This week on our favorite show, Rich Women Doing Things, the rich women did things. They put their pink riding blankets and pink reins on their white horses, they donned a giant protective bonnet, and then they rode the horses around a golf course as a sad alternative to an English heath. They went to a store whose name does not make any sense as a combination of letters no matter what language you speak, and then they bought very reasonably priced bomber jackets. (For real — $300 is a reasonable price.) They yelled at their husbands for agreeing to adopt the most adorable dog ever created, while knowing full well that the only person who would ever care for that canine is the housekeeper.
I feel like these recaps have turned into a Dorit Kemsley burn book lately and, well, that is going to be the case yet again today — but let me rag on Teddi a bit for a minute. I do believe that she’s kind of a simple homebody who doesn’t know about the finer things in life the way that some of her co-workers do. However, I don’t believe her whole “I don’t have that much money” bullshit. She has a several-million-dollar house in Beverly Hills and a beach house in Dana Point, California. They may try to be like, “It’s a cottage,” but come on. Teddi is doing a lot better than she lets on.
It’s about as annoying as Kyle being like, “My renovation is a mess, I may have to move out,” when we all know that she and Mauricio already plunked down almost $9 million for a brand-new house. Not to sound like Lisar, but you ladies need to own it. You need to own that you own it. And by “it,” I mean a whole lot of expensive real estate.
I also loved when Teddi was like, “Oh, I can’t ride as much as I want because of work.” Does she mean her fake career as an “accountability coach”? Oh, sorry that texting people to remind them not to eat cupcakes and make it to the gym is taking so much time away from your very busy riding schedule, Teddi, but you have to pay them bills somehow. (And it’s not by being an accountability coach.)
I wouldn’t necessarily say I like Teddi, but I don’t mind her. However, she is not of this world. It’s just best for her to push the eject button now and slowly parachute back down to obscurity, slowly and safely, before this show ruins her life. I just don’t think she’s up for the manipulation and bitchery necessary for a life in the reality-television arts. I actually think she’s pretty chill, laid-back, and principled, but, sadly, none of those things get you invited back.
Just look at how she handled the thing about Dorit complaining endlessly that her champagne was poured in the wrong glass: She simply mentioned to Lisa that she didn’t know if she wanted to invite the women to her house again, because one of them made her uncomfortable talking about the glasses. Despite Lisa’s prodding, Teddi left it at that. She wasn’t trying to create drama. She was just trying to express her sincere emotions.
Of course, Lisa exploits this when she meets with Dorit to help plan the birthday party for Dorit’s husband PK, the flecks of urine on a public-toilet seat you only notice after you sit down. Lisa tells Dorit that Teddi was talking about the glasses at lunch, and Dorit confesses that it was her — then turns it around and makes Teddi seem like the crazy one, even though Teddi didn’t even mention Dorit’s name while talking about it.
Now, a reasonable human being would have heard that a woman with classless behavior made Teddi uncomfortable in her own home. Dorit hears that Teddi is trying to create conflict. “My friends don’t do things they don’t want to do to impress someone,” she says. “And if they do, they are putting the wrong foot forward.” Um, wait. This is coming from the woman who spent $19,000 on Hermès china and made sure she showed the receipts to everyone in America? Talk about doing things just to impress people.
Lisa tries to defend Teddi by saying that she really is a laid-back kind of girl and doesn’t really notice things like that. Dorit mentions that she does notice which glass is used, and Lisa says so does she. The difference is that Lisa would say something soft and kind to the waiter off to the side to correct his error later. Dorit had to make a big production out of it and show off her knowledge to prove that she is superior to others. At most, Lisa would have turned it into a snarky joke as a sly corrective, but it would have given everyone a little laugh and put them at ease. Dorit blares it out in multiple venues to make sure it is known that her standards have not been met.
This all comes down to manners, really: The height of good manners is making everyone feel comfortable, and Dorit certainly didn’t do that. She made Teddi uncomfortable in her own house. That is the opposite of good manners. That is barbarism at its worst.
I nearly died when Dorit decided to bring this up later at the birthday party. Everyone was having a good time, and Dorit must have been itching for a fight or something. Maybe it wasn’t worth all of that money for three boats, a helicopter, and a limo to bring PK — the drunk understudy for the role of Sean Spicer in a community-theater production of Fire and Fury — if she couldn’t guarantee there would be some discord at the party so that we would remember it forever.
