Real Housewives Of Atlanta Recap: ShipWRECKED!
December 1, 2015 by admin
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All aboard the S.S. Krayonce for Bravo’s version of the Titanic, with far less hearts going on and a lot more going off on others. Last night on Real Housewives Of Atlanta a 3 hour cruise went horribly wrong and some Housewives panicked under pressure. It was every Housewife for herself with only unlimited booze, bikinis, and some very extra ‘Friends’.
Before all that Kenya Moore decides to be neighborly by walking over to Chateau Sheree where Sheree Whitfield is sweeping the front porch. What type of so-called exclusive, upscale neighborhood has a highway running through it? Highway 666 judging by the neighbors!
Kenya marvels at the size of Chateau Sheree and tries to barge in, but can’t open the door. Did Sheree get She By SheVicted?! To distract her, Sheree demands, “Where my cookies at?!”
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Kenya and Sheree decide to make a frienemy bet over who will be in their house first. The deadline: Christmas. Kenya’s house is “gutted”; more accurately it has no exterior walls or a roof, just some skeletal remains! Maybe it was shipwrecked in the flooded sewer? Anyway, whoever loses the bet has to clean the other person’s … Tyvek wrap?
Speaking of shipwrecked… Kenya is throwing a re-separated ‘bachelorette’ party for Cynthia Bailey.
In other relationships that are going nowhere and sinking faster, Porsha Williams is trying to hold onto Duke’s hand while he crosses the street country for football practice. Porsha and Phaedra Parks visit a sex shop for goodies Porsha can wear while sex-Skyping Duke. “He needs to remember how juicy this Georgia peach is!” she announces. Porsha decides to show-off her peach pit in a super-skanky Britney Spears “Hit Me Baby One More Time” costume. Ironically, Porsha has the maturity of a high schooler, and is almost as intelligent. Plus she’s dating a boy who graduated last week!.
“Porsha might be working a little too hard for this young lad,” observes Phaedra, stating the obvious. “But it is none of my business to ask her when I am not asked.” Of course Phaedra, an appreciator of the arts, buys some skanky lingerie all her own. For conjugal visits with Apollo?!
Kandi Burruss is taking it easy because she’s pregnant. Cue Don Juan calling her at home with his unproductive lecture her on”keeping her weight good” despite her “food addiction.” While that is totally true – didn’t his mama ever warn him not to discuss a woman’s weight?! Don Juan better watch it before Kandi confuses him with a chicken leg and bites his head off. Nom, Nom, Nom!
Luckily Kandi receives a visit from Cynthia, of the Pit of the Peach Peachter, and he is laying down more of those roots in Charlotte to outrun his failed Bar One business in ATL.
Kandi confesses to Cynthia that she and Todd are buying a building to open a family restaurant. Cynthia is like GIRL NO! – a restaurant steals your husband’s soul and takes him far, far away from you.
Seriously – Cynthia acts like she’s the only woman alive whose husband works away from home… Uh – it’s like 2 hours away! What about military spouses!? Of course, Cynthia probably doubts Peter is actually working… My Magic Hate Ball predicts another bankrupt business for Peachter and Co.
I’m surprised Cynthia didn’t make Peachter sign a Spousal Contract. Oh wait – she already has! It’s called wedding vows and a marriage license. Too bad those are actually legal and can’t be burned in the kitchen sink then washed down the drain. Cynthia admits she and Peter have been dealing with the seven-year itch since they got hitched! Suddenly it starts to rain – Kandi blames Cynthia’s woes because,”God’s crying.” Yeah, God’s crying because Cynthia is so stupid.
Kim Fields visits Phaedra’s for a playdate so their sons can swim together. Phaedra hired a LIFEGUARD so they don’t have to actually WATCH their kids. Real Housewives can’t get their hair wet leaping into the pool to save drowning child! I have to wonder if Bravo made her bring the lifeguard for liability?
Phaedra interviews Kim about being a child star in contrast to how pathetic and anti-social her life is now. Kim is probably afraid to leave the house because she dreads being asked about Tootie.
Talk turns to Kenya’s NeverMoore Hair Care launch – Kim found the entire affair distasteful – from the watery-products to the overflowing “boobage” She laments the Housewives cups runneth over – meaning their cup sizes, although there will be plenty more of the other kind later!
