The London ladies waste no time diving into a dormant two-year beef that Juliet didn’t even know she was in.
Photo: UTAS UK Productions/Hayu/Bravo
This season of The Real Housewives of London presents a sort of conundrum for me. Since the first season already aired in its entirety in the U.K., my adopted homeland, starting last August, I’ve seen the whole series. Now I get to go back and enjoy it with fresh eyes and help explain the vagaries of English culture to an American audience. Because I’ve had a peek into the future, that means I’ve already formed judgments about these women, which is strictly forbidden by the Eileen Davidson Accords, which afford every new Real Housewife a five-episode grace period before we officially judge her. I will stand by that declaration, but just know that my opinions are already formed, and I’ll try not to let them shine through too much while writing these first few recaps.
However, how can we have five recaps of a Housewives program and not judge any of the women? Should we just sit here and twiddle our thumbs and talk about Juliet’s horrible outfits? Should we just talk about how Karen is clearly here to turn her gorgeous daughter, Jayvana, into the next Hadid? (She even has an equally beautiful sister!) Should we just dribble and drool over Nessie’s cakes for the next five episodes? No, we shall not. So while we should all be a bit more opinionated than usual, let us try to reserve our judgment.
Let’s meet the women, then, shall we, since that accounted for half of the episode anyway. First up is Amanda, who is tooling through Belgravia with her poodle, Monty True Madness, in the front seat next to her. This dog doesn’t just play fetch; it is fetch because Amanda really wants him to happen. After divorcing an energy mogul, she now has a skin-care line and a private clinic that she runs out of her mews house. (A mews house, which is a former stable with living quarters above it, is one of the most sought-after property types in London, particularly because, unlike Sutton Stracke’s house, they’re usually removed from the main road.) Amanda also dated Andrew Ridgeley, the straight and living half of Wham!, and is just waiting for a man to fall into her lap. She’s good friends with Meredith Marks, which isn’t mentioned on the show, but not good enough friends that she would import Meredith’s caviar for her big party.
Next is Panthea Parker, a woman whose last name follows her first name like aroma follows a cup of coffee. She lives in North London (think Park Slope) and is married to a lawyer who is also the master of the solicitors, which is the head of the solicitors guild. I could explain everything about guilds and the City of London and guildhalls, but you would just be bored and it would take so long that your scone would be stale by the time I finished. Just know that it is a very prestigious position. She’s Persian, they have three kids, she has an older son from her first marriage, and she doesn’t work. She also says she’s shopped so much in her life that shopping is now a chore, which is not the flex she thinks it is.
Juliet Mayhew (not to be confused with Juliet Angus, the former Ladies of London star who arrives a few episodes into the season to replace Panthea’s blonde friend Katie, who hated filming the show and quit) is Australian, went to boarding school, and then married a hedge-fund manager so posh that his first name is Tiggy, which is something you can only pull off if you’re richer than a million cheesecakes. (It’s short for Anthony, but still.) Her children are named Orlando and Ophelia after the place where her son was conceived and her favorite Taylor Swift song, respectively. Just kidding. This family is all Shakespearean, which seems like it’s tempting fate for a tragedy to befall their house.
Nessie is a native Londoner born to a Singaporean mother and an Egyptian father. Her husband, Rémy, is a “mining entrepreneur,” which either means he is super rich from diamonds, runs a Ponzi scheme, or is a spy with a fake job. Maybe all of the above? She used to work in finance but quit to start the Chelsea Cake Company. (They had one of her cakes at the RHOL premiere party, and it was quite delicious.) Nessie says she’s a bit of a tiger mom and not to be surprised if her oldest daughter or youngest son end up being prime minister. Sorry, that’s tired. What’s wired is putting your backing behind Zaza, the middle child. They’re always the best, most creative, and a pleasure to have in class. Just ask my older or younger brother — they will tell you that middles rule.
Finally, there’s Karen, who was previously on The Real Housewives of Jersey, which sounds like it has something to do with table flipping but does not. Jersey is an isle in the English Channel that is autonomous but still part of the U.K. even though it’s closer to France. It’s even more confusing than trying to explain guilds, but all you need to know is that it is a tax shelter. Her husband, Jeremy Peace, moved there right before he sold his football (read: soccer) team for about £200 million. He made that move because there are no capital gains taxes in Jersey, meaning he paid no taxes on that sale. And voilà — that’s how you end up living in Jersey. But Karen has two houses there as well as two in London, one to live in and one to renovate, a process that has already cost her £4.5 million (about $6 million) and will surely go into season five.
