The Real Housewives of New York City Recap: Personal Victories

The Real Housewives of New York City
A Shot of Mess-Cal
Season 15 Episode 6
Editor’s Rating ★★★
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I’m not going to sugarcoat it: This season of RHONY is light on drama, theatrics, and pyrotechnics. But after this episode, I don’t really mind. I fully enjoyed the hour, not because there was fighting and chaos, but because we got some insight into several of the women’s personal lives. We got an art event, we got a fancy cocktail launch, we got fashions, and we got some sob stories. I don’t know that’s plenty of action for me on a Tuesday night. (Particularly this Tuesday night.)

The first thing that fascinates me is Racquel. Well, it’s not even Racquel. For the second week in a row she has worn a garment that neither science nor magic can fully explain. When she takes her hottie fiancée Mel to an art show, Racquel is wearing a puffer jacket. Wait, I take it back. She is wearing the idea of a puffer jacket, but that jacket has puffed on, I don’t know, maybe the devil’s lettuce, maybe a little bit of Tina, because it is not behaving like a jacket. It has sleeves, but Racquel’s arms are not in them. So it has holes for the sleeves, but also sleeves? And what is up with the neck? It’s like a wrap-around that is big enough to contain several heads. Is this a jacket that is made for two, which is why it has both sleeves and holes? Wait, is this a couple’s sleeping bag that Racquel fashioned into a puffer? I am so confused, but also, I don’t know, into it maybe? 

I am also very into Mel. If lesbians wanted to have sex with men, I swear I would be bisexual. I have two types: preppy dudes who look like they are intimately familiar with both the gym and their local Domino’s delivery guy and chic lesbians. Mel might be the overlap in the Venn diagram. Know who doesn’t like lesbians? Racquel’s mother. When they’re at the art event, Racquel talks to Mel about how her mother used to come visit all the time but has not been to New York in a decade because she doesn’t like that Racquel started dating women. “You know Racquel, women are very jealous,” her mom told her, and that is pretty much the only conversation they’ve had about Racquel’s queer identity. That makes me so sad. Imagine if her mom was invited and didn’t come to the wedding? I would be devastated, and I met these two less than two months ago. 

That wasn’t Racquel’s only time opening up. She has lunch with Ubah and Sai and tells them that she dumped her ex, artist Mickalene Thomas, and not everyone in the art world was happy about it. For those who aren’t up on the contemporary art market, Mickalene Thomas is a big freakin’ deal. Her record at auction is nearly $2 million for a work that features none other than our Racquel. Their breakup was featured in “Page Six” before Racquel became a Housewife, so you know they were both legit.

When Racquel broke up with her and then started dating Mel, there were rumors that she was cheating with Mel and that Mel was a homewrecker. Because of that, many in the art world snubbed both Mel and Racquel to show allegiance to Mickalene. (Lesbian art-world drama? Is this The L Word?) She also says that they initially kept their breakup a secret because there would be financial implications, adding that people in the art world are going to follow whoever can make them money. So far, Racquel hasn’t really popped in group scenes, we don’t know where her allegiances lie, and we haven’t really seen her tussle with anyone. But every time she opens her mouth to talk about her life I am sat. I am sat more than Garfield on a Monday after eating a whole tray of lasagna to make himself feel better because, ugh, Mondays.

I am equally sat for the conversation between Jessel and Pavit at a gorgeous-looking but also empty Chinese restaurant. What time are they dining? Like 4:30 p.m.? When they arrive there is not a soul in the whole establishment. Even the line cooks are in the back alley having a pre-shift ciggy and are like, “Oh shit! Someone is here!” J&P Music Factory sits down and orders the whole menu so that Pavit can eat while Jessel tries to convince him to go to therapy to talk about whether or not they should have a daughter. 

Their dynamic is absolutely fascinating. Jessel is right, Pavit likes to joke and I think he plays into this persona of not wanting to spend money, hating luxury, making fun of his excessive wife. I get it; it’s a good persona. However, I totally understand how Jessel is frustrated that this guy can’t stop taking pictures of his fried chicken to have an honest and difficult conversation. I love a funny guy, but there are times when jokes aren’t appropriate. 

I’m with Jessel: These two should get therapy. I think every couple should have therapy. I’m not as crazy as Jenna, getting preemptive therapy, but I would if that would make me lesbian enough for Mel to have a cheeky make-out sesh with me on a dance floor somewhere. I think couples therapy is great and way better than an astrologer, which Jessel says Indians would rather spend their money on than a therapist. If I could find a therapist who was also an astrologer, though, I would be lying down on that fainting sofa and talking about my rising sign faster than Elon Musk retweets a conspiracy theory.