“I believe that class is in,” declares Kim. Phaedra, quickly adjusting her seat to hide the thong bikini peaking through her cover-up, agrees. How does Phaedra equate her attention to class, with her love and appreciation for the human body in it’s purest form?! “I’m glad I found myself another crusader to fight the good fight to bring class back to Atlanta,” Phaedra announces smugly. Does part of Phaedra’s plan to eradicate the déclassé include evicting Porsha? Are we going to round up all the tacky, trashy, and desperately hoochied to quarantine them in the abandoned Bar One building? Or perhaps Chateau Sheree – that has about 12,000 square feet of vacancy.
For Kim class matters more than all other aspects of appearance – including self-maintenance. “As long as I don’t look or smell homeless, I’m good!” she states.
Phaedra disagrees – she thinks getting weekly hair and nails is a necessity, otherwise mothers lose themselves to marriage and kids. Perhaps if Phaedra spent less time at the salon, Apollo wouldn’t be able to get away with committing so much fraud?! How does Phaedra find her Phaedra-centric happy place? She hired a nanny.
Kim cries because her desolate, pathetic, nanny-less life leaves her doomed to car pools and making lunches, instead of feeling like “Kim.” To rectify this Phaedra proposes a mommy date that has “nothing to do with our uterus and everything to do with you and us.”
And Kim isn’t the only one who needs to reconnect with herself – Porsha has lost her Porshaness to Duke-speration. (that’s desperate for dick Duke).
Porsha dons her fancy lingerie, then gets stood-up for Skype-sex! To console herself she calls Phaedra, for a lesson in how to win men and be classy doing so! Actually Phaedra advises Porsha to accept the obvious – her fauxlationship ran its course as soon as Duke ran from that baby-man goodbye shower! Porsha admits she’s been trying to force things with Duke now that she’s in her mid-thirties, divorced, and her younger sister is pregnant. I will say, Phaedra gave good advice without being mean or shady. At least Porsha has Phaedra – maybe they can just move in together, two lonely spinsters with inflata-boobies they like to shake. Instead of Golden Girls they’ll be Midlife Crisis Girls. (Or Post-Quarter Life Crisis Girls?).
Finally it’s time for Kenya’s Cynthia’s boat party. Kenya picks Cynthia up but is disconcerted to see Cynthia has a towed along her “friend” Tammy Browning. In the car we learn Tammy has uglier feet than Clawdia (we’re being tortured by terrible toes again?), and doesn’t understand “shade”. Didn’t Kim already claim that?! Tammy also shares the same super-blonde hair as Kim and the semi-departed NeNe Leakes of Clorox Hats! Porsha describes Tammy’s hair as a “rat tail”. HAHA!
One thing Tammy does have, that is all her own, is a 15-year friendship with Bob Whitfield and she is eager to trash Sheree! “I personally don’t think she would have been with him had he not been playing professional football,” opines Tammy. Kenya smirks, because naturally Sheree is invited.
In the other car, Kim and Kandi talk sex toys. Kim who is new to this whole make friends thing TMIs that she doesn’t like wearing underwear. “I think they’re highly overrated,” she informs a shocked Kandi. When Kandi suggests a vibrator, Kim admits she’s “not quiet” in climax. “I’m surprised Jesus doesn’t hear me,” she jokes. So vibrators may not be for Kim either! Sex toy strike-out, but at least Kandi got to talk-up her product line. (Again).
Later joining Kandi and Kim are Porsha and Shamea Morton. Kandi informs Porsha of the trouble between Cynthia and Peter, namely that distance does not make the heart grow fonder. Porsha believes Cynthia and Peter can make it work especially since Charlotte is only 2.5 hours away. “Hell, I drive an hour to get to work everyday!” she snaps. Then Porsha makes a smart statement and knocks me on my non-RHOA boosted ass. “A divorce is the end of something you hoped would be for the rest of your life. I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy. So if there’s any bit of hope to fix the relationship…”
Cynthia disagrees, she believes marriage is a choice, not an accomplishment. And that’s why Kenya waited. Obviously. Because she’s choosing wisely so she’ll never get divorced. Uh Huh.
When the ladies arrive at the boat, Kenya acts as if she’s reserved a 5000 foot yacht, instead of some little clunker skiff with a makeshift bar and low-rent SUR bartenders. “I want a COCK-tail” laughs Kenya gaily. She sends the entire party reminding everyone that it’s HER BOAT and HER PARY and therefore HER RULES.
Kenya is unimpressed to see Porsha has brought along a castaway – Shamea. She immediately informs Shamea she wasn’t invited. Porsha decides since Phaedra bailed, Shamea makes it even. Kandi is annoyed 5 seconds after arriving and she can’t even drink. Poor Kandi.