After meeting the gals, Amanda and Juliet ride horses in Hyde Park and Panthea does her chores, and by chores, I mean she goes shopping with Katie (RIP). This is when Panthea explains that she has beef with Juliet. Apparently, they were close friends and she introduced Juliet to a dentist she knew and they really hit it off. When Panthea’s son had an emergency with his braces the day before he was leaving for New York, Panthea called up this friend to get some emergency dentalwork. She says the dentist didn’t fix his braces, instead filling six or seven cavities and sending him home with a bill. When Panthea raged against the dentist, Juliet took the dentist’s side, and now she doesn’t fuck with Juliet.
Even when Panthea was telling this story straight from the “Am I the Asshole?” Reddit thread, I knew there was no question Panthea was the asshole. First of all, this woman isn’t an orthodontist; she’s a dentist. Secondly, Panthea seems like the kind of person who would inconvenience a friend for a favor and then totally blast them when the rushed work didn’t turn out the way she wanted. Here she is treating her son’s mouth like the Reflecting Pool, and then she’s shocked when he has algae for gums. Come on.
Juliet is talking to Amanda about Panthea and says they used to see each other often, but she’s been so busy that they kind of fell off. She tells Amanda that they always greet each other warmly at parties. Like a vegan at a carvery, she’s totally unaware there’s beef. Meanwhile, Panthea is ginning herself up for a confrontation, talking about how she can’t stand fake people and if you poke the bear, she’s going to attack. Sister, you’ve run into this woman multiple times since this incident and you haven’t brought it up. This sounds like someone really reaching for a story line, someone who has studied the game and thinks she knows how to play.
Everyone attends a party at Amanda’s for International Women’s Day, which I didn’t know was a day we threw parties for, but isn’t that just what a man who critiques women on reality shows for a living would say? Juliet sees Panthea and greets her with air kisses, saying Panthea looks great and she’s excited to see her. Panthea replies, “You look beautiful, but no need to be fake. We both know where we stand.” Well, they don’t, because Juliet is caught off guard. She doesn’t remember this feud that is so old that Panthea had to hire a Druid priestess to bring it back from the dead. Panthea sort of brushes Juliet off and goes into the party.
After Amanda gives a short toast to just the cast, Panthea gives a longer toast. “To women — we always fix their crowns without them knowing their crowns are falling. To people that are real — and I did love this one,” Panthea says, motioning at Juliet. Juliet replies that she still loves Panthea, who retorts, “Shut the fuck up. Be honest. You’re such a good actress.” Oh, Jesus. Really? All of this for a dentist? You might as well slap a Union Jack and a “Made in GB” sticker on this argument because it was totally manufactured. To make it even worse, Panthea then launches into something about how Juliet borrows her clothes, like she caught Juliet in a lie she never said. How is this a read? How is this a bad thing? What’s so wrong with borrowing clothes? Isn’t that better for the environment?
This is the problem with people who play the game like Panthea is playing it here: They say they want the truth, but their version of the truth is totally subjective. Juliet seems like she wants to squash this fight and asks Panthea what she can do to make it up to her. Panthea says, “I want you to be honest. I want you to say I wasn’t a good friend to you, that I talked about you behind your back to the dentist — she was your friend, and I did this, and I’m sorry you feel this way, and I’m sorry we lost our friendship.” But why would Juliet say any of this when she didn’t even know they were in a fight? Why does she need this apology now after sitting on it for two years? Even if Juliet said all those things, they wouldn’t be honest because she didn’t even have a chance to feel those things until this very minute when Panthea brought it up. It’s so forced it makes me want to crawl under the couch and fill my own cavities in the darkness.
In confessional, Juliet says she did take the dentist’s side because everything Panthea was saying was wrong and she was dogging this woman on social media. See, I just knew it. Just like there are two Juliets in this group, there are also two Karens, and one of them is actually named Panthea. The best reaction, however, is from Amanda. “Talking about teeth at someone’s party — it’s not the topic,” she says. Then she decides to go mingle and breaks up the fight, and Panthea, with her fight made, skitters back into the night. As she lurches on the cobblestones in front of what used to be a stable, she thinks about everything that has happened on these ancient streets. When the Romans were there, this was still farmland. Later, there were dirt roads and wells and a veneer of soot covering even the nicest dwellings. Finally, the Georgians would pave it but still with horse shit, bird shit, and human shit beaten into every cranny. Now here it is, London revived, a site of a gorgeous house with a secret room for facials (no, not what you’re thinking). So much has transpired here, right on this spot, and somehow a fight about an absent dentist is the absolute worst.
