So Chic, Very Chic: Total Eclipse of the Heart

So Chic, Very Chic: Total Eclipse of the Heart

BY Joan Summers | Apr 11, 2024

This is So Chic, Very Chic, PAPER’s examination of Bravo’s sprawling cohort of fashion obsessives. From haute couture to TJ Maxx, they’ve literally worn it all. Sometimes they stunt, sometimes they turn the look, and sometimes they burn holes in retinas my ophthalmologist says might never heal.

Last week, my editor was perplexed at a seemingly innocuous fairy tale I spun up about running into a guy with whom I had previously had unfulfilling sex with on a deflated air mattress. (That part’s true.) Earlier in the day, my astrologically inclined friend had warned me about what I planned on writing about for the remainder of the week. As they dramatically informed me via the “slam” iMessage effect, I needed to protect myself from what I put into the universe in the days leading up to the eclipse.

Would it shock anyone to know that just an hour after we published that column, I almost ran headfirst into him outside my usual lunch spot? I’m mildly superstitious, but consider me convinced that there are forces in the universe I won’t ever understand.

The next day, an earthquake rattled Philadelphia. I thought an enormously large truck had driven by my home, until I saw X in shambles. Later in the day, en route to get my bangs cut in a rather trendy salon my stylist relocated to, my Uber driver paused his podcast about new age spirituality to warn me about “the signs all around us,” as he described it. I nodded, knowing better than to indulge him, yet he persisted. “I feel like everyone’s third eye is going to open after this eclipse. A lot of people are going to wake up.”

I thought about all these things, eyes turned up towards the sky on Sunday. At the moment of partial totality, a massive cloud rolled on through and blocked all sight of the sun. The lesson is already lost on me. Speaking of, I’m sure Ally Lewber on Vanderpump Rules has some deep thoughts about the eclipse, what with her being an astrologer and all. Let’s see what those crazy kids wore this week.

Vanderpump Rules

Scheana Marie

There’s something happening with Scheana’s hair in the back half of this season. I can’t quite put a finger on it, but the look gives a bit Baywatch, a bit car show model, a bit Deal or No Deal briefcase holder, a bit electrocution victim. That said, it’s one of her better looks this season. A memorable little dress to wear while she torches her friendship with Ariana Madix, maybe forever. Best of luck as the house you built with her burns down around you, Scheana!

Scheana also brought out her Y2K glasses again this episode. She looks like the long lost member of S Club 7, back when they were originally S Club 7+1. Or, in more contemporary terms, one of the extras in Britney’s “Work Bitch” music video.

Lala Kent

Lala paired this blazer set with a mesh undershirt and exposed bra for her visit to a fertility clinic. It’s the most professional she’s looked all season, but these nails are insurmountable for me. There is a world where somebody can pull off the fluorescent talons, but contrasted with her fashions this season, it reads like those little plastic gimmick fingers you stick on the ends of your actual fingers. I think they sell them at gas stations, or the 99 Cent Only store.

Tom Schwartz and Jo

If Greta Gerwig’s Barbie was predictive of anything, it was Tom Schwartz’s arc this season as the living personification of Ken. Minus, of course, the character growth and twice the abusive behavior towards the women in his life. That said, he received his karmic punishment this week in the form of this bleach job. I like to think Jo did this to him as punishment for mistreating her this bad on camera, and if you ask me, he deserved worse. Also, note the look of incredulity on the faces of the other women in the salon.

The Valley

The Minivan Mafia

I can’t be fucked to learn these men’s names, but Jax Taylor (in the middle) calls them the minivan mafia. As such, the minivan mafia they shall be. With that out of the way, imagine you find yourself at a point in your life where you’re at a parking lot carnival with the kid in a stroller and your v-neck t-shirt stretched out and sweaty, talking about “love language quizzes” with some dudes who are very publicly headed for divorce.

Jax Taylor and Brittany Cartwright

I’ve tried to pinpoint what these two remind me of in their rumplety-crumplety clothes, and I finally figured it out. He looks like a Reno casino magician who’s in severe debt, and she looks like the assistant he hired off Craigslist to disappear behind curtains and occasionally saw in half. He only calls her when he’s drunk, and she only responds when her on-again-off-again boyfriend pisses her off. The hotel room they meet up at has broken plumbing and stains on the carpet, and he promises her that when he strikes it rich, they’ll move to Vegas and secure a show on the strip. She knows he’s lying, of course, but the fantasy sustains her for just another try.

Jesse Lally

Zack, The Valley’s resident gay troublemaker, described Jesse’s suit like one a man might wear if he were to “snort a line of coke the length of a bar.” I’d actually say it’s nothing of the sort, and instead is reminiscent of something a fake scientist might wear in a documentary about how the round-earth conspiracy theorists are the reason frogs are turning gay. It’s a sort of ancient aliens slash manosphere pickup artist vibe that I don’t really love.

Summer House

Kyle Cooke and Amanda Batula

These two are once again dealing with seemingly irreconcilable discord in their marriage. To cope, Kyle has stolen the knit t-shirts from Tom Schwartz’s closet, and Amanda has stolen Kyle’s corporate work attire from when he used to have an office job prior to getting on reality television. It’s an interesting juxtaposition via fashion of the deep, seemingly incurable darkness at the heart of their marriage. Best of luck to these crazy kids!

West Wilson and Ciara Miller

Ariana wore something similar to Ciara here on this week’s Vanderpump Rules, but I prefer how easy and breezy Ciara makes it look. It’s a dress that begs to be seen on a rooftop bar at golden hour, not a tavern in Hollywood with people who hate you. West, meanwhile, continues to dress like a man who wears ironic statement trucker hats to happy hour while his hot girlfriend turns a look.

I wanted to love this dress. Anything that plays with suiting will always feel fun to me, and the color with the statement earrings are divine on her. But like others we’ve seen this season, there’s an un-ignorable fit issue that mostly makes me mad at producers. These people make this network a gazillion dollars. The least that network can do is ask them to stand up and pull their dress down before they continue any further with the interview.

Paige DeSorbo and the Girls

Ciara’s statement jewelry is nice, but the primary fixture of this shot for me is Paige’s little Prada smock. It’s perfect, at least to me. I love the peekaboo boob. I love the prominent logo. I love the length. I love how it looks with her hair pulled back, draped across the bed and talking shit with her friends. It’s fun and flirty and playful and fits her perfectly. A rare kudos from me to Paige. Kudos!

Photos courtesy of Bravo/ NBCUniversal