Are The Housewives of NY “White Trash?”

The highlight of my day was watching Ramona and Sonia google “white trash” to see if that’s what they were.

I was having a slow day.

But The Housewives, definitely white, sometimes trash-talking, are a guilty pleasure I DVR for times like this. My day involved being trapped in my apartment waiting for a delivery, wearing yoga pants and a t-shirt, and making interminable calls to doctors to get reports (luckily good), to Con Ed (don’t ask), and doing a lot of sighing.

Their day involved a gorgeous villa in St Barts, wearing wardrobes to die for, getting bombed and jumping in the pool (what the hell, it’s only a $2000 sundress), having fish pedicures (I’m not making this up: tiny fishies nibble at your calluses), and throwing a lot of hissy fits.

I’ve always loved the way each of them proclaim defiantly “I always” (fill in the blank): “apologize when I’m wrong,” “act like a lady,” “am loyal to my friends,” all the while yelling like fishwives (maybe it’s those pedicures), backbiting their way to fame and fortune, not to mention trips to uber-chic places like St. Barts, AKA Slutty Island. I wonder if these little adventures are paid for by Bravo. No matter: these broads can afford a jaunt to the Caribbean whenever they want, complete with hot and cold running servants (mostly hot), catered dinners, expensive restaurants, chauffeured limos. And did I mention the great clothes?

Money it appears, is not one of their problems.

But trying to figure out if they are White Trash is. 
Here’s what happened . . .

It involves the “new girl,” Aviva—well, new to me because lately I had not been watching this “reality” show, which is, of course, as remote from reality as Fifty Shades of Grey and often just as masochistic, and features women who are not “housewives” in any universe you know.

Anyway, back to Aviva. It seems that she has a fear of flying so she asked her husband to accompany her on the plane headed for the all-girl weeklong party thrown by Carole (of the “I may be a princess but I’m definitely not a drama queen” intro) at that super expensive villa on St. Barts. The other “housewives” are miffed, to put it politely, at the inclusion of a male, especially after Aviva has the audacity to plan a dinner for hubby and Carole’s boyfriend—without inviting the whole crew. How could she! Ramona and Sonia are especially aggrieved. The noive! The heartbreak of being left out! And then, the sting of being called “white trash.” By Aviva no less! Oh, the humanity.

I should have such problems.

Well, to be perfectly fair, and why the hell not, Carole does have a real problem: friends of hers were killed in a plane crash, and she’s had to listen to Aviva go on and on about being afraid of flying. And Aviva has something to deal with herself: a prosthetic leg, which she doesn’t make a big deal about and looks fabulous even in a bikini. Gotta give the woman her props for that.

But she did lose it (her temper, not her leg) at one point, tired of hearing Ramona and Sonia bitch about the men in the picture. As Ramona says, It’s Psychology 101. When you have an all-girl situation and you bring in a man, the whole dynamic changes.

True enough, but there are some mitigating circumstances for Aviva’s outburst. Sonia, who is, granted, free, white, and over 21 . . . admits–or brags even—about sleeping with Tomas, the island equivalent of Euro-trash and Johnny Depp lookalike. Aviva knows this for a fact because when she arrived she was told not to use a certain bedroom because the sheets were soiled.

More dirt is revealed, so to speak, but to get the full picture, you’ll have to watch the show. It’s on reruns on Bravo. Anyway, if it’s girls only, Aviva wants to know, what’s with all the guys after hours. The Countess her royal self also seems to have had a little extracurricular activity with Tomas, although she claims she was entertaining some Italian friends she “hasn’t seen in ages.” In her room. Speaking French. Not Italian. You’d think she would have come up with a better cover story. The only one acting like an adult was Heather (she read a book!) and that’s why she’s not featured prominently in this blog, proving once again that “No good deed goes unpunished.”

But back to the burning question:

Are Ramona and Sonia white trash?

Who am I to judge? I will say this, though. That phrase is usually preceded by the word “poor,” and in this case that hardly applies. Unless you mean poor in other senses. Like poorly informed: Do these women ever read a book or a newspaper, go to the theatre or even a movie? They never talk about anything but themselves, not even a teeny weeny reference to anything outside their little world. Well, not so little, if you count trips to outrageously expensive islands and such.

But who’s counting? I watch the show, don’t I. And it brought a few laughs into my not-so-glamorous day.

Although it wasn’t as much fun as a different kind of fashion event—the fancy Halloween party I attended some years ago. I went as Wonder Woman (couldn’t rig up a costume for The Girl Phantom, which I was writing at the time: I Was The Girl Phantom). Another couple, good-looking and quite well-to-do Park Avenue types, came dressed in large size garbage bags, he with a brown bag hat, she with a necklace of tuna fish cans, a bracelet of twistable ties, and a plastic baggie for a purse.

They were dressed, you guessed it, as . . Poor White Trash. 
I suppose even the housewives would get the irony. Or not.
Halloween’s coming, girls . . .

SO. ARE THEY OR AREN’T THEY. 
WHITE TRASH?