What do I do when I’m home alone?
I watch reality TV.
I was late arriving to the reality TV party. That word “reality” put me off until very recently. If you’ve read my previous blog posts, you’ll know that I prefer entertainment that isn’t too true to reality. Give me a “happily ever after” and I’m happy. However, after accidentally stumbling upon The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills at the end of last year, I’m now hooked.
I guess you could call watching the ladies of Beverly Hills stirring up a jaw-dropping amount of unnecessary trouble my guilty pleasure. The last couple of weekends, I’ve binge-watched entire seasons of The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills. I’m not entirely sure why I get suck a kick out of it. Maybe it has something to do with getting a peek into the lifestyles of the Rich and Famous for Being Famous. It’s a little like visiting a Disney Land created for grown ups without having to leave the comfort of my own home.
From the sparkling infinity pool and panoramic view from Lisa Vanderpump’s garden, to the Arabian tiled halls of Mohamed Hadid’s 48,000 square foot palace, the Housewives and their posse live amid an extravaganza of indulgence. Lisa’s designer shoe-filled, walk-in-closet is the size of most people’s houses. While I don’t need, want, or envy their possessions on account of my minimalist soul, I certainly relish feeling like a fly on the wall, witnessing how the privileged live. And did I mention they stir up a jaw-dropping amount of trouble? They do things that make my eyebrows take a hike north and say, “Really?”
