When the Housewives set sail for South Beach, I was pretty pumped.
Ever since The Real World: Miami, The Birdcage, and my brief stopover in the Miami airport, I've been a fan of the city's flavor.
But what would this batch of 'Wives bring us? A season filled with blazers and v-neck tees? Lots of people doing Robin Williams' "Martha Graham" dance?
But then, there's a premiere episode that included Scottie Pippen doing yoga?! C'mon, how do you not adore that!
There were so many memorable moments to the Miami ladies that I could barely contain myself. It was just a treasure trove of goodness. Let us head straight to Florida and never return. Get me some slacks, call me a snowbird, and never take me back New York. Forget this frozen tundra -- give me Florida!
Let's start with Lea: Lea and I have a lot in common. We love crazy people. Like a moth to insanity's flame, I cannot get enough of the sort of oddball degenerates and wack-a-doos she also seems to adore. To use a Ke$ha-term, I like your steez, Lea. She also throws a mean party, or so she claims. And if that shindig doesn't turn out as she'd hope: "I just get them drunk." Ah, the hostess with the mostest indeed.
But it's not all party times. Each batch of ‘Wives comes with its own adorable set of tots, and this season proves to be no different. You have Adriana's precious son Alex, complete a mop of glorious curls and an awareness of boat-viewing responsibilities. Alexia's sons Peter (who wants to, and should be, a model) and Frankie have lots of questions about grass-fed animals. There's Lea's son Roy Jr. who is perfecting his Mona Lisa (albeit with curiously-sized feet instead of a sideways smile). And of course the entire Pippen brood should be drafted for the Chicago Adora-Bulls (see what we did there).
But this season also gives us something delightful on the older end of the family spectrum, an octogenarian with oracle powers, Elsa.
Elsa has a supernatural pull over my heart. She wants to know what French people are like in bed! She's not a charlatan! She has modern sensibilities! She says things like, "I'm a woman of this century, Marysol. I'm not a Victorian lady."
The Housewives have been trending towards telepathics. In the last year we've had a cluster of clairvoyants appear (the Richards' bring-your-own-mother's-ashes-with-you gal, to Kim Z's baby predicting psychic, to the incomparable Allison DuBois), but leave it to the Miami ladies to put the hot in psychic hotline. Not only will she analyze how you feel about your man-friend, but Cristy even has a seer in the side-pocket. A lovely psychic wearing sunglasses to prevent confusion from the present instructs her about what's ahead.
There’s a lot to cover, obviously, but I want to quickly address my three favorite moments of the episode.
Moment One: Larsa Pippen Packing Heat
As someone who's a pretty mean shot (I did some major damage at Big Buck Hunter this weekend, folks), I love watching people shoot guns (in the safety of a range!). Larsa is no Sarah Palin, even if she is aware that Stop, Drop, and Roll is for fires. Still kudos to you Larsa! You take that target home to show Mr. Pippen. He's going to be as proud of you as you were of his downward dog skills.
Moment Two: The Clurb
Every season needs to have someone who gets a bit bawdy, and I feel Adriana will provide our Lisa Vanderpump levels of horn dog-ness. After cruising on nearly ever gent at the Miami Fashion week (lady knows how to spot a nicely carried crown jewel) and strutting the catwalk, the ladies take it to the nightlife at Casa Tua. Here she's in her prime element, flirting with some gents, culminating in a lovely sandwich dance. (It's like riding a horse, or so they say). Always glorious to begin a season with some good, clean, grindin'.
Moment Three: The Dinner Party
I loved every mandolin-slicing moment. Maybe it's because avocados are my life-force, maybe it's because I was as addicted to Lea on her Blackberry as Leas was to her Blackberry, or maybe it was because I so adored the big reveal of Adriana's past, but I consider this meal a harbinger of things to come. This season's going to be spicy and it's going to be phenomenal. I hope you downloaded your Will Smith singles, and dusted off your blazers (to wear with nothing underneath, obvs). It's Miami time!