New Housewives…Squee?

New Housewives have arrived. The Housewives of Wherever is my personal crack. The casual eavesdropper would assume I know them well.

This Housewives junkie found herself a tad flummoxed with Bravo’s latest installment—the girls from Potomac. Prodding Middle Chicken for info as she just moved from DC where she frequently traveled to Baltimore—Where is Potomac? How big? Is it beautiful?
duchess-diaries-luxury“Never heard of it,” she deadpans. If at first she’s disinterested, it takes only moments for our heads to turn and face each other, mouths agape, single eyebrows raised. Potomac girls and Cotillion? I don’t think so.

Turns out, Potomac is quite the interesting hamlet. It is a Census Designated Place, which means it’s not really a town or a village or a city. It’s a fancy name for an unincorporated area. It has no separate municipal government but otherwise looks the same as any other area where there are a bunch of really nice houses and really, really snotty women.

Now, give Potomac a break. As with most Housewives franchises, a blurb by a woman who lives in the burb says, “Who are these women? Never heard of any of them and have never seen anyone in Potomac behave so badly.” So, in other words, Bravo scouted the best of the worst to ensure no one ever moves to the little Nirvana on the river.

Bragging rights do apply, however, and the ladies are not short of a little huff and puff about their community. It’s been listed as the most affluent town in the United States based on median income. It is the seventh most educated small town and the twenty-ninth richest zip code in the States. It’s got great schools and a median income of $240,000. For all the talk about manners, you’d think someone would have bought some. Pfft.

Karen, large and in charge, who eerily looks like Beyoncé’s mother Tina, is heavy handed dealing out manners instruction. She prints “Five Rules of Being a Good Guest,” frames it and presents it to the offender who failed to relinquish the center seat to the birthday bitch. The seating was banquette with five girls and the guest of honor was well over thirty minutes late. No apology necessary.

“We just don’t behave that way in Potomac.” This from a woman who named her breasts. Granted they are hard to ignore, but introduction is unnecessary.

Her etiquette partner in crime is the wife of an NBA coach who hasn’t been seen at home in quite some time. The woman hosts a crab boil. She asks a friend to cook then throws a hissy when said woman is loud in her kitchen and brings along a friend. Can you spell gratitude? This girl’s happy when anyone else is doing the cooking. Make all the noise you want.

The Potomac women are a hoot even if they never learned the number one rule of etiquette. A lady never points out someone else’s faux pas. She saves that shit for when she’s alone with her bestie and they can talk behind your back. Who doesn’t know that?


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