Last night I wanted to scream and cause myself physical harm as I watched Miami Social. The kind of harm that Lina causes George and his condominium walls when she hurls her hooker heels in Russian rage. Me, I wanted to lift my fancy LED off the wall, throw it off my 30th floor balcony and then contemplate using its shattered glass to slit my wrists. All this because I wore the same outfit as my date: navy shorts, a crisp white button down, Marc Jacobs flip flops and Christian Dior sunglasses -- even down to the same designer labels. How dreadful.
But I assure you I was the lesser fashion faux pas last night. Ariel showed off the missing piece to his mastering fashion puzzle. We have seen him create installations for Puma Golf that involved using plates of wilted salads as décor; then 'art direct,' a fashion shoot promoting lingerie or what I thought was perhaps a contortionist having an epileptic fit in a strange leotard.
And now, at 25, he is really ready to knock the world's socks off with his fashion line of evening wear and, um, bathing suits because that just makes so much sense. Ariel has really thought this out, business plan and all, because, without one, his parents won't give him money. He marvels at his Wall Street prowess, "you know my business plan is very mathematical in numbers."
In this 'business plan' there must have been a line item for a 'lead designer,' someone who, as Ariel explains, takes his vision and just makes it happen. And what does Ariel do? He gets our friend Katrina to open his fashion show because he thinks she really represents his brand: strong, confident and owns her own business. Katrina agrees because she would host the opening of an arts and crafts shop in Omaha if a camera crew was present. Alas, she stands in front of the crowd with a speech about following your dreams and tells us she isn't wearing a dress that Ariel designed for his first collection, but instead by his lead designer. I swear these shenanigans really did happen, embarrassingly so, on a show that I am proud is named after my city.
If anyone from Miami Social represents this collection, which ultimately looked like knockoffs of Forever 21 on clearance with the hemlines of Hooters, it would have been Lina. The only thing missing is that she's not an entrepreneur, though I suspect the secondary job she alludes to could be considered her own business, right? And coupled with the tailoring skills she learned cutting George's clothes, she could not just represent the collection, but be the lead designer, spokesperson and model too.
But Lina was nowhere to be found that night. Instead she was away on "business." We don't know if it was St. Barts again or New York City or some other port of call, because that wasn't the Lina Lie of the hour. This time, it was about what really did happen to her pregnancy. Last week, she told George they lost it because God didn't want it for them right now, which made us all thank God.
But George is getting some crazy text messages that tell him otherwise: that Lina took that pill she had been chatting about with her mom or that she had an abortion and George wouldn't pay for it. When confronted, Lina denies it with a defiant and humorous rhetorical question, "Do you think I'm a liar?" she asks.
But this was all, as she says, a ploy to get George's attention. What? You heard me. Lina told all of Miami these lies just for attention.
But George is addicted to Lina and it's all ok. "She's like a drug," explains George. And now George is beginning to mix 'drugs' and alcohol and I can tell you this is not going to be a good thing. Case in point, George ends up in the back seat of his 7 Series BMW being driven around by what may have been the cast of 'Little Havana Social.' Here in this awkward car ride to the club, Eduardo and Anthony are in the front, and George is in the back pouring his heart out to Lizette that he's glad to be away from Lina, who is probably out getting drunk herself, and who will most likely come home violent and crazy, and, well, George just needs the night off from all that.
I guess I'm not the only one who is sick of feeling sorry for George. "Oh, that's too bad, Papi. Why she so crazy?" Lizette asks matter-of-factly.
Speaking of driving, I made my first appearance doing something other than gossiping in my car, being on my sofa, in my bed or at the Gansevoort. I took Katrina out for what Maria and I describe as inner-whore night. You know one of those nights where you take out your single friend, and try to get them wasted and laid. It didn't work. Instead the guy I approach to meet my girlfriend takes it literally and seems more inclined to have a threesome. "Your boyfriend wanted me to meet you." "Oh, no honey, he plays for the other team," she replies. And in fact, Gay Michael was in full swing in a Sonia Rykel t-shirt with big stars.
That was the fun stuff. What also happens in the fifth episode, with the season finale next week, is that Miami Social goes somewhere quite disturbing. Things get very, very real. Sorah need not flip George's dining room table over to tell him she is really cutting ties and that he needs to get the hell out of the condo they once shared that's still in her name. Their intensity and the sincerity of their pain even took me aback.
Katrina gets put to the grind relentlessly by her mom on why she should stay with Ben and it hurts them both for very different reasons.
Trixia desperately shares stories with friends on how real the love is that she shares with Hardy.
Now the smoke has cleared and the storylines of our lives have come through and they are surprisingly ordinary: Love, Sex, Money, Relationships, Children. This show could easily be called 'Omaha Social' -- different faces, different places, same old stories. It's just that in Miami our smoke is better and our mirrors are bigger.