The Real Housewives of Atlanta Recap: Never Forget

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Photo: Bravo
The Real Housewives of Atlanta

The Real Housewives of Atlanta

All White Never Forget Showdown Season 10 Episode 4
Editor's Rating 3 stars

In a world where every Real Housewife seems to be on an upward path of self-betterment and enlightenment, there is still one bitch we can rely on to roll up to a white party holding a red plastic cup. There is only one. There is only Kim Zolciak.

NeNe and Porsha seem content to avoid each other and Cynthia is off meeting her Plenty of Rich Fish dates, so who will give us the drama? Even Shereé and Kenya are getting along. So there’s only one answer. There is only Kim Zolciak. Give her the damn peach back. That’s what we all want, right? Everyone else seems to be a part-time player. Doing public-service announcements or being featured on the cover of Essence magazine. Is anyone truly committed to the shade? To the drama? There is one woman who is.

There is only Kim Zolciak.

This episode is another snoozefest, but the late addition of NeNe’s weirdly specific party and Kim’s arrival really perk the proceedings up.

The episode opens with NeNe picking Gregg up from the hospital. I don’t have anything too snarky to say about Gregg’s health problems. My mom went through a similar mysterious heart problem a couple years ago and it was majorly unsettling. So I sympathize with NeNe. Gregg also cracks me up when his explanation for his heart problems is that she’s wearing him out and then immediately suggests she put on a nurse outfit and take care of him.

Shereé is wearing some amazing faux-locs this episode. Everyone who sees her for the first time since she had them installed immediately gushes over them and she looks STUNNING. She should rock them all year round. Also, whoever did her makeup for the white party did an amazing job. Oh right, she’s at home with her kids when her life coach arrives. He asks her how she did on her homework of preparing to talk to her kids. She says she had a blackout and doesn’t remember what she said and doesn’t want to talk about it. She’s also been offered a position as an ambassador with the Domestic Violence Coalition. I don’t mean to be rude, but didn’t she just ADMIT that Bob was abusive like … a month ago? She hasn’t processed a thing! And this alleged life coach Jack Daniels doesn’t seem to be doing much to help her deal with it. His advice this week? Just go do something nice for yourself. This is a woman who doesn’t have a job besides taking contractually mandated trips to Hawaii.

Kandi is getting ready to go to New York for her Essence cover shoot. She doesn’t technically have a personal assistant, so when Don Juan opens up her suitcase, it’s completely empty. MA’AM. Do you know how upset I would be if I was picking someone up to go to the airport and their suitcase was just 100 percent empty? I would get in my car and drive into the sea, I’d be so furious.

Porsha sits down with her sister to finally deal with their issues. Lauren says that she feels like Porsha keeps referring to her company as “my company” and she might need to do something else with her life if Porsha is going to be selfish. She keeps saying she’s about to be 30 and has a baby and asks if Porsha needs a real executive assistant. I can’t say that I’m a paragon of professional success, but Lauren definitely should get a real job. I mean … what is Porsha’s company? Running that podcast? Arranging wigs? What goes on over there? When Lauren asks, “What have I done to set my life up?” I’m weeping for her, but probably not in the way she’s weeping for herself. Set up a savings account, sis.

Anyway, NeNe is throwing a “Girls & Gays White Party Seafood Soiree Never Forget.” What? Each piece of this deserves attention.

“Girls & Gays.” NeNe. You can’t throw a party for your girls and your gays. You can’t specify the sexuality of people you want to attend. There also don’t seem to be anyone who is a girl gay person. So it’s more like a “Girls or Gays” party. If you’re a girl or a gay, but never the two shall meet. I also don’t think it’s nice when people use “gays” as a noun. If gay people want to use it that way to refer to themselves, that’s okay, but it feels a bit like when white people say “the blacks.”

“White Party.” This is the only part that makes sense.

“Seafood Soiree.” This isn’t a party theme. Is it BYOB? Bring Your Own Bouillabaisse? There were chicken wings at the party, so it wasn’t all seafood. False advertising.

“Never Forget.” This isn’t the theme of a party. This is a bumper sticker about a national tragedy.

This whole party is a thematic mess and NeNe chooses not to invite Porsha. Porsha stays at home with her sister and they count their blessings. Oh, did I say blessings? I meant wigs. They literally count wigs.

Everyone files in wearing their best all-white outfits and Shereé dresses on-brand. Her T-shirt has a dog with a bone in its mouth. Shereé also brings the Kim Zolciak-Biermann to the party. They both bring their own red plastic cups. Kim even made her husband wait in the car because she wanted to drink. They are both a goddamn mess.

The truest mess starts when the whole gang plus Marlo and Lisa Wu head inside to sit on some white couches in their white outfits. Marlo says that everyone has met Kenya’s alleged husband and Shereé corrects her. Kim starts muttering under her breath, “That’s never gonna fucking happen because he’s fake.”

If you didn’t cackle your goddamn head off at that, you’re dead inside. That is BOLD. Truly bold. Kim just keeps repeating, “He’s fake.” Then Kenya fires back something really gross and asks why Kim has a hard-on for her and didn’t she get that cut off in the reassignment surgery.

WHOA, WHOA, WHOA.

These causal assertions that women you don’t like are really men are fucking gross and actively harmful. Can we just stop?

Then Kenya throws back that Kim turned her daughter out for John Legend tickets. Kim gets up to get into Kenya’s face. I’m not saying I approve of Kim’s actions … but I understand.

To be continued!

The Real Housewives of Atlanta Recap: Never Forget