KYLE’s style is a mix of generic tribal (the most offensive kind) meets generic Beverly Hills meets Elmer’s Glue meets rhinestones meets flammable.
Why didn’t KYLE defend VANDERPUMP from CAMILLE’s statement that VANDY doesn’t actually own her restaurants. KYLE’s diplomacy tactic relies on throwing BRANDI under the bus with a sprinkle of “I used to be child actor” tears; VANDERPUMP’s not buying it, not even over a glass of rosé.
At the mansion made of lemons, YOLANDA prepares lemons for her good friends KYLE, VANDERPUMP, and oh yeah, SUZANNE SOMERS.
At KYLE’s estate, she invites her connected Hollywood friend MARISA over to do a private yoga sesh in her backyard.
The HOUSEWIVES arrive and the traditional festival of compliments and kisses commences. BRANDI wears a body suit that, if KYLE were to bump into her, would give her a face full of breast.
Besides the filet mignon with goat cheese and tomato salad with cilantro vinaigrette being quite delicious and KYLE making KIM’s addiction about herself, things are uneventful.
In the bathroom BRANDI consoles KIM while memories of the crystal meth remark linger in her now sober brain.
After a beautiful shot of the wine glasses on the long dinner table, KIM relinquishes her hostess powers and allows the women to sit where’er they desire. Little does she know her lack of leadership will allow for BRANDI to sit directly across from her. The UNIVERSE planned this.
Let me begin by saying that I moved to New York City because it’s New York City. You get it. I get it. Jay-Z gets it. We get it.
In an interview she says, “But wait. Who’s gonna carry Alex’s body if he’s dead? He’s still causing me so much grief. My life is so hard! My parents hate me.”