“If you hold up a mirror, what do you see? Yourself.” — Angela Stone
We love to big-up unjustly maligned Housewives otherwise lost to history. Today, I rise in support of Angela Stone, the spectrum queen of Auckland. The public hated watching her. Her cast hated filming with her. But here at BWHQ, we were rapt. Hell, I love Ms. Stone enough to write up an entire post about her fat reduction infomercial. So buckle up, kids, because I’m gonna take you on a quick tour to Auckland (with routine stopovers in Christchurch) to convince you why you, too, should love THE face of New Zealand tourism.
Are You Plus-Sized?
As the season opened, Angela served as the omega for Michelle Blanchard, Actual Model to dunk on as being a plus-sized model at best. Of course, as we all know, she modeled for the New Zealand Tourism Board, with a multitude of easily traceable photos that I choose not to link here at this time. Nevertheless, this instantly gave us reams of scenes where darling Angela tried and miserably failed to parry these bullying punches, despite being 100% in the right. God bless.
In Angela’s first of only two truly sympathetic storylines, she had to deal with her wishy-washy man (“Kirk,” according to Google, and I couldn’t have summoned that on my own if you’d given me four hours to), who unwisely would rather hang out with the blokes than spend all his waking hours gazing at the radiating warmth of Angela’s face. Finally, with the help of the other women(! I know right), she dumped his ungrateful ass! Or possibly he had actually dumped hers weeks earlier in realsies but eh I’m content with this version of reality.
The Case of the Missing Twin
In a much more harrowing development, Angela sat down with a clearly unprepared Louise and announced that her twin brother had been missing for years and she was torn up inside about it. Pretty sure even her haters had to acknowledge that this was deeply affecting (if obviously timed to bolster her Brand). !!SO REAL!!
And speaking of. The centerpiece of Angela’s career, Being Real (or, per the host of her own book party, How to Be Real) is somewhere between a Tony Robbins book and one of those glossy commemorative issues of People they release when a royal or president’s daughter gets married. By all accounts it’s a mindless mishmash of truisms and insanely awkward glamour photos of Angela:
But never mind the book; the book party celebrating it has to be one of the most fabulously inept disasters in the Housewives canon, a sparsely attended affair held in a suite of featureless rooms, staffed by Chippendales-knockoff waiters and a hostess who continually forgets the name of the damn book. So dire is the scene that fellow Housewives Louise and Anne text friend Gilda to seek help–
(yes that says “save me”)–and eventually straight up ghost the event.
BUT EVEN THAT’S NOT ALL because guess what, Gilda is having a book party too! (For the more reputable but equally hilarious Astarons, a series of graphic novels starring anthropomorphic planets. Watch RHOAKL right this instant.) Angela, of course, sweeps into the party through the curtains directly behind Gilda during her speech. Never fear, though; she brought an enormous attention-grabbing bouquet =).
Léa, My French PA
We can conclude no discussion of Angela Stone without also discussing Léa, Her French PA. Fuck your Marie and Pierre Curie, your Thomas Jefferson and John Adams, this is the iconic duo of Western civilization. For ten glorious episodes, Angela
terrorizes mentors her young indentured servant assistant, chatting mindlessly on the phone as the hapless French girl irons knockoff couture or gets trapped in aging elevators. *If* season 2 became a reality (*glares at Kiwi Bravo*), you can be sure Léa would have attained Nene/Bethenny/Vanderpump-level stardom. But it’s okay, she’s still out there just being Léa, and that’s enough.
Please sound off in the comments with your 5-10 favorite Angela Stone moments.