Brit would be better off listening to her cast members’ advice on what it takes to be a good Housewife. Photo: Bravo
Kelli and Shamea’s goal for the trip is to reset the group after a tumultuous season. It succeeds as the women finally fall into a promising rhythm with each other, displaying the potential this group had all along. With pistol-gate firmly in the rearview mirror (well, it was at the time of filming; we’ll get into that lawsuit later) and Drew and Porsha agreeing to put their weapons down, it truly feels like a clean slate. The cast has finally calibrated their drama, delivering relatively low-stakes arguments that strike the perfect balance between realistic and absurd, from arguing about taking shots and joking that Drew looks like Betty Rubble to giving Brit some tough love about her attitude.
For the second episode of the Grenada trip, Kelli and Shamea want to focus on the “renew” part of their theme, and although this isn’t what they meant by new beginnings, we get plenty of fresh beef, including the downfall of Brit and Kelli’s friendship. It’s a change of pace from the past few seasons, where story lines would stretch for what felt like an eternity, circling the drain only to be rehashed again. But with women like Kelli and Angela, who possess a level of maturity and savvy lacking in newbies of the past, and veterans like Porsha, Drew, and Shamea, who know the importance of going with the flow on a reality show, the group is able to keep moving forward as we march to the finish line of season 16.
Unfortunately for Brit, instead of allowing this fresh start to present any redeemable qualities, she proves that her battle with Kenya isn’t the only thing that makes her unlikable. Shamea is the first one to lose her patience with Brit, starting with her donation of a few paper-towel rolls (it’s like, damn girl, I could’ve donated that, and I live in a studio apartment) and $250. Though Shamea will eventually confront Brit about it at dinner, the friction between the two rises throughout the day as every one notices Shamea’s passive-aggressive digs and Brit’s constant defensiveness. When the women split into two groups, with the new additions going to a cooking class and the old faces heading to a waterfall, Shamea opens up about the sour taste Brit left in her mouth.
The waterfall crew is deliciously classic Atlanta with Porsha, Cynthia, Shamea (who looked beautiful in her two-piece! I know she didn’t feel confident, but I thought she looked great!), and Phaedra twerking in the Caribbean and giggling like old times. They also remind us of the standards we should hold our Housewives to. As Shamea explains why her patience is thin with Brit, the veterans collectively grumble over the sparse donations. Shamea tells the ladies, “You can’t show up in a Rolls-Royce with a Birkin on your arm and a small box.” Phaedra is the most appalled, especially at the $250 CashApp, saying the donation should’ve been at a minimum of $1,000, considering the lifestyle Brit leads.
But there lies the issue — not only is Brit’s personality unbecoming of a Housewife but her lifestyle is too. She represents a new era of Atlanta money with her veneers, flashy car, and designer clothes. While production probably wanted to represent this part of Atlanta, it’s a diametrically opposite demographic to the original class-conscious women who were more familiar with Jack and Jill than strip clubs and BBLs. Times have obviously changed since 2008 — I mean, just look at Phaedra and Porsha’s aesthetic changes since their first season — but there are still certain social cues and class signifiers they abide by as women of a certain caliber. And charity is one thing they certainly don’t play about.
The distinction between new money and old money, and how this informs social cues, has always been a fascinating dynamic across all the Housewives cities; however, Atlanta has a unique and inevitably racialized relationship with class. As I mentioned in previous recaps, while wealth is more accessible than ever for Black people, the racial gap is still large, and people don’t learn to move in affluent circles overnight. In a way, I think this is what Kelli was getting at at dinner when she said, “Brit is in a situation where she is not aware in regard of how much to give or what to do … If we’re going to show up and be ‘That Girl,’ be ‘That Girl’ in all aspects of our lives.” I suspect Brit is trying to portray herself as having more money than she actually does, and if her flop of an event at the country club wasn’t enough to expose that, then her lack of couth is. She desperately wants to align herself with a certain echelon of women — note how she called taking shots “hood-rat behavior,” yet she’s the one who spouted off about pistols — but struggles in acting like one.
