Cast Blog: #RHONY

Scary and Mysterious and Magical

Ramona on Her Divorce From Mario

Carole on Elitists and Bitches

Heather Says That's a Wrap

Sonja: Don't Take Yourself Too Seriously

The Countess: Sonja and I Are on the Outs

Aviva Says Bye for Now

Kristen on Surviving Her First Season

LuAnn: For Ramona Ignorance Is Bliss

Who Cares How Carole Wrote Her Book?

Carole on Stupid Things You've Heard on Bravo

Aviva's "Foul Ignorance"

Kristen: Ramona's Out of Touch with Reality

Sonja Is Very Private

Ramona on the Grueling Reunion

LuAnn: Sonja Is Off the Rails

Heather: Et tu Ramona Singer?

Aviva on Kristen's "Gatemouth" Look

Kristen: Sonja Could Be Successful

Sonja's Glad Aviva Threw Her Leg

Carole: Waiter, We're Done

Ramona: Aviva's Leg Scared All of Us

Heather Focuses on What Matters

LuAnn: Sonja Only Has Herself to Blame

What Else Does Aviva Have in That Bag?

Aviva: Leggy Blonde

God Gave me a Great Ass and His Approval

Sonja on Her Harry Situation with LuAnn

Ramona: Where Did the Time Go With Avery?

Heather Tips to Plan a Party for Carole

Aviva Rises Above the Nonsense

Love Kristen Tender

Sonja and Harry Aren't Good for Each Other

Ramona: Mario's Voice Is So Sexy

Aviva Defends Her Asthma

Heather's Sasha Fierce Moment

Nothing Is Too Romantic for Sonja

LuAnn: I Sing When I Feel Like Singing

Kristen: This Show Has Helped My Marriage

Carole: Oh Beautiful for Spacious Skies. . .

Ramona: Just Don't Ask Me to Go Every Year

Scary and Mysterious and Magical

Associate Editor Kim Moreau shares her caftan measurements and comments on Part 1 of the Moroccan triology.

Hello my fellow caftan-wearers,

It's finally here! The Moroccan trilogy has begun. And just like Star Wars we will find out that Sonja was  Ramona's mother the entire time after Ramona loses a hand.

JK! Nothing that traumatizing will happen -- or not at least physically.

Since we are in a foreign place, I felt I shouldn't continue my usual recap system of a moment for each of the boroughs. So instead of trying to figure out the Moroccan borough system (none, apparently), I'm just going to go Top 5 on your djellabas.

Honorable Mention: Jill Zarin's Reading Glasses

A 30 some-odd hour plane ride necessitates comfort, and Jill's spectacles provide just that. Plus they gave some gravitas and adorability to her Bobby Zarin-penned toast (Bobby, not holding back!) and her assertions of when the Jews made it to Morocco. And Jill, no, you do not look like a bumblebee in your tennis outfit.


Number 5: Ramona Singers Travel Rider

Packing is an art. Do you roll up your socks into your shoes? Do you make do with just a carry-on and TSA-approved toiletries? Do you bring each piece from your highly successful jewelry line and its coordinating stand? If you're Ramona Singer the answer to that last question is always yes. And so what if you need a little help getting yourself situated. It's a large house to not have help (someone get that woman a "ding ding" as she requested). And if your co-traveler wants to stand with the van until her bags is accounted for, so be it! It's vacation! You want everything at the homestead to be just so -- that way you can roll through town in your van looking at "poverty" and "dust" without worrying if your things will be in order back at home.

Number 4: HangerGate

Like many of the great mysteries we may never know the truth about who took Cindy's hangers. But if it gave us these two amazing bits of imagery wasn't it all worthwhile?

"Of course we are you dumb fool, you're acting like an a--hole." -- Ramona Singer

And this photo:


LuAnn de Lesseps, problem solver.

Number 3: Ramona and Sonja's Escape from Witch Riad

If you happen to have the sort of viewing device that allows you to pause your episode, I strongly urge you to freeze it when LuAnn realizes Sonja and Ramona are fleeing up the stairs and away from her. Her crestfallen expression as her she realizes her attempts to lure them with the promise of white wine and caftans has so spectacularly failed is indeed one of the most sad-larious things I have ever witnessed. Oh LuAnn, they had to work out their feminine hygiene product sharing system. It's not you.. .OK, maybe Ramona said it was you.

Number 2: They're Some Cold-Hearted Snakes, Look Into Their Eyes, Wa-Oh, They've Been Telling Lies

I don't know that I could make any jokes or witty repartee that measures up to how delightful the snake charmer actually was. My new happy thought is Cindy yelling "Alright, Jill take it off ya' head." Just watch the whole thing now! Oh God, and that dance breakdown afterwords. Truly we've done something right for this entire sequence to have happened.





Number 1: Wheel of Fortune!

Messing with the future is always a risky proposition. I myself try to stay out of it as much as possible (I don't even like those coffee pots that you can set the night before! Too presumptuous if you ask me). So when the ladies pulled up a kitchen stool (literally they were practically having their palms read in the cabinet) I was nervous. There was a high percentage someone was not going to be pleased.

And we began to tick off the options: Jill Zarin talks a lot -- alright, so far this lady has only proven herself an avid series watcher, nothing too revelatory. Kelly may get another little jelly bean in her oven -- she actually wants that, so hoorah! Sonja needs to learn the importance of love over money -- not the most gentle reading, but useful information for anyone (though hats like this don't buy themselves).

And then it was sweet Ramo's turn. As she clutched the card to he breast (which was that a special instruction she received or was she more thorough than her counterparts?) those who knew limited French (me!) were instantly aware -- c'est non bon news (pardon the Franglish). Une Autre Femme!??! Fade to cliffhanger!? What?! Find Mario! Bring him to me and let's solve this. I can't wait another week to know what truth awaits -- or for this:



Let's prepare by spending the next seven days quaffing Moroccan tea and reading our own auras! I need more Morocco now!

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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