Cast Blog: #RHONY

Channeling the Devil?

Alex talks Fashion Week(end), new Housewife Sonja, Simon's shopping spree, and Ramona's runway walk!


Wow, I’m writing this blog from sunny Los Angeles where we are about to hit the South Coast Plaza Borders to do a signing of Little Kids, Big City – we are loving the great comments from our readers on Facebook and our website!

Welcome to Sonja Morgan! (It’s about bloody time…) She is fab – with the intelligence of someone who doesn’t depend on others for success in this world, regardless of whom she married. We became fast friends and I’m only sorry I didn’t meet her ten years ago! My favorite thing about Sonja is that anytime I invite her to a party she always brings a bevy of cute guys.

Brooklyn Fashion Week{end} was a great success, despite comments from the front row. We raised money for the Brooklyn Style Foundation to mentor young and low-income designers, and I was thrilled that Loris Diran helped the cause by showing his beautiful collection (which you can get either at his boutique or Bergdorfs.) Derek was a star, ditto Alegra, Joe, Jeremey, Eddie and several of the ladies came out in support.

I had organized hair, makeup and a dress from Loris for Jill, and she was nothing but complimentary to me backstage so I was a bit surprised to see the footage and discover that she was so cranky at the show. Jill didn’t seem to expect that she would see edgy young designers at the show; I really don’t know what she thought she was attending. Maybe she missed the other fabulous dresses because was looking at the floor or maybe she was mesmerized by Ramona’s walk. Something really did click into place though – when I walked she said I was channeling the devil. I’m going to ask you to remember that phrase, as you might hear it again from someone else. Things that make you go hmmmm. I was so happy that Ramona and Kelly walked in the show, and even though Ramona got nervous, she put her heart and soul into Brooklyn Fashion Week{end} for that evening and I appreciated that.


Next up, Simon and Kelly go shopping! I love to see Simon shop and figured they would have fun together, though he certainly didn’t need a Kelly makeover. When Kelly asked me if she could go shopping with Simon, I made an appointment for them at John Varvatos, a designer he and I both love, and our good friend Robert was there to make sure nothing went awry. The final combination Kelly put together was a little overloaded, though every piece he bought was amazing and he’s been getting great use out of all of them (just not all at the same time!)

Jill hosted an event for Kodak and Ramona got feisty, which could have been saved for another time. However, there’s absolutely nothing one person at a cocktail party can say that would harm an endorsement deal, so unless Ramona wrote an article slamming them in the Wall Street Journal there wasn’t much her comments could do to hurt the deal.

I’d love to chat more but have to run away to our book signing – happy watching!

Carole on Elitists and Bitches

Carole says what she really thinks of Aviva and all of her talk about her book and things being "ghetto."

Dear Fans,

Let me start with something I stole it from Twitter this week. "The most dangerous liars are those who think they are telling the truth."

I'll say it again. The blonde at the end of the right couch, the one who's prone to lobbing limbs and insults, is an Insulting. Bitch. Some of you didn't believe me. Maybe some of you still don't. But after watching the reunion shows I imagine it's harder and harder to cheer for the anti-hero. Just when you think she can't get any faker she does.

The story according to Aviva makes me laugh: We were arguing, she insulted me, I called her a psychopath and that prompted her to affectionately compliment me on my age. Sure. Her disdain for the intelligence of the audience is palpable. It was too stupid for me to even reply. But as I was watching the reunion, and particularly Aviva and the way she treats people, I was reminded of something my Grandma Millie used to say. (I love everything Grandma Millie used to say.) "At 25, you have the face you're born with. At 45 you have the face you deserve."

I'd rather be 50 and me than be 45 and Aviva, any day of the week. She aged worse this season than a president in his first term. Holy short dress, I don't mind at all how I look. Overbite and all. I'll take it.

When I first met Aviva she was lovely. Really lovely. I meant what I said on the couch, I wish we had seen more of that. Her easy laugh and funny neurotic ways. Instead all we saw was a mean and angry woman. All because I asked her if she hired a writer -- a writer she did hire. It makes no sense. Three years ago she told me she'd read my memoir, What Remains. This was a book published in 2006 about my childhood, my family, my career and marriage, and then the death of my husband, Anthony Radziwill. A man I loved more than anyone I had loved before or have loved since. She gushed over my book. She quoted from it. We hugged. She seemed so sincere. Flash forward and she now believes it was written by a ghostwriter. She even knew his name, and it wasn't Truman Capote. It was Bill Whitworth, she told me. She repeated this over and over to anyone who would listen. And it doesn't matter how many times she repeats it -- it will never make it true.

When they stopped listening she started saying in the press and on social media that not only was my book written by someone else but that it was not my place to have written a book about my life, and my marriage. And, as if I didn't remember, she reminded me that I'd written about people who had died. Um, yeah. I know. It was my husband and my family and my closest friend who died. Just. . .wow. But I wasn't important enough to tell my story because my husband's family was famous, or historic or whatever she said. Because they had money and privilege and yachts. Really. Who do I think I am?

I’ll tell you. I’m a girl from upstate New York who grew up in a loving, if sometimes kooky, Italian working class family. I worked for everything I earned, just like my parents did and their parents before them. I have a proud family history of hard work and small but precious rewards that followed. My family won't be in any history books. I didn't grow up privileged. We didn't spend summers in Europe or Christmas in Palm Beach. A day spent at the town pool or playing in the woods behind our house was great. Much like Heather, I was taught strong values and decent manners. I learned to live with integrity and honesty. I'm proud of my upbringing and the woman I became, as was my husband. As is his family to this very day. I've known people who lived in what Aviva would consider the "ghetto" who have more class and decency than she shows.

All this talk about class and ghetto -- you'd think we were living in communist Russia. Here is the thing. This is America. In our country it doesn't matter a lick where you are from, it only matters where you're going. So don’t let anyone tell you that you aren't good enough because you didn’t grow up on Park Avenue or in a family that had some history, or because you enjoy saying mother-f---er now and then. I’ve met people from all walks of life. I spent time in refugee camps in Southeast Asia, and in the projects of Chicago. I've been to State dinners with Presidents. I met the Queen of England on a beach in Anguilla. No one is any more valuable or important than you are. No one is more important than your family and your friends.

Let the elitists go slow into the night.

In spite of the BookGate dust up I had a great time this season. I made wonderful new friends in LuAnn and Kristen and my friendship with Heather is more special and important to me than I could have ever imagined just three years ago. Friends have each other's backs. I love her, madly. And while we didn't always act appropriately, we had a lot of laughs. I hope you did too.

Thank you all for your supportive and funny and brilliant tweets. And while we didn't all agree on everything all of the time I enjoyed your participation in the show. Even the mean tweets about my skinny neck and my overbite were amusing. Like I said, I've stolen some tweets already. You may see others as dialogue in my next book, and yes, you can all say you were my ghostwriters.

As always,

With love, Writer Girl xoxo

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