invited me to a hoity-toity party in
the Hamptons. After I had just been introduced to former president Bill
Clinton, I turned around and standing behind me was Kelly Bensimon waiting to
be introduced to Mr. Clinton. All of a sudden I said, “Mr. Clinton, I would
like you to meet my friend, Kelly.” Swear to God. I totally forgot that Kelly
wasn’t my friend and that I only know her from the television! Isn’t that funny!
