Reality Matters_ 19 Writers Come Clean About the Shows We Can't Stop Watching - Anna David [5]
No it isn’t.
For several years I was a correspondent on The Daily Show, both with and without Jon Stewart. I reported on ridiculous people doing moronic things (or was it moronic people doing ridiculous things?) for exposure all over America. I loved this job because I got to be on television, and because I got to make stupid people look stupid on television. Of course, no one producing entertainment of this kind would ever admit to mocking anyone. “Celebrating” is the euphemism of choice. I can’t tell you how many times I sat in meetings and listened to development executives beam about their new projects: “We’re not mocking these people,” they’d say, “it’s not mean-spirited at all.” (It’s at this point that another executive or two would echo the sentiment with an “Oh, no!”) “That’s not what we’re about,” they’d insist. “We want to celebrate these people!” I’ll bet people at Bravo say this sort of thing an awful lot. I imagine that Bravo executives celebrate the fuck out of “these people.” I’ll bet they’re “all about” it. But these people shouldn’t be celebrated. They should be mocked—roundly mocked—with the meanest spirits we can muster—because capital “r” Reality is getting far too close to real reality for my comfort.
Of course the Real Housewives aren’t really housewives. (Students of Reality should by now have a natural suspicion of any show with the word “real” in the title.) At the time of this writing, only three of the six are technically wives, but like nuns who have taken a vow to God, the Real Housewives are wedded to the media, forsaking all others. Season two (one of the rare superior sequels in art) saw our girls feathering not their nests, but their brands. And by their brands we shall know them:
There is a countess on the show. It’s okay if you forget—the countess will consistently remind you by dropping hints like “I’m a countess” and by referring to herself as “the countess.” Those interested in how former “catalog model” LuAnn de Lesseps became a countess can read the whole fairy tale in her gracefully ghostwritten etiquette guide/memoir. (Or I can save you the trouble: she married some count. He was rarely seen on the show because, as it turned out, his Ethiopian mistress demanded much of his time. Fortunately, the countess will retain her title after the divorce.)
Natural foods chef Bethenny Frankel (two n’s, two e’s) has spent season two promoting her Skinnygirl (one word) brand: Skinnygirl cocktail mixes, Skinnygirl wheat-, egg-, and dairy-free baked goods, and a peppily ghostwritten book about how you can be a Skinnygirl yourself. Skinnygirl, Skinnygirl, Skinny girl. Let’s all say it! Although formerly branded the show’s underdog (because she was, until recently, unmarried, goofy, brash, doesn’t like to be touched, and has a bite radius of such might and scope that it could come only from a lifetime of grinding through even the stealthiest of nightguards), Bethenny Frankel seems to be reaping the most rewards from her decision to go for a reality show, her second. She is certainly faring better than she did on The Apprentice: Martha Stewart. We’re all very proud of our Bethenny. All of us, that is, but Kelly Bensimon.
Kelly Bensimon, former model, current horsewoman, is the newest housewife. Tan and torrential, she has no time for anyone she doesn’t consider “amazing” (she means “famous”). Her remoteness and unrepentant snobbery keep her