Summer Loving (and Hating)
Bravo enters the mainstream again
I have pretty shocking news: I am involved in Bravo’s Summer House scandal. Okay well not necessarily involved but I actually was there when something happened. Well, I wasn’t there but I did see the two villains at the center of the scandal one time. It counts!
Back during the last blizzard of New York’s brutal winter in late February, my friend Steve was in the city. He had some free time on Sunday afternoon so we were able to meet for a beer. Since he was staying on the Upper West Side and I am down here in Gowanus, I suggested the West Village as an easy meeting place. We both wanted beers (Steve knows his way around a list) so I was like, oh Blind Tiger Ale House should be chill. I suited up in my standard winter gear of a big green coat, a big cashmere sweater, loose old jeans, snow boots, and neon orange knit hat and braved the early wet snow as I trekked into the city (on a SUNDAY).
Steve and I sat at the edge of the bar, our backs to the front door which occasionally whooshed open for more snowbound day drinkers, and we each had a few beers from the list and talked about all the dumb shit we normally talk about on gchat. And then it happened. Mid afternoon, a group of 5 or 6 late 20s/early 30s hot people rolled in. That’s not shocking, this is the west village and no one wanted to be stuck at home for several days if this snowstorm ended up as bad as predicted. Then I recognized them: Amanda Batula and West Wilson from my beloved Hamptons reality soap opera, Summer House.
I stopped Steve mid-conversation and was like, “Sorry, I have to text a bunch of people real quick.” It wasn’t a boots on the ground ohmygodcanyoubelievethis moment, it was more a sighting I needed to relay to the other folks who I know watch the show. Just the night before I had been bopping around with Liza after her Gramercy Theater show, and her first appearance on Watch What Happens Live last year was alongside West himself. I almost approached West myself to be like, “Oh, we know someone in common!” but then I thought better and was like ugh that’s annoying, just keep drinking. I fired off a few “AAAHHH” texts with brief details of where I was and what they were doing, feeling deeply in the mix with the show.
I didn’t think I was revealing a huge scandal, but I also did clock that this was an odd pairing. Amanda Batula is now separated from Kyle Cooke, and West Wilson, as far as we knew at that point, was a free agent single man who had fumbled maybe the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen on television, Ciara Miller. I wasn’t like “this is fishy” but I was like “this is kind of weird for these two to be out.” Like, why wouldn’t anyone else from the cast be with them. But then again, they were with a crew of other hot maniacs, and who knows how these friend groups work off camera. Also it was the kind of weather I could totally see people being like “no I’m not schlepping to the West Village in this shit,” so maybe invitations to join for day beers were declined.
Later that day and the next I saw social media posts on Amanda and West’s feeds. It seemed like their day took them from Blind Tiger to the viral french dip stop, Salt Hanks, and back to someone’s apartment to keep the party going as the snow once again blanketed the city. I clocked the edge of my messy hair in the background of a photo posted to IG stories and felt like a minor celebrity myself (which I AM).
And not a few weeks later, the rumors started: West and Amanda are hooking up, in a huge fuck you to Ciara and to a lesser extent, Kyle. All of my group chats with Bravo friends were fired up and I got to start telling everyone about just how strange I found it that they were out that day, especially as the posts from that day became fodder for timelines and secret messages buried in captions and song choices. I went from background actor to eyewitness, telling every person I know who watches the show that I was there at the Blind Tiger on the blizzard day that Amanda called the “best day ever” while she was, we all assume, sleeping with West behind her best friend’s back.
If you just read all of that and you’re like What the fuck are you talking about? then I know you aren’t plugged into any corner of culture Bravo bleeds into. Some people may have read this and now want to text me for more details as they have been across this scandal from the jump. I think that actually most people who read this newsletter and know me in real life and exist in the world are probably like, “Okay so I keep seeing stuff about Amanda and West and Kyle and Ciara and ‘showering’ and baseball games and jean shorts...what the hell is the Summer House scandal?”
I don’t want to walk through all the minutiae of this show and scandal because other people are doing that better and more interestingly and engagingly than I probably could. I more want to talk this week about the place of Bravo in culture, and what culture even is at this point.
