In Gossip Girl terms, Kim D. is the Georgina Sparks of this season, exposing Melissa van der Woodsen’s sordid past and attempting to sabotage her relationships with husband Joe “Lonely Boy” Gorga and her status-obsessed best friend Teresa Waldorf-Giudice. I smell fan fiction.
Melissa is choosing between a fake-diamond-riddled shoe and a leopard-print one with the help of her makeup artist and local gay George Miguel. Apparently some music industry person is “interested” in her. Corte must be jeallllous. Kim D. calls, apologizes for talking smack about Joe Gorga, and invites her to the Posche (Porsche plus posh? A subtle portmanteau to appeal to the rich?) fashion show.
One thing I’ve never noticed is that the Giudice’s driveway kind of looks like a cock. LOOK AT IT. Furthermore, they really need to stop using that talking head where Teresa appears to be in the midst of Animorphing from Lady Gaga to a crane. It’s kind of distracting.
The Giudices attempt to teach their kids Italian until Gia takes over.
“Milania,” says Gia. “No biting on your eraser.”
“I’m sucking on it.”
Kim — who, if you recall, looks sort of like Kimberly Stewart seven days after watching The Ring’s cursed tape — comes to invite Tre to the fashion show, albeit not to ask her walk. Since that ended so well last time. Tre grimaces when Kim says she’s inviting Caroline and Jacqueline.
Chris Manzo, Albie, and Albie’s girlfriend Professional Cheerleader are making brunch for the Manzo parents and Lauren, tough customers about food if there ever were. Professional Cheerleader stares at them with an eager smile and glassy doll eyes. Lauren announces that “Caface” (guhh, that name) is official. Everyone claps!
Meanwhile, Kathy attempts to convince Bindi, a sweet shop, to sell her line of Goddess Sweets, complete with a cardboard display of Kathy doing Sassy Pose. In person, she is a mite less confident: “I look fat and I’m sure my hair’s a rat’s nest.” Richie keeps the double entendres to a minimum, save for a rub-and-tug gag: When Kathy says the dessert is the “happy ending,” Richie says he’s “not sure about that.” Except forget about THAT, because I think he actually just said: “My favorite dessert is Kathy. It tastes like fish, and she gets the job done.”
Our new Corte Ellis appears to be some guy named Jason who likes the Gorga’s indie spirit. We get a great little VH1 Behind the Music flashback at Melissa’s singing “career,” if you can call it that.
We learn, but are not surprised by, the fact that everything in Posche is fucking hideous.
“Caroline doesn’t try on,” Caroline says. Caroline refers to Caroline as a third person more often than I’d like. Later, she and Lauren check out the old Chateau/Caface space. Lauren plaintively mentions how “well” her brothers are doing hawking BLK. If she really thinks that, I have 1,000 Bibles to sell her real cheap. For once, Caroline demonstrates some unconditional pride in her daughter, weight be damned: “Lauren Manzo doesn’t know how fantastic she is.”
Jacqueline, Tre, and Melissa have a rather awkward playdate with their kids. As their spawn frolics on a blow-up playset with water guns (“Gino, shoot them ‘cause you’re the boy!” yells Melissa), Jacqueline and Tre are still trying to shellac their fake friendship back together to no avail.
For the first time in a long while, we hear from A$hlee, who’s got a good job in California and doesn’t seem drunk or on drugs. She got two new tattoos and is learning to be an adult. “I didn’t know you had to turn the gas, like, all the way off.”
At which point we get to the crux of the episode: Melissa’s sordid past as a private dancer, a dancer for money. As the ladies have various colors and cover-ups to attempt to look less like handbags, a dude walks in on Kim D. and Tre’s beautification process. As he hands them flutes of Champagne, he “mentions” that he used to have Melissa in his employ “in a little gentleman’s club in Elizabeth.”
“Oops,” Kim D. says unconvincingly. Tre starts to panic, or whatever, even though back when she hated Melissa, she was the one who started flinging that rumor around to begin with. Then Kim D., who is like, soooo sorry and felt soooo awkward about Teresa finding out, grills the guy about just how long Melissa worked at the strip club (one year, seventeen years ago) and how happy she made the customers (“very”).
Inexplicably, all of the housewives sit at one table at the Posche event even though basically everyone fucking hates each other at this point. Every time Jacqueline discusses her friendship with Teresa, a few chords of something that sounds like it’s from Silence of the Lambs plays. Of course, the dude that Melissa used to work for wanders up and says hello. She kind of grimaces and is civil. He greets Tre and then wanders away. #plotdevice
“I don’t remember where I know him from, but I know him.”
“Does he work here?” Tre asks weakly. DUM DUM DUMMMM.
Next week, on the final episode of the season, we find out if Tre’s alliance with Melissa is really as strong as she thinks — and, if we’re lucky, where Richie got his glasses. You know you love me. XOXO, Gossip Guido