Then Kenya drags everyone to the back of the boat where she has “pedicures” arranged. By pedicures I mean Homedics Spas and lawn chairs. Kenya decides Kim gets to go first since she’s SOOOO old – like 50! Kim reminds Kenya that she can verify her age on Wikipedia – so look that shit up, Miss America, errrrr… Miss WHO-S-A!
Then Tammy, chugging her Corona, propositions Kandi about her son being signed to Kandi’s label. He’s kind of a big deal – I mean BOB WHITFIELD manages him!!!! This woman is a pimpmomager with the ego of Kanye.
Porsha tries to change the subject to marriage, so Tammy describes her husband as “Nazi white.” Kim needs to lie down. When everyone scatters to the bar, Kim tries to escape by smuggling her library book and safe snacks – i.e. not laced, spiked, or dangerous. She’s caught, however, and, after Kenya flings her Tupperware over the side of the boat (nice polluting!). “You don’t bring Tupperware to a catered event!” admonishes Kenya handing Kim box of sushi she bought at Trader Joe’s. Kim then is hauled back to the bar where Porsha orders her “alcoholic water.” Kim doesn’t drink.
Initially drinking saves this sinking party, but it’s a fine line between too much drink and just enough. Sadly, loose lips begin to sink ships!
First Kenya decides Shamea’s very presence is an exercise in performance shade and decides Shamea needs to be escorted off KENYA’S BOAT. Kenya storms over to the captain so he can kick Shamea off, or Shamea could walk the plank and swim . “You don’t come for the queen,” Kenya barks to a bemused Shamea.
While Kenya is tattling to the captain and demanding he reverse course (WHERE IS CAPTAIN LEE?!), Porsha attempts to defend Shamea by getting her bitch-boo Cynthia to talk to her. After all, Cynthia is one of Kenya’s besties! For some bizarre reason Cynthia flips out over being referred to as “bitch” – even though the ladies were playfully referring to each other as ‘bitch’ all day!
Porsha tries to explain, but since she’s Porsha, her explanation is more cobbled than Kenya’s version of a relationship. Instead a drunk Cynthia gets even angrier. But hey, at least Shamea got to stay on board! Kandi defends Porsha as not meaning it as an insult, but Cynthia is not to be reasoned with. Kenya gets involved and demands Kim help her to escort Cynthia away from the terrible THOT that is Porsha.
Kenya returns to lecture Porsha for being a THOT, who’s a THOTless friend. Porsha insists she wants to apologize, but it just makes things worse when she, again, POORLY explains her words. Porsha thinks Cynthia is confusing her with Peter. The next thing we know insults and fingers are flying. Next week it looks like ladies are flying too!
Personally, I don’t think Porsha meant to insult Cynthia – I think a drunk Cynthia took it the wrong way (we’ve all been there) and a drunk Porsha didn’t react well (we’ve all been there). Such is the way of the Housewife that a bitch is not really a bitch and one bitch is not like the other bitch and sometimes a small bitch turns into a big ol’ bitch of a problem we’ll never hear the end of them bitching about! In a Housewives thesaurus Bitch has a 10-page entry.
I bet Kim was regretting the day she ever wished for friends, and rued the day she decided to abandon her library book and get on board the S.S. Krayonce.
TELL US – WAS PORSHA TRYING TO INSULT CYNTHIA, OR DID CYNTHIA OVER-REACT? WAS SHAMEA WRONG TO BOARD THE S.S. KRAYONCE? IS KIM TOO NORMAL AND TIMID FOR THIS GROUP?
[Photo Credits: Bravo]
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Finding Holiness in the Boudoir
December 1, 2015 by admin
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Finding Holiness in the Boudoir
Image:
Nomi Ellenson
The other week I ran into a former client with her husband. With her hair covered, she gave me a secret smile as she stood next to her kippah-clad husband. I didn’t go up to her to say hello. Just several weeks prior this young Orthodox woman came to my photo studios for boudoir photographs. Our photo session, with the lingerie wardrobe we worked on choosing together, was an opportunity for her to take ownership and appreciate her body before her ascension to the chuppah. When we passed each other, I gleefully thought to myself how much her husband must have enjoyed the photos, because I knew how much fun we had creating them.
