High Society: Finally. A Show Worse Than Beautiful Life.

So far, High Society has clutched the title of least watched premiere in CW history from Mischa Barton’s death grip. It has also been described by the one other person I know watching it as “the absolute worst TV show ever filmed”.

When we catch up with Tinsley again, she makes sure to remind us that she’s taking us into a world where not everything is as perfect as it seems. Seems to be part of the opening credits.

I’m sorry to keep raining on this parade of imperfection, but I have three girlfriends getting divorced right now, and not one of them is getting this out of the deal.

Tinsley’s unpacking in the new place. She tells us how much you learn about yourself while you’re packing up and starting over. “Little things, like a bowl,” pause, “or a picture frame” she tells us woodenly. Someone wrote a script, and I think we can add acting to the list of things Tinsley can’t do. But it’s the people around you that make starting over such a juggling act, she ultimately enunciates.

So she’s juggling people and unpacking and doing it in Prada heels. She gives us a stupid speech about how she never wears flats, and even walks on tippy-toes when she’s barefoot. One minute she’s just a regular gal getting divorced and learning about herself through household items, the next, she’s Victoria Beckham and simply can not walk in flats. She has no idea.

Then we watch a stupid skit where her sis Dabs, who’s helping Tinz pretend to unpack, takes a pretend break to pretend paint her nails and Tinz pretends to get mad at her. Then they go out for manicures and brunch while the staff gets the rest of the unpacking sorted out.

Ugh, then Chuck Ass and despicable Jules have a meeting of the gutter scum to talk about whatever’s irking them. Ass wants to say that things got out of hand the other night, and he’s not apologizing, nor does he feel bad for anything he did to her. Okay, then. Nice of you to schedule a meeting to get that off your chest.

For her part, wretched Jules thinks the whole problem is that he thinks she actually cares and she doesn’t. He thinks she’s talking shit about him, but she’s soooo not. Besides telling everyone at his AIDS afterparty that he himself probably has AIDS and will end up dead or in jail, that is. She calls him delusional and then they have a meaningful debate over “ghetto Crackberry” versus iPhone. Jules finally storms away with Ass yelling after her, “great bag, great hair”. And while people in such desperate need of Proactiv shouldn’t be throwing stones, still – good one.

Then Ass tells us that it was all typical Jules – she doesn’t listen. She just barks at you and leaves and that doesn’t resolve anything. “No wonder her life is a mess,” he preaches from his perch in the playroom. Seriously, how does she expect to resolve Ass not being sorry for anything by walking out on his non-apology? Sheesh.

I could give a crap about these two making nice, but she needs to apologize to everyone with eyes for this look.

And then more Jules. Now she’s bitching that Dabs chose the monograms on their custom made Frette linens for their apartment / hotel that Tinz is making Dabs babysit Jules in. And tastemaker Jules doesn’t like them. Naturally, the hotel housekeeper takes the brunt of the distasteful monogram.

“Make sure they’re in the center,” disgusting Jules snaps at the housekeeper. Then she instructs her to do her vacuuming far, far away from her royal shittiness. Then she tells her she needs to clean everything and “not just like the crappy job you usually do”. Of course she says the last part to the wall, because being a passive aggressive jerk is always a good way to get people to do what you want them to.

Lady, whatever you do to her Frettes after she leaves the room is between you and the sheets.

Back to Tinsley. Dabs and Alex, the unintentional but overly dramatic victim of Ass’s wayward cocktail glass, are throwing Tinz a welcome back to the single life party. They’ve each brought a picture of an eligible single man for her. Judging by the photos, it looks like Dabs raided the hunk-of-the-month reject bin at a ladies magazine.

But none of them really matter, because sneaky Dale, Tinsley’s Mom, has brought a picture of Tinsley and her soon to be ex, Topper from their wedding. It’s an awkward moment. “It didn’t go over well, but I knew it wouldn’t,” Dale gloats. Dabs tells her it wasn’t cool. “Sorry! Sorry!” Dale giggles, clearly anything but.

Next up is the City of Hope event. Ass gives us a speech about how it’s an important cause because his mother is in remission. Then he tells us how ironic it is that wretched Jules is there because she is a cancer faker. Then he apologizes to Alex, who caught the glass meant for Jules. Alex tells him that they don’t throw drinks at each other because they’re not in 1980′s Dynasty.

As you can tell by my enormous geometric necklace, we are not in 1980′s Dynasty.

Ass gives a sad sack speech about how he’s just misunderstood. People see him going out all the time and they think that’s all he’s about. Awww, that’s not true. There’s pretty much an infinite multitude of worse things about you then the fact that you like to go out and party! Alex tells us that he might have apologized, but a gentleman would have offered to pay for the dry cleaning. Please, “gentleman” doesn’t even belong in the sentence.

Turns out, Alex was not playing with those bachelor pictures from brunch – she’s set Tinsley up on a date with the cheesiest looking one of all! He promotes events in NYC and the Hamptons. Oh, Dale’s gonna love this. He takes her to Philippe, which is Tinsley’s favorite restaurant with her “husband from before”. Promoter guy’s got it all pimped out for her, private dining in the wine cellar and all.

