I’ve been trying to watch the first season of The Real Housewives of New York reboot for almost a year now. I wrote that I was “kind of” watching it back in October, when I first started this newsletter, and I actually made it a point to watch the premiere when it initially came out back in July 2023. I’ve never been an avid RH fan – I’m most familiar with the franchise through vintage Nene Leakes memes – but on the occasions I’ve watched full episodes I’ve been solidly entertained. But RHONY has failed to hook me, and after dipping back in this week, I just have to be honest: it’s profoundly boring. To my mind, the issue is too many “cool” girls and not enough personality. There are too many people in the cast who are fixated on having the right dress, living in the right neighborhood, making the right joke and not enough with a sharp sense of self and the corresponding defined perspective that makes for good TV (and an interesting life that’s worth living.)
I’m reminded of the conversations surrounding the “eclectic grandpa” style trend that you probably weren’t exposed to because you don’t have social media brain rot like me. Hannah Jackson, writing for Vogue, summed it up perfectly:
“The entire point of the trend is to dress like somebody who has spent a lifetime curating a collection of clothing and accessories that speak to his own individuality. But, as with all microtrends, one is supposed to accumulate these items seemingly overnight. The eclectic grandpa is a trend hellbent on commodifying an idea of personal style without actually having it.”
In this season of RHONY, there is a lot of grasping at the appearance of cultivating individuality and a genuine sense of self rather than actually doing it, and it shows. The saving grace of the cast – and main draw for me – is Jenna Lyons of Obama-era J.Crew fame, who has always been kind of a fabulously weird bitch. If you’re new to this newsletter (as many of you are – hey there!), “weird bitch” is a term of endearment and high praise around here – it’s how I primarily identify. Lyons is not your conventional Bravolebrity; it’s pretty hard to imagine her flipping a table or throwing a glass. She has an established, well-documented career and is proud of it; she’s obviously an introvert who’s particular about where she spends her time (her decision to leave a weekend trip out of the city at a fellow castmate’s Hamptons house to spend the night at her own Hamptons house is a hilariously vapid plot point); she’s kind of awkward and navigates social situations with large groups of women with the clear caution of someone who’s been bullied. She’s on the show but obviously not living for the show – which is precisely why the other cast members are obsessed with her though confused by their obsession.
They variously call her “weird,” an “oddball,” and “kind of cold” at different points in the season (which I have still yet to complete 🌚), yet feel offended when she can’t make it to their events. They choose hor d'oeuvres with her in mind; they vie endlessly for her approval, hoping to get her on their “side” in conflicts she plainly doesn’t give a shit about with other cast members. Essentially she’s just doing her – a key moment when the women try to dress her up in a more conventionally sexy Bravo babe gown, before she reverts to her classic menswear-inspired looks comes to mind– with no concern for the hierarchy of who’s popular in the cast. Ironically, that authenticity seems to be doing the trick. There’s something effortlessly magnetic about it – though of course, it’s anything but effortless. You can tell Lyons is someone who put in the work to become comfortable with who she is. It’s just that all the work that comes with becoming comfortable with yourself and leaving behind that ego-driven sensibility that you have to prove yourself to belong happens behind the scenes.
In contrast, the other cast members seem to be preoccupied with being the coolest, with the exception of Ubah Hassan, a model and entrepreneur who owns a hot sauce company. Hassan seems mostly concerned with vibing, being well fed, and securing a sexy husband who adores her (she’s another fave, if it wasn’t obvious.) But the other central cast members seem to have something to prove, which for some reason is just coming off as off-putting and artificial. To some extent, this is to be expected with Sai da Silva, an influencer whose career necessitates this kind of artifice. However, it’s also true of real estate agent Erin Lichy and fashion PR executive Jessel Taank, twisted mirrors of each other who hate each other, as fun house twins tend to do. They both give off the vibe of women who have always been “in crowd” because they had the bank accounts to afford entry, and they also both tend to be quite shady, and not in a funny way – which just makes them kind of mean. They’re courting Lyons because to have her approval confers status, not realizing that’s the case because she doesn’t care about status – at least, not in the same way. She knew that she would never be the conventional “cool girl” (in addition to being six feet tall, Lyons has a genetic disorder that’s left her covered with scars and is the reason she wears a wig, fake teeth, and lash extensions) and so she refined her unique point of view, living and dressing and acting just as she wanted to, creating her own lane of what “cool” would look like for her.
I harp all the time about “being yourself” – as if it’s that simple – but I truly believe that is the key to living our best lives, whatever that means for you. What makes you you that no one else can take from you? That no one else can successfully copy? Leaning into this has brought me closer and closer to living my life’s purpose (and so Future Lola’s wardrobe full of archive Versace draws nearer and nearer.) I find that people who are most interesting to us are the ones who are just doing them, abandoning expectation to live true to themselves by carving out a new path. These iconoclasts become influential – in the way that Lyons’s sequins + chambray + statement necklace became the uniform of a certain kind of woman in the 2010s – but it’s not because of the way they dress or the way they style their homes or the way they talk. It is because of the way that they live; it’s because the energy of someone who has let go of the need to fit in is dynamic, affecting those who come into contact with it – and that energy is what they seek to emulate, not their look or their voice. It’s just harder to do the work to figure out what your version of that fulfillment is instead of filling your cart, hoping your Amazon wishlist will give you the same sense of self you’re admiring in them.
I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: do your work.
That’s it from me this week! Last Sunday, paid subscribers read All the World’s a Stage, some thoughts on embracing being the main character and developing an alter ego after abandoning my long-standing allegiance to side character energy. Here’s an excerpt:
Historically, I am a proud proponent of side character energy, as I once declared. For many years, I preferred to turn a look and deliver a funny one-liner before going on my merry way, devoid of the character development and personal growth that being a true protagonist requires. But embodying side character energy creates a side character life: a life where things just happen to you to serve someone else’s plot, a life where you are a tool for enriching others’ narratives with no interiority or momentum of your own.
All that to say: I’m in my Sasha Fierce era and I’m loving it. Next week I’m back with some thoughts on turning thirty, because that milestone is just around the corner for me!! Happy Taurus season everybody – give your favorite Taurus some money to celebrate!
Lola xx