So Chic, Very Chic: The Red Wedding
Game of Thrones is a series that precedes my own life, and at this pace, it will probably outlive me, too. Even if George R. R. Martin, bless his soul, does not.
There is an episode from the television adaptation of the same name that has eclipsed most others from the show, even others of the same decade on various other programs of its prestigious ilk. Season three episode nine’s “The Rains of Castamere,” known as The Red Wedding in the book. Characters are killed off, characters are forever changed. The plot hinges on it, in many ways, and it was the most anticipated television event that year besides Breaking Bad’s season five episode “Ozymandias,” or for real television enjoyers, series finale of Enlightened, “Agent of Change.” (The Good Wife’s stellar fifth season notwithstanding.)
In many ways, “The Rains of Castamere” is a perfect crystallization of the late-stage pop monoculture once enjoyed by both residents of the internet and the real world. The exact thing you could tweet about with strangers on the internet, talk about with the cashier at the bodega, and crack a joke about in the office meeting the next morning — despite Jeff in Accounting’s protestation that he hadn’t seen it yet. It was the final days of a world that no longer exists, now irreparably fractured and consolidated at the same time. Scarcer options for good television, infinite ways to watch them, and an upcoming generational cohort more interested in watching people stream Roblox’s “Dress to Impress” on TikTok.
For Bravo enjoyers, this translated into events of our own, like the infamous “Scary Island,” or the reunion where Phaedra and Porsha were unmasked, or Jen Shah’s arrest. Conversely, the recent season of Dubai has mismanaged its cast and their increasingly fake interpersonal drama, failing to achieve a singular breakthrough akin to the worst seasons of early Real Housewives of Beverly Hills, let alone Game of Thrones’ “The Rains of Castamere”.
They also wore entirely red ensembles to the reunion, hence the extended musing on “The Red Wedding.” Shall we dissect the fashions?
The Real Housewives of Dubai
Chanel Ayan
Look at our girl! She’s out here living that life, Von Dutch, cult classic! For her final outing this season, she wore what’s generally accepted as the crowning give-up outfit for the winner of Canada’s Drag Race — hello, Icesis Couture! Red is her color, which we already knew, and its a predictable statement piece. It’s also not my favorite look from her, not by a long shot, and I think it’s in desperate need of a thorough trimming. Either she loses the crown, or the florals, or the beaded gown. Sadly, she should not have all three, but she chose to buck sense and do it anyway. Love her or hate her, she’s certainly someone who beats to her own drum. It makes for good television!
Lesa Milan
Lesa, on the other hand, looks downright radiant in this sculptural marvel. It’s like liquid metal in the process of folding itself around the body of an angel. I wish the small drop earrings were slightly more noticeable on camera, or that she’d opted for a tiny teardrop necklace. Minor nitpicks, of course. I say this with full reverence: It’s like the dyed carapace of a Xenomorph auctioned off and made into couture on Earth in the far future. That, or she got quite the deal from a Dubai atelier. Either or, I’m satisfied.
Caroline Brooks
There’s something desperately glamorous about Caroline’s appearance this reunion. Like a woman on her last leg, dolled up for one more trip around the Portofino villa before the feds close in on her husband for an international criminal enterprise. Or like a woman James Bond is about to ask to jump off a roof with him. It’s kind of spooky, right? Like she’s a woman on the verge, no fucks left to give but the Big Fuck, her crash out imminent, closet empty but the red dress to end red dresses.
The glam, likewise, is like she’s stepped out of a different time. A technicolor golden age beauty with a transatlantic accent. I don’t know what’s come over me! I’m haunted by her entire look and demeanor. I’ll never forget it as long as I live.
Look at them all, dripped in wealth of questionable origins, bloody with the offerings of the masses, pumped and plumped and pricked and preened and heavily pruned. I’m not quite sure we’ll ever see them again, if this season’s lackluster ratings and critical reception are anything to go by. Who knows! If they do, I only care about Caroline Stanbury’s updos and Chanel Ayan’s ballgowns returning to television. The rest of this television snoozefest can be left out in the desert to rot, worn down by the ever shifting sands of time.
The Real Housewives of Orange County
Gina Kirschenheiter, Alexis Bellino, Katie Ginella
Hi Katie and Alexis! Besides the specific shade of dusty blonde in Alexis’ hair, I’ve not much to say about the two of you. Rather, I’m here to address Gina’s shearling coat. Remember the infamous cerulean monologue from The Devil Wears Prada? That’s how I feel when I look at this jacket, and then look at the deeply discounted Acne shearling aviator in my closet, which I bought with Joe Biden’s money after the website I worked for imploded. From Acne to Macy’s and back around to the FWRD post-winter sale.
Also, she comments at one point she looks like an astronaut, which led me to wonder what exactly Gina thinks astronauts look like.
For a split second I began to panic, then frantically dug into my vintage cowhide purse I went out with last night, grabbed the Gucci sunglasses I bought with the money I made on that Chappell Roan cover earlier this summer, and compared them to Emily’s. They are thankfully not the same Gucci glasses, but they could have been. They actually could have been. Isn’t that a spooky thought? It says more about me than it will ever say about her.
Tamra Judge and Alexis Bellino
Alexis is once again ancillary to this column, and I’d like to move on. The real fixation for me is Tamra’s hat. Is there a reason that suburbanites everywhere like to return to the range on trips to literally anywhere? The range meaning a mid-tier steakhouse in Omaha, Nebraska, or a “hair studio” in Salt Lake City, Utah. The perseverance of the wide brimmed hat in pop iconography deserves a proper study, I think.
Photos courtesy of NBCUniversal/ Bravo
Game of Thrones is a series that precedes my own life, and at this pace, it will probably outlive me, too. Even if George R. R. Martin, bless his soul, does not. There is an episode from the television adaptation of the same name that has eclipsed most others from the show, even others of…