It’s Fashion Week, the most boring and offensive week of the year! I’m not saying that clothes aren’t important. Obviously I don’t want to see any of these women’s naked bodies. But it’s already bad enough watching these attention-unstarved melty-faced embodiments of everything that’s wrong with America without celebrating the single most egregiously-self-serving, slap-the-poor-in-the-face industry of the modern world. You can slap together your boho slouchfits like you just rolled out of Mary-Kate Olsen’s dumpster for $22 at Filene’s Basement, but high fashion, Fashion Week fashion, is a fucking insult. And if we are on the precipice of an enormous crossroads with this economy thing, then light up the hobo oil drums. There are some rich people who need to get eaten.
Kelly is opening all the invitations she gets for parties during Fashion Week. “People always say, like, ‘how do you make money? What do you do for a job?’ I’m like, not only do I write for articles, write for magazines, but I also go to parties and I write for Page Six.” Huh? I’m going to leave the ‘write for articles’ thing aside, because it’s so duh it hurts, but writing for articles, writing for magazines, and going to parties to write about parties for Page Six are all the same thing. I’m sure her stuff is a lot of fun for her editor. “I didn’t have to change a word. You are Page Six’s Shakespeare.” Kelly should get a talking editor, so that when she talks someone can fix it and make her not sound like an idiot. Then she should get a face editor so that she stops looking like a Balrog of the Deep.
For the rest of the episode, Kelly proves that there’s a new TOTAL C in town. For someone who acts like she’s so much better than the Real Housewives of New York, so above it, she sure is A FUCKING CAST MEMBER. Guess what, GIANT OLD MONSTER, you’re on a reality show because your life is a declining joke of less and less interest to anyone, but girl has got to put some fresh mangoes on the poured concrete SOHO countertop in case a fabulous guest drops by for an asshole-klatch, so, you know, you sign up. She should own this like she used to own the runway, over 1,000 years ago.
But Kelly’s real shining moment was when she attended Jill’s fundraiser planning meeting to raise awareness about arthritis.
“My daughter has arthritis.”
Later, she will ruffle everyone’s feathers when she refuses to allow her name to be printed on the charity event invitation, because she’s a really private person and she doesn’t lend her name out to things until she knows what they are. Um, even I know what this is. It’s a charity event for arthritis. Putting your name on an invitation to a charity event in the hope that it will encourage other people to show up–in Kelly’s case, I suppose those other people would be archaeologists who believe that the Arc of the Covenant is actually a human being–is literally the least you can do. There is nothing less than you can do. Kelly then says “I don’t even have time for my own charities,” WHATEVER THE FUCK THAT MEANS. What a piece of work. Kelly Bensimon’s a lot of fun, I hope she doesn’t die.
One person who’s not having any of it is Bethenny, who once again proves that she is the best lady on this show.
It looks like next week is going to be a real blow out between these two. I can’t wait. This week’s it’s just teaser. This week we get a sense of Bethenny’s long-seated grievances against Mr. Bensimon, which involves this one time where Kelly flirted with Bethenny’s boyfriend or something, because yes, this show is Real High School of New York, but next week we are going to really see the claws come out.
Meanwhile, Jill has a private fashion show brunch in a designer’s showroom? That’s a thing? Let’s just move on.
Alex and Simon go shopping for dresses for Alex to wear to Fashion Week at a boutique in Williamsburg. Fair enough. Except that they keep talking about how you don’t have to go to Manhattan to get designer clothing. Their incessant need to status-check everything they are doing, and to overcompensate for the fact that their lives are tiny moments of existential crisis strung-together by their delusional sense of self-worth is exhausting. WE GET IT, YOU SUCK!
Ramona just wants to blank them.
She wants to what?
She wants to blank him.
It turns out that this is true. Simon is very perceptive.
But why? Why would someone want to blank Simon?
FOR STARTERS. I feel like that conversation could have gone on for decades. Here’s me when the list of Simon’s problems is completely enumerated:
Simon knows what this is all about, though. Ramona is projecting.
HAHAHA. Nice try, Simon. You have a man problem. Hahahaha. If anyone has a man problem, it’s you, dummy.