My name is Anna and I sometimes watch the Real Housewives
franchise.
It started a few years back, when I was sick, lying on the couch
(old, ugly and comfortable couch) looking for something utterly mindless to
watch. There it was, on my screen, the pit of despair. I’ve watched more or less steadily since. Not religiously, far from
even half the episodes in a given season, not every location, but enough to be embarrassed
about it. Today’s blimp is about the ‘ladies’ of Beverly Hills, and boy do I
wish G was stateside to discuss it.
One, if not the, leading housewives in the BH series is one Lisa
Vanderpump, a British export and a former 80s cheesy video starlet, who claims to be in her 50s , I think (I didn’t
check.. checking would be taking this a step too far!). When the show first
aired, some 5-6 seasons ago, she was a fabulously kept woman of a certain age,
with features that while perhaps enhanced nonetheless so blessed with genetics
as to appear natural.
Yesterday I happened to catch half an hour of their final
show, a so called ‘reunion,’ where they all sit around and talk (or rather hurl jabs) to the main man,
mastermind, and Svengali of the Bravo Channel: Andy Cohen. They were all
dressed up to the nines, blinged to the hilt, and wore so much war paint that
its collected weight would have cracked an industrial scale.
Most sported some
visible evidence of plastic work – slightly too smooth a brow, a teeny bit
plumper lip.. It was Lisa, however, who seems to have undergone the most
radical and saddening change. Where once was more or less natural beauty now something
rather frightening was happening. And I’m
not talking about her gross trout pout (yuk) or the botox. These two you take for granted with the 'ladies' of the Real Housewives. It was her eyebrows - arched
high up into her forehead , almost at the hairline – a telltale sign of a major
facelift:
Yank them up anymore and she will look like Joan Rivers' sister.
Ergh, sad.
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