‘The Real Housewives’ Are Trapped in an Energy Vortex

What do we think happens in an energy vortex?

I ask, only because the women of The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills were trapped in one this week. Viewers never laid eyes on the energy vortex, or even really heard what it was. According to spiritualists and mystics and the sort that now go to Grateful Dead concerts and sell me nitrous at the raves, it's an underground confluence of extra-dimensional energy twirling and shimmying about for no particular reason.

Honey, if it can't pay my bills or shake its ass, it better got off this dance floor!

Jokes aside, I do feel that the energy vortex very much is real and very much can hurt me. While nobody saw the energy vortex, one did get the feeling of being trapped in it. Besides more visible signs, like Rachel Zoe's missing luggage and Kathy Hilton's incessant shaking, there was the distinct impression that at any minute, Jennifer Tilly and Erika Jayne would explode into a hundred billion tiny pieces. Squint hard enough, and one could see the ghosts of Kyle Richards sins swirling all about her like the monkeys in The Wizard of Oz, while in the corner, a halo of light sprung into being and blinked Sutton Stracke out of existence.

So, I guess, maybe that's what being trapped in an energy vortex is like.

As a viewer back home, though, the whole thing appeared like another boring The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills cast trip in which nothing happened and Rachel Zoe wore clothes. Seems that being physically present for the energy vortex helps in the experience of being subsumed by an energy vortex.

Shall we talk about Rachel Zoe's clothes?

The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills

Dorit Kemsley

Like a poem said by a lady in red, Dorit Kemsley rises from her throne of bones, clutching the decapitated head of the vampire who turned her. She smiles, pointing at the next shirtless hunk, and her buxom vampire seductress sisters carry him forward, offering up his neck while ripping out his tongue to quell the screams. Bored of the spectacle, she drains him quickly, frowning just so at the distinct taste of iron in his blood. With a flick, his corpse flies across the room, the buxom vampire seductresses flinching just so, keenly aware of their mistress' boiling anger.

She saunters back to the throne, ripping her crimson dress of in a single motion. Dort tilts her head back, just for a moment, and whispers, voice sharp as a fang: "Get me another dress. That filthy creature got his blood all over this one."

Rachel Zoe

I just love looking at Rachel Zoe's clothes. I love looking at them because I frankly never know if I've already seem them before, or even written about them in this very column. It's the beauty of an embodied dresser, whose wardrobe blends together into a seamless stream of flowing gowns and sparkly fur coats. I particularly like the metallic streamers woven into this one, although she always goes far too much on the accessories front. Had she taken off the chunky collar, the over-accessorizating would have circled the back around to just enough. But that's Zoe! I can't control her accessories and I cannot control her eyeliner choices.

Amanda Frances

I just don't like a lady who shows up on TV bragging about all the money she has in a rented, $350 Milla top. It's not that I'm against $350 tops, or even mid-market brands like Milla. It's that I cannot stand a faker, a label I feel very much applies to the mid-market somebody-or-other known as Amanda Frances. Between her tacky, knock-off Chanel and otherwise cheap tops, the whole farce of her lifestyle and job scream fake!

Perhaps if she had accessorized like Zoe, I would have forgiven her the crime of wearing something Gizelle Bryant wore eight seasons ago on The Real Housewives of Potomac. Lucky for her, I'm not in a forgiving mood.

Bozoma Saint John

I just love the color orange on Boz. I love it on her body, I love it on her face, I love it in her aura. While the confessionals have mostly missed for me this season, this one hits me right where it hurts! The drama and proportions work nicely in conjunction with the backdrop, and I just think her glam is so pretty. I would have like accessories that helped elevate her features, rather than drag them down — these hoops are just too heavy around the collar — this is the win I've been looking for. Kudos!

Married to Medicine

Quad Webb

The journey this denim moment took to finally arrive on Quad, in the confessional booth, sure is something. It began as a twinkle in the eye of an H&M designer in 2016, before hitting the mean streets of Rihanna's America. Then it made its way to Katy Perry's America, before circling the block to a Crossroads nearby. After filtering through an indeterminate amount of Swedish pop stars and K-Pop groups that would soon break up, it landed back in rotation on Instagram boutiques, where it finally found its way to Quad.

Doesn't she just look beautiful?

Dr. Contessa

Speaking of beautiful women, here's Contessa! I love when the doctors wear club dresses under their lab coats. It's almost like they're superheroes, huh? With one quick costume change, they're ready for bottle service paid for by the guy who's job is somehow "crypto" now, even though everyone knows his dad is a banker overseas that funds his high rise apartment.

Toya

It wouldn't be a season of Married to Medicine if Toya didn't show up rocking a mesh outfit with a visible bra. As someone who similarly rocks many a mesh outfit with visible bras, I can relate! I don't relate, though, to these Van Cleef Alhambra bracelets she insists on flashing alongside her Tiffany's bracelets and stacked rings.

Still, doesn't she just look beautiful?

It's almost hard to believe she'd top said beauty in the next confessional, where she wore an interesting new spin on the pussybow blouse dress. This one has a pussybow, but also a boob window for her huge knockers. I love it, truly! There's never been a more Toya dress than this one.

Dr. Simone

If Contessa frequently wears club gear underneath her lab coats, Dr. Simone loves a Mother-of-the-Bride dress under hers. This Gucci dress with the pussybow is less interesting than Toya's pussybow, but I do like the color! I just wish Simone would drop the labels entirely, just like I wish she'd drop her husband.

Want to know who she shouldn't drop, though? Her glam team! I mean, my god.

Vanderpump Rules

Venus in Furs

I do not ask for much in this lifetime. I do not demand riches or fame. I do not demand critical acclaim or even a moderately tolerant readership. I don't ask for free clothes from the designers I've worked with or autographs from the celebrities in my phone. I don't ask for a solution to my childhood trauma, or another season of Riverdale or And Just Like That. I don't ask, even, for a bartending gig on Watch What Happens Live!, even though I deserve it, and even though I know executives at Bravo actively read this column.

All I ask is for a gay guy with a blowout to wear a faux-fur vest he stole off a burner with no shirt on underneath to show up on Vanderpump Rules. Because I am good, and kind, and gracious, God granted my wish.

Speaking of furs, Venus wore a pink pleather trench coat with a fur collar and muffs to sit poolside in Paso Robles, California while his friend bitched about the lack of romance in her relationship with an OnlyFans star that is being accused of "cousin incest" by the internet and their friends.

Again, I don't ask for much in this life, and as such, God sees fit to grant me all my wishes.

Images courtesy of Bravo/NBC Universal

Graphic Design by Jewel Baek