I wish I would drink more.
I blame BRAVO.
It may just be the rose-colored, knock-off Gucci sunglasses I’m looking through, but it seems all The Real Housewives (not to be confused with real housewives) seem to be skinny and glamorous and drinking at every occasion.
It’s lunch by the pool. Gauzy, translucent cover-ups. And wine.
Spa party? Egyptian cotton towels. And wine.
Dinner party? Cocktail dresses. And wine.
Tea party? Long, sundresses. And wine.
Oh no. We suspect so and so has a drinking problem. Designer jeans with strong intervention blazer. And wine, for everyone but so and so, at least until the next dinner party.
Drinking seems to be their reward at the end of a good day or the beginning of a good day. Or bad day. Or any day. I get it. We all need our happy place, but when I look to treat myself, I head straight to the freezer and pull out a tub of ice cream.
Ah, my friend, through good times and bad, you are there. Unfortunately, so are the five extra pounds that accompany you. I certainly don’t see any Housewives deep spooning a tub of Rocky Road. Most are waifs, saving their tiny bodies and huge mouths for trash talk and bottles of chardonnay.
So, I decided to take a lesson from the lovely ladies of BRAVO. Whether I like it or not, I would drink more so I can look and be more fabulous. Sometimes you just have to suck it up, or actually down, in this case.
I figured I’d start right out of the morning gate. No coffee for me. I’ll take a tall Bloody Mary, thank you. Mmm. Not bad. It made me want to actually sit down, something I never do. I even started flipping through a magazine to check out the over-the-top fashions I will soon be sporting instead of my old gym clothes. I was so into my new morning revelry that I neglected to check the clock. Crap! We just missed the bus, and I forgot to even wake the kids. Plus, now I can’t drive them to school. Damn you, BRAVO, where is my limo??!
The next time I tried my experiment was at the school social. I put on a long, pretty dress and big Kyle of RHBH earrings, and even though I was stuck doing my own hair and make-up, I decided to kick off the evening with a glass of wine to get myself in the mood. And it worked! I was sipping and singing while getting ready. So fun! Although before we left my husband did ask if I let our 5 year-old apply my makeup. Hmm. What could he mean by that? Eh, whatever, where’s my glass?
By the time we reached the party, I was two- three solid glasses in. The minute the valet opened my door to help me out, a wave of nauseous struck and left me clinging to him, quite inappropriately. “Bravo!” I slurred and gave his stunned face a pat. My husband gently put me back in the car and drove us back home. The drive of shame.
Maybe I was going about this wrong. All the BRAVO fun and fabulous happens when the gals get together. That’s it! So I invited my neighborhood Peeps over for some “Whine and Wine”. Come on, every good gathering needs a great theme! Shout out to the Bunco party!
We settled the kiddies in the playroom. Oh yeah, there are kids. We’re freaking real housewives! We can’t just leave them at home alone while we drink. Now that would be totally irresponsible. So I pop open a bottle. Okay, I twist off the top to get the party started.
We chat and drink and eat too many chips, but then, Jill’s kid threw a truck at Ann’s kid’s head. Stirred with a little Malbec, it had the makings of some exciting drama. I sat up Housewife straight, with my back arched, my eyes wide and my bra-enhanced chest out. I was wearing a low cut dress a la Housewives, so I wasn’t kidding about my chest being out. I was wishing I had served white so that when Jill threw a glass at Ann it wouldn’t stain my carpet, but my wishing was all in vain. Ann was fine, and the whole thing was brushed aside. Boooring.
Well, my experiment was a surgically enhanced bust. I was no BRAVO Housewife. The wine didn’t make my life more glamorous, it actually made me less glamorous. Case in point, when I looked in the mirror after we got home from the school social that I never attended, I saw I was wearing blue sparkle eye shadow and red lipstick. Uh, ew. I don’t even wear makeup! And drinking certainly didn’t make me thinner. In fact I gained three pounds, probably because I was eating more since I was drinking and didn’t care. Plus, no one wears to the floor dresses with full on cleavage and giant earrings to random events. I kind of looked like an idiot.
I think I need ice cream.
I blame BRAVO.