‘The Real Housewives of Orange County’ Whoop It up in Hell

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. We've just got two questions. Is it so chic? Is it very chic?

What does it mean to "whoop it up" in modern times?

Once, the whoop was a call to action, battle cry across a lake of sunburned Californians, jostling about on speedboats and pontoons while the Coronas lapped like waves against their insides. The whoop stood for freedom, unbridled joy, the great colonial project of the West. They chanted it in their taco stand temples and gated villas. Women, once subservient to the shouts and cries of men, let the whoop carry them to prospects hitherto unknown: suburban fame and glory, riches beyond dreams and job prospects unburdened by the number of children they sat at home with.

The whoop was, for a time, the only thing there was resounding through the Santa Anas, down through the Mojave and out past the thrust of Baja California. Live, laugh, whoop. If one were to grab a conch at a novelty tourist shop, they might even hear its echoes, still thrumming like the sound of tires on hot asphalt. A memory of that golden paradise, lost in the wilderness of the concrete infinity that now spans the majority of Orange County, up through Los Angeles and out past the Reagan Presidential Library.

Whoop — can you still hear it? They still speak of it, on The Real Housewives of Orange County. But what does it mean to whoop, long after the whoop has died? Will there ever be a whoop again? Vicki Gunvalson would like to think so, or else she'd not crawl her way back to reality television with a rotten orange in hand, telling tales of yesteryear, when its mere mention was enough to rally great armies.

Perhaps as long as Vicki Gunvalson lives, so does the whoop. She's back on TV, step one. The clothes never mattered much to the whoop, but shall we talk about them anyway?

Vicki Gunvalson

In many ways, Vicki Gunvalson is an over-embellished frame on a Victorian portrait of somebody's cleavage in one of those old-timey boardwalk photo studios people love to take their boyfriend's on vacation. This top slash dress slash something is befuddling, just like Ms. Whoop. The cleavage window being trimmed with faux-lace is perhaps the funniest thing I've ever seen, alongside the turtleneck or the lash lifting just slightly in the corners of the eye.

Good for her at making the attempt! I look forward to many more fashion blunders this season.

Shannon Beador

In 2023, I began a meandering and perhaps overused bit in which I find increasingly bizarre ways to describe Shannon Beador as a haunted little girl: a haunted doll, a ghost of a child who was lost offshore in a Victorian seaside, the spirit haunting a lighthouse. First and foremost, she dressed like a little girl whose parents were spies. Here's that exact quote:

"Speaking of Chanel, here is the 12-year-old granddaughter of Karl Lagerfeld’s most dedicated client in Laguna Beach, California. I mean, doesn’t she look like a girl named Susie out for a big day at church with her favorite grandparents? Her parents, spies or government assets, died mysteriously when she was a baby. After being taken in by her grandparents, she found herself spoiled beyond belief, although nothing can fill the dark void in her heart where a mother’s love should be. That is until one night in her grandfather’s study, she discovers a secret hidden bookcase, a stash of treasure and secrets that point to one thing: Her parents are alive. They’re out there, and they need help. But how will she sneak out before she’s shipped off to boarding school in the morning?"

In the last three years, we've seen her mother the spy, we've certainly seen Susie, and we've even met the headmistress of the boarding school she's shipped too in the second book. But we've never met her dear grandmother, who tragically loses her life in a fire that sweeps away the evidence of her parent's whereabouts. Thankfully, Susie found a locket with a photograph of her in 1986 Chanel ready-to-wear.

In one memorable flashback, Susie recalls a beach day when her grandmother was still alive. She was always suspiciously young despite being a grandmother. Susie finds out in the final book she was never her grandmother at all, she was the woman orchestrating the series of unfortunate events that had plagued her the entire time.

Tamra Judge

Tamra says that Jenn Pedranti wants to be her. To prove this point, Tamra showed up to the premiere dressed like Jenn Pedranti. Her mind is amazing and so is this outfit.

What is less amazing is the faux-collar on this faux-Chanel dress. What's even less amazing then that is the shawl-shirt she draped over it, or these statement buttons. She's dressed like a hostess who works the casino on a cruise ship that makes international headlines after spawning a new gastrointestinal disease.

Heather Dubrow

Heather Dubrow has always been an international woman of mystery, if Los Angeles was a country separate from Orange County. This is a joke about how she doesn't even live in the region this show films out of or talk much about her personal life. I haven't quite figured out a way to make it work. Sort of like this dress! It's pedestrian and totally serviceable — I just expect more from her.

Thankfully, as it concerns her personal life, she surprised me this episode when...

Her mother showed up dressed just like her. It's not our first encounter with the woman whose Chanel jewelry enters the room before her wicked personality, but boy was I happy to see her! There mirrored side-parts tell a complete story of family tragedy, as does her obvious aloofness and selfish machinations. It made me quite sad for Heather, and happy we might finally turn over the rock she's been sitting on for the past few seasons because she "doesn't play sports."

Just Gina

While Gina figures out her last name, let's just call her Gina. Here she is cheering for the stylist she finally hired to help her out. They cooked up a look, finally! I have nothing mean to say about it, except that I find the proportions slightly comical in the confessional booth. Remember the headmistress from Susie's boarding school? This is the outfit she wears everyday while instructing the children to be bright and polite little girls. She means well, but can never quite get a wrangle on all those mysterious deaths or strange artifacts plaguing the academy.

Back in the real world, I actually quite like this trench and jumpsuit combo. It's a welcome departure from the at-home-essentials she's become known for.

Some Lady

At dinner with Emily, Jenn was confronted by this waitress in a cropped tank and vest. She's dressed like a bounty hunter in a Fast and Furious movie, or the type of woman in a Tubi original movie that's a bartender and aspiring songwriter.

Jenn Pedranti

In the confessional booth, Jenn tried on Tamra's old clothes. I really wish these two would just kiss already and spare us the heated rivalry. They're clearly soulmates, each new fight about something or other charged with the sexual chemistry they think those two hockey guys have. Also, let's stand and clap for the sixteen pounds of hair that died to make these extensions!

Some Other Lady

I'm told this woman's name is Carmella, or something similar to Carmella. She's either going to be the longest running Housewife of all time or a one-season snooze we forget about, like that lady during the coronavirus season who ran a digital music licensing business with a house on the beach.

Images courtesy of NBCUniversal/Bravo