For a long time, reality tv, and especially Bravo, has been relegated to a silo of culture mostly populated by women. It’s been considered less than, frivolous, stupid. Reality television in general has had this connotation. It’s been the fluffy whipped cream on top of our social sundae, for fun and for privilege and with no real purpose. Meanwhile, the even more formulaic docuseries programming about trucks on ice or fishing boats get none of the criticism that Real Housewives receive (and I’d venture provide way less in every way).
I have watched Bravo for a very long time. Honestly, some of my favorite shows were from an entirely different iteration of the network. My Life on the D List stands up as one of the better comedies of the last 25 years, let alone reality shows. I watched Real Housewives of Orange County launch a network of a thousand Sky going out tops. I watched every episode of Real Housewives of New York and still rewatch the classics (Scary Island, anything that takes place at Bluestone Manor) as a comfort watch, which I understand feels like an oxymoron when half of the hour is just women screaming at each other about seemingly nothing.
I talk for 20 pages in my forthcoming book (PRE ORDER PLEASE) about Bravo and its position in our culture and what it means to women and to me specifically as a 42 year old millennial raised on a specific corner of media. But right now, in the swirl of Bravo news, I want to talk a little about where the network and its stars exist now, in the spring of 2026 cultural landscape. It’s an unavoidable part of the conversation. Maybe it feels like it has outsized weight to me because most of our consumption is controlled by an algorithm that knows I watch and enjoy Bravo and the discourse around it, but I think it’s more than that.
A few years ago, “Scandoval” broke open the world of Bravo, catapulting Ariana and Tom and their castmates into a nationwide conversation that included a Glamour magazine cover, Dancing with the Stars, a Broadway run, and discussion and explanation of what went down in the New York Fucking Times. Right now, the scandal around Summer House is taking that mantle and seeping its way out of group chats and Tiktok explainers and onto red carpets and late night shows and courtside Knicks seats.
I think there are two main reasons this is happening. The first is the more human aspect, which is the scandals and news that erupt from Bravo shows like Vanderpump Rules and Summer House are deeply, well, human experiences. This is not The Bachelor where the point is heartache. Scandoval followed the demise of a ten year relationship for a fling with Ariana’s friend and coworker. It’s hard not to watch that and feel--especially as a millennial who is dating and navigating relationships--that it’s a deeply relevant story to your life. What happened could have happened to anyone. Now, not everyone is dating a wannabe musician, forehead shaving narcissist who happily cheats on you with a former beauty queen who was dating his DJ friend. But give all of these people regular jobs and just any community outside of WeHo and it could happen.
What’s happening with Ciara and West and Amanda and Kyle on Summer House is similarly affecting just as a person, but as an added layer of painful and important racial element that is (rightfully) driving the discourse. Again, I’m not going to walk anyone through it, but plenty of content creators have done and excellent job outlining and discussing not just the betrayal at the center of it, but where it comes from and what it means within white supremacy.

After Scandoval, my VPR group texts and Bravo friends lit up my phone. There were links shared, long discussions, and themed watch parties complete with games and signature cocktails from the show. When this latest relationship scandal broke, I would say my communication with people I’m both close to and also haven’t spoken to in years doubled. Everyone has been coming out of the woodwork to reveal they watch the show, they’re horrified by the behavior of West and Amanda, and that they just can’t stop talking about it. I have like five different group texts dedicated to dissecting every single detail and it still isn’t enough. The other night I was laying in bed in the dark a little stoned and sending a voice memo to a woman I’m barely friends with telling her all about when I saw the perpetrators at Blind Tiger barely two months ago.
But the second reason Bravo has broken out of its little women’s cable cage and into mainstream culture is that...culture is flatter now. Or maybe not flatter but less segmented. Bravo isn’t “stupid” anymore because everything is stupid. Film and TV stars are in commercials and influencing. Influencers are going on reality shows. Reality stars are making jumps to traditional film. Everyone is selling out because there is no such thing as selling out, everything is just about selling. And when the end goal is simply fame for money, no matter how, then a reality star and a movie star can live in the same world with the same level of discussion in our culture.