“Boudoir photographs.” The phrase, coming from the French word for a woman’s private dressing room, refers to a photography style where women (although some men have joined the trend) have intimate, sensual portraits of themselves taken nude or in lingerie, for their own or a partner’s private pleasure. In recent years, there has been an increased number of Orthodox women gifting photographs of themselves in lingerie to their husbands. Melanie Landau’s recent essay in the Sisterhood is sharply critical of the growing trend, conflating such portraiture with pornography. The puritanical nature of the critique, shaming women clearly celebrating and enjoying their beauty, struck me as a dangerous aspect of religious self righteousness: policing and dictating what is “acceptable” behavior between private and consenting adults.
As a photographer who is the daughter and sister of rabbis (as well as coming from a family which spans generations in the lingerie business) and specializes in boudoir photography, I view these types of photographs are not contradictory to Jewish values but often times a reflection of them. God gave us five senses to enjoy, including sight. Sexuality is not only an internal expression of intimacy, but the visual aspects of human beauty are an intrinsic part of delighting the senses. When combined, these two elements allow for a powerful charge of erotic energy, essential to the deepening of romantic relationships and the expression of shechinah, the divine feminine energy as expressed in Judaism.
Image:
Nomi Ellenson
Pornography usually has an exploitative element, either explicitly or implicitly. The intention, the kavanah, of boudoir photography is quite different. The voice of the subject is necessary in order to make it a successful shoot. The cooperation between myself and the client dictates the power of the imagery. Clients come to me for all different reasons. One client found out she had ALS at the age of 21. Every year she takes boudoir photos to show the strength of her body, and creates a dynamic and sacred document to look back on as her disease takes more of a toll on her body. Another client was a woman who had a preventative double mastectomy. She wanted to see her body as powerful and sexual both before and after that transition. Being able to show my clients a visual representation of their beauty and strength demonstrates my Jewish values of being kind, supportive, and understanding.
As a photographer, I witness my clients during times of happiness and sorrow. Their bodies are a testament to who they are and how they want to share it. I see my job as helping them go through the process of exploring that delicate psychological terrain. While I’m not a rabbi, I often feel like it is a spiritual journey I go on with my clients. I want them to be delighted when they look at their photos, and grateful they went through the experience. To me, creating happiness through boudoir portraits is holy.
Judaism is a rich tradition of interpretation. There are many ways to photograph women, but during my boudoir shoots, I keep the focus on body positivity. I have shot women for their 60th birthdays, fiancées creating a special present for their betrothed, and religious women who are creating something to celebrate the sanctity of their marriage’s intimacy. For all of them, the sessions are their moment to celebrate themselves. The reason they choose to shoot with me has little to do with sexual objectification. It is more of an opportunity to free themselves from what they are “supposed” to look like, and empower themselves through the clarity of being seen in a different light. I help guide them from what society expects of women, and reinterpret to where they feel most comfortable and content.
So much of sexual connection is sensual, visual and tactile, and seeing someone in person and delighting in their physical presence is one of life’s great gifts. It’s not judgment that happens in the photo shoots, it’s celebration. It is a disregard for conventional “appropriate body types” and the ability to see beauty beyond that which is so powerful.
When I take my camera out, I lead my client to a pose that is flattering and comfortable. Before we even begin shooting, my client will share photographs they like, or talk about previous boudoir experiences they’ve had. Our discussions make taking the photos an experience where we can play, try new things, and make sure he or she is comfortable. We become collaborators. It’s one human being seeing another; we are creating our own environment with our own boundaries which allows them to explore parts of themselves they might usually keep hidden, literally and figuratively.
The one thing there is no space for is shame. There are conventional images of beauty, but what I aim to capture is how women see themselves in their private fantasies. For those who would be critical of boudoir photography, I would say this: Don’t shame women who want to or do see themselves as sexually adventurous and celebrate themselves and their bodies. In my experience, Judaism does not suffer from a heritage of shame about sexuality, and I find that a beautiful and wonderful aspect of our faith. As a feminist and a millennial, l’d like to do my part to make sure that doesn’t happen to Judaism on my watch.
The gaze, a sense that God has given us, for both male and female, is powerful and transformative. It can also be exploited through public consumption. Boudoir photography is private, but the gaze we cast on ourselves—often the most critical one we face—is held up to a mirror in boudoir photography where the subject can both share their beauty and have it seen. The bravery my clients demonstrate when they walk into my studio is pure and I guide them by bringing out the love they have for themselves. For me, the work aligns with my Jewish values of treating everyone equally and with care. Encouraging women to feel good about themselves and their bodies, along with celebrating where they are at this time in their life, is an act of Tikun Olam.
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