They sit down and he asks her, “Are we doing Blackberries?” When she shrugs and puts her down on the table, he hisses, “Nice.”. Okay, listen. I am about to use a word that I never use because I think it’s stupid and gross and totally overused, but there is no other word to describe this guy. And I dislike him even more for making me say it.

Douchebag.

Tinsley throws a little ‘Bachelor’ into her garage sale of a reality show and tells us she’s connecting with this guy and that they can talk about anything. That was quick. She’s also already ordering lamb chops and chicken satay as they sit down. I love how she just takes over. Take that, lowly club promoter. But come on girl, if you had to slum it couldn’t you do better than this? Really, how far is she going to take it?

She’s going to take it ice skating, apparently. Even though rain is coming down in sheets and she’s in a dress and no coat and ruining her fabulous shoes by standing in a puddle, we will have our manufactured romantic moment, dammit.

Seriously, I really love her shoes.

Promoter guy tells her that since the ice skating got rained out, she has to kiss him. She laughs and turns away when he says it. I wouldn’t want to kiss this guy either. But, I guess one of the PAs steps in and explains that it will give them five extra minutes of desperately needed story to throw into the mix, so she goes for it. She tells us how awkward it feels. It looks awkward too, but at least she takes the opportunity to wave around one of her ugly purses in an admirable attempt to not have to put her arms around him.

Taking one for the Tinsley Mortimer Collection.

She gets home and squeals to Alex about the kiss. Alex is surprised. So am I. I can’t believe she has such questionable taste in men. So, she’s glad she went on the date, but all it made her realize is that she misses her German prince boyfriend who she’s not allowed to be photographed with.

Then we take a trip downtown with vile Jules. She tells us that her and her uptown friends like to go slum it downtown and toy with the “blue collar” folks, who actually look like just a couple of NYU kids probably from Long Island. She makes a big deal about how she and her fancy friends like to “fuck with” the little people. They accomplish this by losing at beer pong and letting one of the frat boys make out with Jules’ gorgeous friend. Way to mess with them! Then Jules really shows them who the classy uptown people are by flashing her bare ass at them.

Well, that was definitely screwing with them. Even the blurred out crack is making me gag, I can’t imagine the damage imparted by the live show.

And she caps off the whole thing by telling us that when she goes downtown, she can get away with stuff that she can’t uptown, because of people taking pictures.

No one will ever know.

Then we jet off to Paris fashion week! Tinsley tells us that she’s known in New York and now she wants to be known in Paris. She tells us it’s all part of building her “international brand”, but I’m confused. Is the brand Paris fashion week or is it US Weekly photo shoots with the Jersey Shore girls? Because it most definitely can not be both. As evidenced by the fashion reporter who refuses to be on camera. Even Katy Perry isn’t too interested.

Tinsley does get to meet Karl Lagerfeld after his show. The only thing missing from this scene is Tinsley hawking her enchantingly beautiful handbag line.

After the fashion, Tinsley is lonely. Her German prince lives in London, so she ships him in for a not-impromptu visit.

Is she wearing flats? Busted.

Meanwhile, in New York, Dale is flipping out over the Germans. “I know they’re lovely people, but their history is not good,” she informs us. Then she heads to the New York Society Library to do a little research. She putters around opening card catalog drawers here and there, until finally she finds a book that appears to give her the dirt she’s looking for.

Googling is so common.

Back in Paris…all hell’s about to break loose. There’s Tinsley and her prince strolling casually when all of the sudden Tinz drops the bomb. “I’m happy you’re here, I was sad in Paris without you,” she tells him. “What did you say?” he snarls at her. Uh, yeah, what? She missed you? So what’s the problem?

Well, actually I’m not too sure what Prince Pissant’s problem is. First he’s unhappy that she missed him, because apparently he hadn’t been told in advance that she did. Then he doesn’t like the camera angles. He doesn’t like the camera walking toward them. He’d rather have a side angle. It’s too close. He wants to look at everything that was filmed today. And she was waaaaaaay out of line telling him she missed him. It wasn’t discussed and he doesn’t like it.

Prince Pissant – Director Extraordinaire

Back in New York, Dale babbles away about how controlling Prince Pissant is. Watching him yell at Tinsley and the camera crew, there’s really no arguing with her, even though part of her argument is that he’s keeping Tinsley away from everyone, including Topper. Sorry Dale, no one likes Pissant, but I think it’s just a tad unreasonable to expect him to reunite a divorced couple that according to you, he helped to break up.

Dale drones on and on about Pissant’s family history colliding with Tinsley’s and how she’s here to save her. Oh, and she’s checking the book out, she informs us determinedly.

In Paris, Prince Pissant finally gives Tinsley a countdown – that’s right, a countdown – to get into the hotel. I’m hoping this part was discussed, cause if she is legit putting up with this nonsense, we have a serious problem.

See? I did not make this up.

Next week, this clown puts herself on display. Undoubtedly, to tell us how everyone hates her because of how beautiful she is.

I’ll be the judge of that.