In the first episode of Real Housewives of London, self-described “marmite” character Panthea Parker is upset with her co-star, Juliet Mayhew. Their beef? When Panthea recently became embroiled in a public feud with her son’s dentist – as you do – she claims Juliet didn’t have her back. And now, Panthea is getting her revenge.
“Everybody knows you borrow your clothes!” she shouts at Juliet, as if she’s outing her for committing a serious crime. It’s the type of chaotic argument that has fuelled the Real Housewives franchise for two decades. (Oh, and this is all happening at an event to celebrate International Women’s Day.)
Real Housewives of London was announced in October last year to much fanfare. It's the first Housewives show to be created by the streamer Hayu, rather than Bravo, the US network that made the franchise a cultural phenomenon. Since the announcement, we’ve seen the cast – a group of (mostly) socialites and businesswomen – posing in gowns in front of red telephone boxes. Then came a dramatic pre-season trailer, which included the iconic line: “Go back to Paddington!” And now that the show is finally here, can it live up to the hype?
Nicole Kidman's new Netflix romp is six delicious episodes of wealthy people behaving absolutely atrociously.
There is much to be optimistic about in the opening episode. First, we meet Amanda Cronin – a blonde bombshell whose “tagline” is “I look like a model, and I think like a CEO.” We see her driving around Belgravia in her Bentley, accompanied by her white poodle, chuckling to herself: “There’s no cost of living crisis here.” After marrying (and divorcing) a Very Rich Man, Amanda founded her own beauty company. Apparently, the Daily Mail have taken a keen interest in her dating life – a fact she states with barely-concealed glee, as we’re shown a grand total of three articles about her. Fame is a burden.
Cheeky Aussie import Juliet Mayhew – one half of the International Women’s Day showdown wastes no time telling us she loves “riding bareback.” (Horses, of course.) Elsewhere, Nessie Welschinger seems like a more reserved character. She lives in Chelsea with her husband and three children, and, after climbing the corporate ladder for decades, she left the banking world to found her own fancy cake decorating business. Nessie wouldn’t be surprised if any of her overachieving children became Prime Minister one day. (No pressure, kids!)
Anyone who was worried that there would be a lack of opulence in the show can breathe a deep sigh of relief. Jamaican-born Karen Loderick-Peace – whose tagline is “I may be from the Commonwealth, but there’s nothing common about me” – lists off a long list of properties she and her sports mogul husband own in some of the UK’s most exclusive postcodes. And Iranian-born socialite-turned-dentist-antagoniser Panthea Parker brags about once spending £140,000 in a single visit to Harrods. (She took the time to calculate that, factoring in inflation, it would be £300,000 today.)
When Panthea’s hot-shot lawyer husband brings her a morning cup of tea in bed – where she sits with a full face of makeup on, including false eyelashes – she says to him: “I don’t know how you people work, because I’m shattered all the time!” Here, I’m reminded that there is a fine line between Housewives who make great TV because they’re shamelessly seeking the one thing money can’t buy – fame! – and those who come across as desperate. Panthea might turn out to be hilariously delusional or annoyingly performative – only time will tell.
Reality TV is a casting director’s medium. And even for Bravo – the network who have been making these shows for almost 20 years – casting can sometimes be a challenge. Since 2006, being a Real Housewife has become a job in itself – a role with certain expectations. And there are so many women who are eager to use the franchise as a vehicle for fame or self-promotion.
Amid reports of a “casting crisis” on the Hayu show, my heart sank when it was announced that they had cast Karen, because she had previously appeared on ITV’s now-cancelled Real Housewives of Jersey, and as a guest on Real Housewives of Cheshire. (Both shows are defined by a certain creakiness, where a cast of wealthy-but-basic women deliver clearly pre-rehearsed confessional interviews, with a general production value that feels – how do I put this? – very “ITV.”) “Why cast this rent-a-Housewife?” I thought, as I lowered my expectations.
Poetic License sees members of industry families such as Nico Parker, Cooper Hoffman, Maisy Stella and Jake Bongiovi join the cast.
Thankfully, though, having seen the first episode, RHOL’s cast actually seems pretty promising – including Karen, who was perhaps limited by her previous surroundings. Most of the women seem to know each other already – and we’re still yet to meet Juliet Angus, who was absent from the first episode, but starred on Bravo's Ladies of London from 2014 - 2017. As the nucleus of the group, Amanda epitomises the very “West London” take on the city that RHOL is going for. The show opens with a montage of Union Jacks, Buckingham Palace, gold-leaf painted rooms and glittery chandeliers, as “God Save the King” plays. The wives say things like “London is a city of heritage and hierarchy!” where “wealth whispers and ambition soars!” and the “streets are paved with gold!” (They’ve obviously never been to my neighbourhood.)
This version of London feels distinctly geared towards American stereotypes of the city. And this only makes it more confusing that, according to Andy Cohen (the unofficial ruler of the Bravo-verse), there are currently no plans for the show to air in the US.
When RHOL was first announced, Bravo’s lack of involvement made me instantly sceptical. As a fan who has been watching Housewives for (almost) 20 years, and still keeps up with eight of the US shows, it worried me that the London version wasn’t going to be made by the network (or the production companies) that built the franchise. And not only are there no plans for Bravo to air RHOL, but the network will also be rebooting Ladies of London for its US audience, which is essentially a direct competitor.
“I don’t have anything to do with this show. Bravo doesn’t have anything to do with this show,” Cohen said of RHOL in July. But the question is: Why? It’s especially confusing given that Bravo and its sister streamer, Peacock, are both owned by NBCUniversal – the same parent company as Hayu. It feels like a wasted opportunity to give the London wives an influential (and lucrative) American fanbase, and a genuine chance at cultural cut-through.
Speaking of America, there is a question mark over whether the Housewives franchise can thrive outside of the US. Last year, Real Housewives of Dubai – the first international Housewives show to be made by Bravo – was put on pause after just two seasons, proving that it takes more than obscene wealth to make these shows work. And truthfully, while there have been some gems – like the Real Housewives of Melbourne – none of the 30+ international iterations have achieved the same longevity or cultural relevance as Bravo’s US shows, which capture the unique character and social codes of specific cities, while also telling a wider story about American society.
Ultimately, the success of RHOL will depend on the chemistry between the women. Really, the bedrock of the Housewives franchise isn’t wealth or arguing, but women sharing their lives with candour and vulnerability – a realness that makes us feel like we’re not actually so different from them after all. I hope that RHOL’s cast don’t play up to the “role” of Real Housewife and instead find the courage to be themselves. Because in reality TV, it doesn’t matter if you own half of London or live next door to King Charles – authenticity is what makes royalty.
I saw firsthand how frightening, dangerous and even fatal the dark side of the scene was.