I think therapy is the perfect thing for these two. (It sure was the perfect thing for my relationship.) I don’t think therapy means that your relationship is in trouble, but I feel like many couples get to these roadblocks, and no amount of fighting or discussion will get them past it. That’s when they need a therapist, someone completely objective who might be able to put a different spin on things and get the couple to a resolution so that they can move on until their next roadblock. So do it, Pavit. Make Jessel take you for a burrito after and just get it all arranged, will you? 

There isn’t much personal chat at Erin Mew Mew Lichy’s big Cinco de Mayo party to launch her mescal brand (which I will not be linking to), but I will say that it seems like a fun and chic event. It also introduces us to her business partner and former lover, Chris. Um, did you guys see Chris? He’s blonde, he’s preppy, he’s rich, he is at Equinox every morning at 5 a.m., and he has the Domino’s app in his phone for sure. 

What I love about Erin is that dunking on her is so easy. What does she mean that she went to Tulum in 2012 and she discovered mezcal like she’s Columbus in 1492 sailing on the ocean blue? That’s when she decided that she not only discovered mezcal, but she was going to also introduce it to America in the year of our lord 2024 because, as of yet, no one in the U.S. had ever tasted it before. Mezcal did not exist until Erin Mew Mew Lichy and thank the Catholic Jesus for her. 

That’s what I love about Erin: She has the same unchecked delusion as most of our greatest Housewives. It wouldn’t be fun if she was pretending she discovered mezcal, but she really does believe it. She believes that she created a whole new market segment, and we will allow her to continue to think that so we can continue to make fun of her. Oh, that delusion also spreads to her Cinco de Mayo party. She says, “I know it’s an American holiday,” but she’s still doing it! She’s going to do it even though she knows she’s wrong because she thinks that if she is wrong enough then she is right? Or maybe she knows it’s wrong but thinks no one will notice so she did it anyway like, ahem, certain donations she’s made in the past.

Erin’s best moment, however, is when they’re at the table talking about what a basic bitch means and she asks Brynn if the ladies think she’s a basic bitch. Brynn says that they for sure do. Erin says, “I’m a Karen.” This is the first moment of true, honest insight Erin has ever displayed, and while I am delighted she knows that she is both a basic bitch and a Karen, I’m a little bit sad that the self-delusion is gone. 

Not much happens at the party, really. Apparently, Brynn is still mad at Ubah and Sai, but they all seem like they have decided to “sweep it under the rug” and pretend like it’s not happening. That is not very Housewives of them, but it is very new RHONY of them, so I’m going to let it slide. I wish they would engage a little bit though. Erin told Ubah that Brynn was talking shit about her (and mocking her accent, which is never a good look) on their shopping trip with Jessel. When Ubah brings it up, Erin says, “It’s not that deep.” Then why even bring it up? Why even tell her about it? If it’s deep enough to bring up it’s deep enough to talk about. That’s what I think Ubah is talking about with the pigeons. Everyone is bringing her this information, but then no one wants to act on it, no one wants to talk about it, no one wants to make it go away.

But I don’t entirely understand Ubah’s world view when it comes to who is telling her what. As they’re all sitting around the table, Ubah takes a swig straight from the carafe, and Jessel tells her that there is a glass on the table for her. Ubah says she doesn’t drink from a glass because she’s not a “basic bitch” like Jessel. Okay, if she’s drinking a pumpkin-spice latte out of that glass, then maybe she is basic, but drinking water out of a glass rather than an ewer is not basic. It’s just, I don’t know, human? Like, yeah, we all do it, but it’s been working for millennia to support human existence, so why mess with it? It’s not basic if you would literally die without doing it. 

What upset me though is that Ubah isn’t mad at Jessel about that, she’s mad at Jessel knew that Brynn was talking shit about her on the shopping trip. She says Jessel is basic for not telling her that her friends are talking about her behind her back. But wait. Isn’t that pigeoning? Isn’t that what upsets Ubah the most, when people are talking shit rather than engaging with the person they’re upset with? So Ubah doesn’t want people in the group to talk shit about each other unless they’re talking shit about who others in the group are talking shit about? Or is it just when it pertains to Ubah? If you don’t rat out the pigeon (rats and pigeons, how New York!) then that makes you a pigeon too? 

I don’t get it, and honestly, I don’t care. I don’t need these women’s drama, their hands all converging in the center of the table and saying they’re moving on, they’re calling their loved ones to bitch about perceived slights that they’re never going to bring up to the person who caused them. I don’t need any of that as long as they can keep telling stories and having frank conversations that have me way more riveted than some joke with a scroll.