In a world where the goal is simply attention, people easily forget how you even got it. You could be a Julliard trained musician or a beautiful woman who was cheated on and you’re both sitting across from a guy asking you questions about yourself while you try and breathe through eating a chicken wing. I don’t even know if I think that’s good or bad anymore. It feels like nothing is good or bad, everything just is. I don’t love that as a person who at least thinks that they make art for a living, but it’s where we are.
Not only have I had friends I didn’t know watch Bravo reach out wanting to go over every juicy detail of the latest scandal, but more importantly I have had equally as many friends text me being like “Who are West and Amanda and Ciara and should I watch Summer House and can you please explain to me what the hell everyone is talking about???” First of all, I am a day one SH viewer and if you don’t know about “cake in yo face” and “summer should be fun!” and the tea party, you might not be ready to wade into the true discourse of this program.
But my friends are asking because the reactions to the news from the show’s cast has made its way to them, non-viewers. Social media has conflated reality tv news with celebrity news with political news until it’s all one inescapable soup we all have to sip until we die. But when people freak out over a scandal or story, and you see posts with tons of engagement and lots of exclamation points in them about people you have never heard of, it is human to want to know what the hell is going on. It’s gossip. That’s what reality television is. That’s why the celebrity gossip machine sometimes feels more powerful than the entertainment promotional machine, and why one often uses the other. Relationships and affairs and gossip and “but what’s REALLY going on behind closed doors????” put people in the spotlight, and now more than ever, the spotlight is important. The spotlight sells tickets. The spotlight buys brand deals. The spotlight attracts more spotlight.
I’m happy that the “silly” network of reality shows I love feels like part of the greater culture conversation now, rather than a table in the cafeteria for women and gay men to bitch and moan. I’m glad new people are seeing that there is value in this programming, that there is interest in the people who volunteer to do this. And I’m really excited, well, maybe not excited, but encouraged, by the actual serious social conversations that what happens on these shows can drive. And I REALLY cannot wait to see what Ciara Miller does next. I hope it’s everything.
If you need a little more evidence that Bravo is, as Carl Radke would say, in the mix, here are some recent tidbits.
-There was an audio leak of the taped but not yet aired Summer House reunion that everyone is desperately waiting for. As Bravo tried to find who leaked this audio, a fan of the show was the key to finding the culprit. That fan was JENNIFER LAWRENCE (allegedly).
-People are aligning themselves in the fight between the two Summer House sides based on who RIHANNA follows on Instagram. That Rihanna.
-Michelle Sanieni of The Valley is dating DR. DRE.
And if you need a weirder example, the world’s first exposure to ERIKA KIRK was Summer House. She was a good Christian girl who Carl allegedly knew and went on a few dates with a toxic and likely closeted influencer named Jordan seven years ago.
MORE STUFF! MORE STUFF!
I’m back on couscous in my meal prep after a long time of not choosing it. But with spring, it just kind of works with roast chicken and bright green spicy sauces and veggies. The only thing I need to do is not accidentally spill a box of it dried in my kitchen, which I did ten years ago and it sounded like a rain stick from The Nature Store.
This week Ruined heads north to cover Cold Skin.
This Friday 5/1 I’m on Bitches Brew at Halyards, Sunday I’m doing stand-up at City Wintery before Katie Couric interviews Orna from Couples Therapy, and Monday 5/4 my nemesis Josh and I are hosting Frankenstein’s Baby at Union Hall.
Next week if you’re in Atlanta, Dallas, or Austin, I’ll be opening up for Ilana Glazer on her tour.
I am once again workshopping this new narrative hour, For This?, a show about the time I almost died, at Union Hall Sunday 5/17 at 5pm.
And every week until July 7, a reminder to pre-order my debut book of essays, I’m A Lot wherever you get your books!




Wow this whole installment was huge for me. U were right there in the eye of the storm!
not to brag (but also, def to brag), Ciara "liked" one of my IG posts in March. also, Ariana follows me on IG.