In lieu of weekly updates on The Real Housewives of Cheshire, I offer you this: my solemn pledge to check in on this collection of over-tanned WAGs, every now and then, whenever I can be assed. You deserve to know what’s happening in the Golden Triangle, an area of England named by some dark soul in a fit of hilarious irony.
What I can’t do is promise you that I’ll give you detailed updates on everyone, because there are now more Cheshire Housewives than could comfortably fit in a mini-van. So let me just lay the highlights on you.
First of all, we have a couple of new Housewives to attend to. Hooray! They’re here, they’re glamorous, and they’ve pushed the intro to about 45 minutes long. First up is Nermina, who immediately ticks off a bunch of promising criteria. She’s a pretty young model, so she’s just begging to have her face cut by one of these former glamour models in an explosion of jealousy. She’s Dutch, which has historically paid dividends re: being an arrogant sociopath (cf. Yolanda and Magali). She’s working on her music, like my God yes please. And I want to suck her husband’s cock, so hey.
All told, Nermina came across a bit blank on camera, but the raw ingredients are there if not the charisma. The same could be said about our other newbie, Rachel, although she earned a bit of my heart by bombing so hard it looped back to an Alex McCord-esque anti-charisma. It’s been a while since I’ve seen a Housewife as unnatural on TV as Rachel. It’s as though she has not only never been filmed, but is unfamiliar with the technology of video recording as a whole.
Rachel (pictured above with her twin; not yet familiar enough to distinguish which is her… left, I think?) is the most agonizingly British woman alive. She lives in a farmhouse with her 95 children with names like Cheskie and a husband who looks like one of Lady Edith’s suitors who would die of the Spanish flu in an early season of Downton Abbey. I’m looking forward to seeing Rachel gurn and overact her way through the next ten episodes, though I’m not immediately sure who someone as obnoxiously agreeable as her would fall out with (not that you need a conflict to stay alive in Cheshire; we’re now in season four [!] of Seema Malhotra).
And what about our other lovelies?
- Ester is back! Hooray! She was briefly exiled from Cheshire after she had to reluctantly pretend to breakup with her lover, Rob, to get back in her husband’s good books. Thankfully, he has agreed to purchase her her own place where he will visit her twice monthly and otherwise leave her and her shoes and her various affairs in peace. The Secret works.
- It was also a joy to catch up with the vile Dawn Ward, a true piece of nouveau riche garbage for whom I have all the time in the world. I’ve come to have a real soft spot for Dawn, an utter heel operating at a level of moral corruption even Friends of the Housewives can only aspire to. In this first instalment of the series, Dawn recovers from a hysterectomy I refuse to believe she needed and frankly doubt she got (cynical, yes, but Brooks Ayers taught me that every disease on these shows is fake). She also hassled Lauren for not visiting her in hospital (Lauren’s reason, which I respect, is “meh I didn’t want to”) and debated a boob job for her daughter.
- Dawn’s other big piece of story action comes via Tanya, who offered her godparentship of her new child, fell out with her, and is now reneging. It’s big sloppy drama that looks set to consume the season so I’m all in. The preview made it look like Tanya will be the focal point for a lot of drama this year, which isn’t a role she’s really taken on before. Interested to see whether she can carry the story weight. I suspect she can.
So there’s your catch-up with everyone that matters in Cheshire! Thanks for joining me for these reflections on the premiere, which, by the way, mysteriously ended with this symbol:
so stay tuned for some sort of ARG/subliminal messaging/Illuminati airwave hijack I guess. Kisses!