Anyway, Teddi handles the situation correctly, which is to say something along the lines of, “We’re different and we’re going to do things a different way and we need to appreciate each other for that. If I’m less formal than you, don’t freak out at me.” Dorit then literally says, “If something’s not a big deal, I don’t say it.” But we all know Dorit said it. We know that she said it multiple times. We saw it on national television last week. When Kyle tries to point out to Dorit that, even if she didn’t say it, it registered to Teddi so she felt a little hurt, Dorit yells at Kyle for being Teddi’s “mouthpiece.”
This is how it escalates into a fight, because Dorit is the least self-actualized person with inhuman levels of self-confidence that I have ever seen. She goes on the attack against Kyle, then starts to attack Teddi when she says that Dorit couldn’t concentrate on a conversation because she had her wine in the wrong glass. That is when Dorit turns this all around on Teddi, claiming that she’s being insulting and a liar. Um, that escalated quickly. This just makes Dorit look absolutely bananas. Sure, Teddi might be stretching the truth a little, but to call her a “psycho” because of it is nuts. The irony of that, obviously, would be lost on Dorit.
Thankfully, we have the genius Bravo editors to cut from the fight to Lisar saying, “This was a perfect night.” As she, Erika, and St. Camille discuss how much fun the party was, we end with Lisa saying, “Dorit’s calmer and more grounded than I’ve seen her” — and then we cut back to Dorit somewhere on this boat, screaming about Teddi because her bartender poured something in the wrong glass.
Also genius is Kyle, who storms away from the fight saying, “Oh, Dorit, I’m drinking water out of a wine glass,” and making a silly face. I have never loved Kyle more. Then Dorit ends the fight by saying, “For God’s sake, it’s a glass.” Yes! Exactly! That’s the point. No one cares about it, so why did you have to bring it up and make a huge stink out of it? Jesus, just let it go. Instead of addressing the glass thing, maybe think about how you made Teddi uncomfortable.
As for the party itself, it is pretty successful. Is it totally over the top and maybe a little bit tacky? Yes. But so are Dorit and PK — a tapeworm trying to eat a jelly doughnut in one gulp — which means it is an absolutely perfect expression of who they are and their love for one another. Erika is so sweet to be supportive of Dorit and her desire to sing “Fever” with Boy George at the party. I would have been like Lisa and said, “Girl, stick to what you do best.” But Erika is right there to urge Dorit on and talk about the absolute balls it takes to risk humiliating yourself onstage like that.
Not only does Erika give herself and her time, she also gives Mikey. That is the best birthday gift she could have possibly given PK. Mikey does not mess around. He shows up to wiggle his hips, pop his lips, and throw down his chips. (I needed a third thing that rhymed.) Dorit really steps up her game, too. I’m sorry, but Mikey is a total genius at getting women to be a little bit too slutty onstage, and he and Erika school Dorit perfectly. Maybe Mikey should open something like Glamour Shots — but instead of boudoir photos, it’s just sultry dance numbers for women to perform for their partners.
The other revelation at the party is that PK — a Scotland Yard “wanted” poster printed with feces — has a hot brother named Steve. If PK is like a curdled tube of Bumble and Bumble styling cream from 2005 you find in the bottom drawer of your vanity, then Steve is the man on the Dry Look hairspray can that I spent my adolescence masturbating to.
Overall, the party seems like a good time, and Dorit looks amazing in her sequined ruffled jumpsuit. Not all of her looks translate that well, but this one is absolutely stunning. Also, seeing PK — a pimple that won’t pop, but oozes sporadically for a week — surrounded by his friends, and the real love that these two share, almost made me forget, if even for a second, how much I can’t stand either one of them.
Finally, the boat had to dock and everyone walked off it, up the metal gangplank that gave so many of the women in heels such a difficult time. The women all left in a clump as they headed for the row of idling SUVs in the parking lot. At the top of the gangplank, next to an open metal gate, a woman in a black, bugle-beaded gown and a feather boa slumped strangely over in an office chair that looked like it was usually occupied by a security guard. Lisa Vanderpump elbowed Kyle and pointed out the women silently, and the two of them shared a look that said, “What a mess.”
When the last guest had cleared out and the crew of the ship finally scrubbed the film of merriment and self-regard that coated all the carpets, the captain tied up the vessel and walked toward his car, slamming the door shut and waking up the woman, who was still sitting there. “What?” she screamed, as her arms flew into the air and she scrambled to stay on her perch. “I know I missed the boat, but I thought I’d see them leaving.” Eileen Davidson said this to the captain, who just shrugged and walked away, as she fixed the boa around her throat and watched the ripples of the water try to rock the moonlight to sleep.