The Real Housewives of Miami Recap: Versace in the Casa

Marysol says something truly shocking in this episode. No, it is not about Dr. Nicole, who now seems to be her sworn enemy. It is not about the enormous penis piñata that Lisa flattens like she is part of some Jackass prank. It is not even that the women could use a class on how to give a blowjob because, seriously, everyone in this cast probably knows how to give a humdinger of a hummer. At the top of the episode she says, “I haven’t worked in six years.”

Six years? She hasn’t done anything in six years? Why is she not working? I thought maybe Mama Elsa left her a ton of money, but she only died in 2019. What was she doing the other three years? Did she get her AARP card in the mail and just decide to hang it up? Did that silver-fox husband of hers come with a trust fund? What has Marysol been up to, and is the reason that she is fishing so hard for a story line because she is just bored as hell? I need answers.

The feud between Dr. Nicole and Marysol really takes center stage in this episode. We see a flashback of Nicole telling Adriana, in the most raspberry-est of berets, that she thinks Marysol is a bad person and wants no part with her. Adriana repeats this to Marysol. We also see Nicole tell Lisa at lunch, where they talk about their respective awful fathers who drink too much, that she is done with Marysol. In both instances, people are like, “You two should just sit down and hash it out,” and in both cases, they’re like, “Know what? I’m good.”

Later in the episode, everyone gets together for Alexia’s bachelorette party at the Versace Mansion, and it is as delightfully tacky as I want it to be. I just want to stand in that giant foyer wearing a garishly printed caftan and twirl while looking up at the sky as “La Isla Bonita” plays on a distant Sonos speaker. I want to watch about 20 naked dudes make out in the pool and, well, maybe not do cocaine with them, but at least have Marysol’s fake-lines coasters lying around so it looks like we’re doing them. When people are like, “bring back the ’90s,” they’re thinking of, like, She’s All That. I am not. I am thinking of Naomi Campbell telling off wannabe gay gold diggers at Twist.

Alexia has bigger things to focus on than her bachelorette party. We see her with her sons, Frankie and Peter, and she’s talking about how maybe they should all get some therapy. Peter says he doesn’t need it because he talks to Alexia’s mother, who is a psychologist, and doesn’t want to talk to some random person? Um, it’s not a random person; it’s a professional. It’s not like you have a busted car and say, “I don’t want to take it to a mechanic; I’ll just have my granddad do it.”

Peter says, “I’m healed. I’m fine.” Girl, you are not fine. You are getting arrested for domestic violence. You also seem like you are either about to be either the perpetrator or the victim of a massive NFT scam. Either way, you are going to be ruined. Peter is basically Jared Leto as the really awful Gucci cousin in that movie about Lady Gaga’s wig collection. He needs lots of help. He needs to be protected. He needs to figure out his life, and I feel like a random person couldn’t do a better job than Alexia, but a professional might certainly work. This is especially bad for Peter because his grandmother is about a week away from dying of COVID on what was supposed to be the day of Alexia’s wedding.

Back at the party, all of the ladies wear their best Versace to dinner in a dining room that looks like the walls were paved with every conch shell from a souvenir shop down the street. Larsa is wearing a silver chain-mail dress that is so revealing I’m surprised she’s not charging $15 to see her wear it on her OnlyFans. At the end of the table, the producers feed Lisa her lines, and they’re something like, “I think if anyone has any differences here that we should really squash them right here.” Marysol initially rolls her eyes but then says, “I would like to fix some issues,” and she’s talking about what is going on with Nicole.

The stance Marysol takes is that Nicole is going to all of the “girls” and complaining about her and talking about how much she hates her, so she must want to work on their relationship together after their blowup in the Hamptons. Nicole tells her that, no, the women keep asking her about what is up with the two of them, and she keeps telling them that she’s over Marysol and doesn’t really want to try. “I don’t care; you’re the one who seems to want to make it work,” Marysol says.

“Oh, I don’t care either,” Nicole replies. She tells us in confessional, “She annoys me, so I don’t want to deal with her.” Honestly, I wish we could get a little more of this on Housewives. We know many of these women aren’t friends and will never get along; they’re just forced together for the cameras (or, in Melissa Gorga and Teresa Giudice’s case, for the family). Why not let people just openly hate each other and not have to work on it? Why not just let them ignore each other on opposite ends of the table and passive-aggressively talk shit about the other to their mutuals? This would not only be more real but closer to real life. I mean, we all have friends of friends we can’t stand but have to hang out with like four times a year at birthday parties and dinners and whatnot. I am ready for Nicole and Marysol just to have open animosity. That’s sort of how the fight ends, with the two of them not caring.

After that, Julia stands up with her eye makeup looking like the greenish inside of a dirty aquarium and says that of all the women, there is one she really doesn’t get along with. She waits a moment like a magician who is about to pull a wet turd out of her hat and then says, “It’s Larsa.” Oh, Jesus, Mary, and Donatella Versace’s ice-bucket-challenge video. That’s your reveal? Oh, come on. Julia says that it’s because she made fun of Nicole for having a child out of wedlock when she has three. Also, she feels that Larsa is stuck-up and doesn’t want to get to know her because she’s a farmer? Sister, you are not a farmer. You have a couple of goats. I bought some swim goggles; does that mean I’m Michael Phelps? (Wait. Am I?)

In a confessional, Larsa says, “Julia is a follower and just doing what Adriana says.” Amen! I don’t know if Adriana told her to say this exactly, but we know that she was definitely in Julia’s ear when the two of them were sitting out in the rain talking about their feelings, which is what most lesbian pornography looks like. Larsa tries to explain that she likes Julia and thinks they vibed, and she tried to help her when she was sick in the Hamptons. Adriana counters that she was the one caring for her, and Larsa says, “No, you were trying to give her Xanax.”

She was, right? Didn’t we see that? I remember seeing that. Is Larsa red-pilling me, or is this real? It’s real, and Adriana can’t stand it. She tells Larsa that she is evil, and she “hits below the belt.” I don’t know, I think this is just what Adriana deserves. What I can’t stand about the way she argues is that you never feel like she’s making a good-faith argument; either that or she’s always trumping up the charges from misdemeanors to something out of the trial at Nuremberg. I’m ready for her barb at Kim Kardashian West to come next week, but I think I might already be exhausted.