When I lay in bed tonight and reflect upon all that I’m grateful for, Heather Thomson will definitely come to mind (along with Internet-based food delivery and leggings that look like pants). Without our dear HollaHeather, this episode could have been FDA-approved for use as an anesthetic. Imagine being prepped for oral surgery and having to sit through that scene where Ramonja and Aviva went shopping for modular shelving. Out like a light.
Do you remember when we first met our girl? She had chunky blonde highlights and introduced herself as, “Hi, I’m Heather, my father just died. Oh, would you like to change the subject? How ’bout we discuss my son’s liver transplant? Your choice.” She’s come a long way, baby. Hollur!
But let’s get into the meat of the episode, as little of it as there was. Please note that Bravo is yet to put up their screencaps for this episode, so I’m going to be working with some rando photos from their site for this one. Onward!
CHAPTER ONE: BACK FROM AFRICA
HollaHeather is hollahosting a jewelry line launch party to support an organ donation charity, and all of the functioning Housewives are invited! Carole talks to Jacques/Jack about how dying feels like having an orgasm, which will guide my meditation for this week. Ramona just flew in from Africa, and boy are her arms tired! It’s refreshing that she’s wearing hardly any make-up and actually looks like someone who just got off a plane. Is there anything worse than someone who looks good right out of the airport?
Ramona missed everything that happened in the HollaHamptons and HollaHeather fills her in that Aviva is no longer welcome at her events and has been uninvited from her upcoming 10th anniversary party. The hamster wheel in Ramona’s brain starts spinning, and she remembers how HollaHeather refused to invite her to London last year. The Ramones starts plotting how to control who HollaHeather invites to things, which is sure to work out beautifully for everyone.
Here’s the difference between HollaHeather and the rest of the Housewives: Heather isn’t okay with Housewife fights derailing events that are important to her. Period. I have mad respect for that. First, because it’s a sane approach to opening your life up to reality TV. And secondly, because she’s creating more plot points by not inviting people to things. It’s rather brilliant, actually.
Ramona tells a beautiful story about a lion getting humped in Africa: “It was like, wham bam! Thank you ma’am!” And then there’s a super uncomfortable conversation between Kristen and Josh that Carole is forced to witness. The main talking points are:
1. Josh checked out a woman’s butt implants.
2. Kristen promised Josh six blowjobs a week when they signed the lease on their apartment (Honey, come on. Don’t write checks you know your ass can’t cash).
3. Josh says he had it in writing and it was a legally binding contract (gross).
4. Josh says he had plenty of other women so don’t worry about it??
Aaaand the joking about trading blowjobs for money just stopped being so hilarious.
CHAPTER TWO: SHELVE IT
Aviva, Ramona, and Sonja meet up at a store that isn’t Bed Bath & Beyond to buy things for Avery, who’s going to college, and Sonja, who basically lives in a dorm at this point. Aviva spews her story about HollaHeather in the Hamptons, and surprise surprise, she’s the victim in this version! Ramona wants Aviva and HollaHeather to make up because she considers herself a producer of this show and has to control every situation.
Of course, she doesn’t admit that, it’s all about how going to Africa made her want to be a peacemaker along the lines of U.N. Goodwill Ambassador Angelina Jolie. Sonja takes the othering up a notch by comparing Ramona to the Dalai Lama and the Buddha. I honestly don’t expect Sonja to know the difference between the religious make-up of Africa and Asia. I’m just afraid of her offending her Good Friend, the King of Saudi Arabia.
Ramona tries to get HollaHeather and Aviva to make up over a speakerphone conversation in the trash can aisle, which I believe is how most international peace treaties are ratified. I love that HollaHeather answers the phone, “What’s cookin’, boo?” Please let this white Sheree stay on the show forever. They agree to meet up for a “conversation,” and Sonja picks up a mini-fridge and a dry erase board for her bedroom door.
CHAPTER THREE: IT’S THE EGGS AT MY AGE
Next, we are treated to a scene with HollaHeather’s sexy hollahusband, Jonathan. Following the Spice Girls Edict of 1996, Jonathan gets with his wife’s friends, in this case to pick out caviar for Heather’s 10th anniversary gift. Carole, Kristen and Jonathan taste caviar and drink champagne and talk about hypothetical threesomes all into the evening. This restaurant apparently is the kind of place where you get another full glass of champagne while you still have one on the table. It’s sweet of Jonathan to put in the effort with his wife’s friends, but if I were Heather watching this, I would’ve been majorly bummed to have missed it.
HollaHeather finally meets up with Aviva, and I’ve brewed my second pot of coffee because this episode has been so fucking boring. Aviva tells Heather that she “took it up the butt” and “felt very much verbally raped” by her, which is a disgusting trivialization of the experiences of real sexual assault victims. Can we all please donate to RAINN in this bitch’s name today? There’s “Africa made me feel peaceful” ignorance, and then there’s “rape is like writing a long email” ignorance. Please.