Being a Housewife is a wonderful way to learn how to navigate a new socioeconomic class, but Brit is too arrogant to humble herself and learn from the women. This arrogance also applies when it comes to trying to ingratiate herself into the group as a new cast member on a TV show that’s been on for almost two decades. Both Phaedra and Porsha were prepared to give her advice, with Phaedra schooling her on how to give back appropriately and Porsha opening up the conversation to discuss why Brit feels “unsupported.” To Porsha’s point, outside Kelli, Brit never opened herself up to the group to establish a closer relationship. And to take things beyond the fourth wall, continuing to film with Brit after pistol-gate and not campaigning against Kenya’s firing is a mountain of support, in my opinion.
The group can’t even articulate their issues with Brit or explain why her donation was a faux pas because Brit struggles when she’s in the hot seat (another quality that makes her a poor Housewife). She’s clearly the type of person who listens to respond and not to understand, as her words come out like daggers while the women try to have a constructive conversation. Phaedra clocks it wonderfully — even a broken clock is right twice a day! — later telling Brit that she’s doing a disservice to herself by always “sitting on ready.” She advises her to be more friendly when joining a group like this, saying, “If someone wants to come to your house, you better have a charcuterie board and a glass of Champagne.” Finally, someone is teaching her how to be a Housewife!
Back at dinner, Shamea eventually gives up trying to make her point about the donations, but Porsha, who finally decided to clock in at the end of the season, asks what Brit meant at her event when she said she didn’t feel supported. Brit’s arrogance pops back out as she reveals she’s been holding a grudge because Porsha hadn’t saved her phone number. As they go back and forth like petty school children, hilariously repeating each other’s names, the ridiculously attractive (everyone on that island is fine) prime minister of Grenada arrives to join as a dinner guest, putting a pin in the spat. Once he leaves, the women bring out a cake to celebrate Angela’s anniversary, which serves as a lovely reprieve from the fighting and marks the solidification of sisterhood among the cast.
Sisterhood continues as a theme for the rest of the episode as the women first rally around Angela, who is dealing with Charles’s cold dismissiveness (he gave her nothing but attitude on that FaceTime), then Shamea, whose husband informs her that their youngest child, Shiloh, caught a fever after the nanny left her unattended in a cold room. It’s heartbreaking, as the baby is immunocompromised, and little things like maintaining a healthy body temperature can be the difference between a good night’s sleep and a hospital visit. Shamea is distraught to be miles away while her daughter is at home sick, putting everything into perspective for the women.
Once back at the villa, the group covers Shamea in support, embracing her as she sobs and lending her words of affirmation. Everyone nurtures her in the ways they know how, with Porsha offering up her boobs for Shamea to rest her head and Angela affectionately sharing the breeze from her portable fan. They finally get the distraught mom to smile. Then Brit, overcompensating from the tough love she got in the car from Phaedra, launches into a slightly menacing monologue about how she’ll have Shamea’s back no matter what. She begins to cry herself, raising her voice while the rest of the women look on awkwardly, though they appreciate her attempt at changing the tone. As the ultimate olive branch, after complaining all day about Shamea peer-pressuring her into taking shots, Brit pours some tequila for everyone, downing it like a champ before running around the room topless. For once, she’s doing something right!
• Phaedra’s commentary veers on a disingenuous attempt to become meme-able, but she did make me laugh when talking about Kelli’s boobs (how she didn’t notice that nip slip is beyond me) and Drew’s Temu outfits. Most notably, her comment about most men being crazy and how that leads to marital issues was spot on and so funny.
• Brit’s lawsuit and her absence at the reunion are the elephants in the room for tonight’s episode. She’s suing Bravo for $20 million in damages after alleging that the photos on the poster board weren’t her (why she waited this long to say that, I have no idea), and production refused to show them to her (if this is true, someone needs to be fired). It’s gotten so murky that I’m not sure what to believe, but at least it’s safe to say we probably won’t be seeing her next season, which is fine by me because she’s holding back the current cast.