HollaHeather says, “You are so f*cking dramatic,” and Aviva accuses her of name-calling and asks her if she wants to apologize, because she treats everyone like her small children. HollaHeather calmly replies, “No. You are f*cking dramatic,” and I fall deeply, deeply in love with her. The rest of the fight goes like this:
AVIVA: You sit on a high horse with no ability to self-reflect.
HEATHER: You sit on a high horse, Ms. Vassar!
ME: Ohhh ho ho ho shit! Yes, girl!
AVIVA: You’re just as bad with your “I worked with Puffy.”
HEATHER: That’s my work, why don’t you get a job and see what it’s like?
AVIVA: Stop attacking me!!
HEATHER: Do you give a shit about me?
HEATHER: Then let’s try and get somewhere. I don’t need to defend Carole–
AVIVA: Are you guys lovers or something?
HEATHER (to us): This comments tells me that she’s childish, and she’s insanely jealous of my friendship with Carole, and I have her psyche nailed down in a way that she will never be able to understand.
AVIVA: When it comes to me and Carole, I don’t think that you’re impartial. Can we leave it at that?
HEATHER: *does a quick cost-benefit analysis of dragging out this argument versus getting home in time to tuck her kids in and fuck her hot husband* Yes. Definitely.
AVIVA: You called me a f*cking f*cker.
HEATHER: Listen, I swear all the time, people who swear all the time don’t say “f*cking f*cker,” you fucking child.
Aaaand Heather is cemented as queen of our hearts, and queen of our hollas.
CHAPTER FOUR: THE SLUMS OF BEVERLY HILLS
The next day or whenever, we’re at Sarabeth’s with Kristen and Carole, who’s carrying a white tribble as an accessory. “Where are our friends???” they wonder out loud, very naturally. Then, the earth opens up beneath them and fiery lava erupts. “Heyyyyyy gurrrrrrrls” echoes from the hellish canyons below, and Yolanda David Foster Wallace and Brandi Alexander rise up out of the flames to torment another franchises’s viewers.
I have one question about this crossover. Must we?
Brandi tells a kind of shitty story about Kristen making out with an Elvis impersonator during her bachelorette party, proving that she will turn your intimate moments together as friends against you in a fucking heartbeat. It’s great to see that she’s consistent about using secrets and privileged information to control people. If you think I’m exaggerating, note when she asks Kristen point-blank about her sex life and blurts out, “Because for a while you weren’t having sex with poor Josh.” Make no mistake, this chick will betray you for a dollar. And not even a nice one. She’ll betray you for a crumpled dollar that the vending machine won’t even accept.
I’m so pissed about this show getting hijacked that I can’t even talk about Carole taking Xanax and ripping off Samantha Jones’s “They don’t call it a job for nothing.” Carole has an Emmy and a Peabody and fucked George Clooney and implies that she barebacks, and I can’t even process that because I’m so furious at Brandi’s spaghetti straps. Is nothing sacred?
CHAPTER FIVE: ALUMINUM CANCELED
Finally, we are at HollaHeather and her hollahusband’s fabulous 10th anniversary party. While other Housewives would use this as an opportunity to stage a full second wedding/vow renewal, Heather just wears an impeccably-tailored white sequined dress to a rooftop party, which is exactly right. Kristen and Josh take a few minutes to have a fight about Josh being late, and the brief look the doorman gives the camera says it all. These two have been getting a very bad edit lately as far as their marriage is concerned. To be fair, Josh does seem like a total dick, but he’s far from the worst husband on these shows. Y’all remember a dude named Kelsey Grammer?
Kristen sits down with Carole, who looks amazing in a white men’s tuxedo jacket and braided hair wreath, and confesses that she and Josh have had some sessions with a therapist. She had actually been seeing her therapist for a long time before she invited Josh to come, but she never told Josh about it. Kristen says, “If he ever finds out…” to which Carole, side-eyeing the cameras around them, says, “Well… he will…” It’s perhaps my favorite thing she’s ever said.
And who is missing out on this anniversary party slash marriage counseling? Why, the hypothetical threesome of Aviva, Ramona, and Sonja! Even though Heather had hinted after their fight that an invitation was in the works, she rethought the prospect of screaming at Aviva at her own damn anniversary party and texted her that it was “too soon.” Ramonja, who visited Aviva’s apartment to sear their eyes on her wallpaper and find out where the last of the Truffula trees went, decided not to attend the party “in solidarity” with the woman who called them alcoholics and white trash last season. Female friendship is a beautiful labyrinth.
Heather briefly dishes with the other ladies about how how rude and obnoxious it is to boycott a party to which you RSVP’d yes. Then she accepts a tote bag full of caviar from her handsome, devoted husband and dances her ass off on a rooftop full of people who love her. At the end of this episode, it is crystal clear that not only is Heather Thomson good at reality TV, lady is good at life. And you know what? I’m happy for that fucking fucker.
Next week: Aviva swears in front of her children, real and metaphorical fireworks go off, and Sonja goes commando. Until then, I’ll be like Carole’s fat Italian grandmother: beloved but unseen.