We Need to Talk About Christine Quinn: An Essay
*Sophia Petrillo voice* Picture it: Soho, 1992. A group of young, diverse strangers move into an all–expenses paid loft in exchange to have their entire lives filmed, including drunken nights out, politically-charged discussions with each other, and extremely regrettable “fashion” choices. All they really have to do is stop being nice, and start getting real. And thus, reality tv as we know it was born.
Reality television has evolved (or devolved, depending on who you ask) since the early days of The Real World. What once was a simple yet riveting look into the way other people lived has transformed into game show competition formats, restaurant/yacht staff dramas, and of course, RIIIIIICHHHHH bitch shit. Perhaps no other reality show claims the rich bitch shit formula quite like the latest season of Selling Sunset. Don’t get me wrong - I’m a die-hard RHOBH fan, but even Dorit shows up sans glam and couture from time to time. We’re seeing Mary bare-faced, donning sweats, and waking up after a night of slamming Prosecco over Romain’s dead, yet hard, body!!!
From tip to tit, the women on Selling Sunset vaginally discharge over–the-top glam and couture. And it’s what we love about the show. This highly stylized production aesthetic is a signature of show creator Adam DiVello, who any Millennial worth their Himalayan pink salt will remember as the mastermind behind The Hills. In fact, it was The Hills that hit the cultural reset button around the way viewers consumed reality tv content.
The Hills aired from 2006 to 2010, finishing its run with over 100 episodes, and ultimately made us all feel like big dumb dummies at the end, when Kristin drives off in a shiny black car and Brody stands in WHAT YOU THINK is just a normal street in LA, but actually reveals itself to be a goddamn backdrop being wheeled away by ilke a gaff (tbh, I don’t know what a gaff is/does but I feel like it’s the people who wheel shit in and out of scenes) in a Hollywood backlot and we’re all like “ummmm, so it IS fake?!!?”
The debate about whether The Hills was real endured through the series’ run, but unlike most reality shows, they actually gave us our answer in the end. I don’t know about you, but this blew my fucking mind. Like, yes, okay, I knew things were manufactured to make the show more entertaining (Teen Vogue interns don’t go to Paris, Whitney!), but I wanted to believe that the fights at early twenty-aughts “haught” spot Les Deux were Les True. But just like a girl who didn’t go to Paris to spend her summer with Jason Wahler, my reality television virginity was forever ripped from me, leaving me with only a skeptical eye through which to watch shows like Below Deck, and even RuPaul’s Drag Race.
But just because you know reality tv isn’t based in reality anymore doesn’t make it any less enthralling. I mean, how many episodes of Vanderpump Rules have left you wondering if Lisa really IS going to fire James, or if Love really might be Blind?!?! We know better, but we also enjoy going along for the beautiful-people–doing-ugly-things carnival ride.
At least, I did until the latest season of Selling Sunset. (You were wondering if I was ever gonna get there, weren’t you?) I remember watching the first season of Selling Sunset only a few years ago and being absolutely romanced by the insane Hollywood Hills real estate and the even more insane fashion, particularly as worn by Christine Quinn, the breakout star of the show. She was as tall as a tree with platinum blonde hair down to her ass, and an aptitude for walking on 7-inch platforms that would impress a drag queen. And more importantly, she didn’t give a fuck what anyone said about her, particularly her cast mates. She’s if Speidi had a baby, then gave her up for adoption to Kris Jenner, and attended Erika Jayne University (before it got shut down for tax evasion). In other words, a reality show wet dream.
The only thing taller than her shoes though, were her tales. Even early on, I remember finding plot holes in Christine’s stories. I read an interview I can no longer find following season one that she didn’t wear extensions and it was all her own hair. Ummm, okaaaaayyy. And then there was the vague way Christine met her now-husband…ye ole “through a friend” is usually code for “some kind of dating site.” I’m not saying they met on SeekingArrangements.com, a site I’d never heard of until Noella on RHOC told me about it on the reunion episode, but I am saying WHO IS THIS FRIEND AND WILL THEY SIGN AN AFFIDAVIT TO THE MATTER? All harmless lies, for the most part, that I’ll absolutely look the other way for, so long as she keeps serving looks.
But this all started to change for me at the beginning of season 4. Christine and I both had babies in 2021, so I was eager to see how this hyper-glamorized, bad bitch was approaching life as a new mom. Without turning this into a story about how much I fucking hated the newborn phase and can literally not think about that period of my life without experiencing an elevated heart rate or mild PTSD, let me simply say that the first 6 months as a new mom were the absolute hardest on me, physically, mentally, and emotionally. I didn’t expect Christine to necessarily represent the “every-woman” and show up in UGG slippers and a messy bun, but I definitely didn’t expect her to be carrying her two-week old baby down the stairs in Louboutins with a perfectly snatched ponytail and eyes whiter than a 1999 Abercrombie and Fitch staff retreat.
I’m going to interrupt myself here to say that I have absolutely no jealousy or resentment towards a woman who seemingly bounces back physically from childbirth. While that wasn’t my destiny, and I will get it into another time, I am exceedingly impressed with the women who look like and (seem to) feel like themselves within the first year of having a baby, who somehow seemed unaffected by the consequences of the torture that is sleep deprivation. Is it what should be expected? Absolutely not. But simply to say, what I’m about to say is not rooted in jealousy whatsoever, but rather defense of the vulnerable state of new mothers everywhere, including Christine herself.
Now, with that said…
Who here has been personally victimized by Christine Quinn’s retelling of new motherhood?
Let the record show that every hand is up.
At the beginning of Season 4, Christine gets a visit from Amanza, with whom she shares the story of a traumatic birth experience, wherein her baby’s heart rate dropped and she had to have an emergency C-section, which resulted in her baby going to the NICU and her near-death following a nurse telling her husband he would have to “pick one” to live. Fucked, right????
Here’s the thing - so much of this story doesn’t add up. What I’m NOT gonna do, however, is question the validity of her medical history or experience (though I’ve heard from multiple nurses that no medical professional would ever tell a husband to choose between his wife and unborn child’s life). What I AM gonna do, however, is ponder why she would then represent the post–partum experience as near seamless from her pre-pregnancy life.
According to her appearance on the show, she was back at work well before the standard 3-month maternity leave (which is woefully inadequate as it is). That’s not even the problematic part though, particularly for women who want to safeguard their identity outside of being a mother or just truly enjoy working. The problematic part is the way she trallops along, again wearing the Frank N. Furter platforms, full glam, going to parties in couture, and not ONCE mentioning a, I don’t know, fucking night nurse, maybe??!?! A makeup artist!?! An adderall IV drip?! Not a single mention of the way her access to help with her child and herself, for that matter, makes the impossible–for-the-rest-of-us possible for her.
But that’s not the only hole in this birth story. Let’s move on to Season 5 (the current/most recent season released last Friday). Not even 15 minutes into episode 1, and Christine is telling new agent Chelsie that she’s fully sleep-trained her 3 month old baby, while Chelsie, mom of two, including her 9–month old youngest child, listens in shock.
“Oh, I’ll tell you all my tricks,” says Christine with a Rumplestiltskin-ian smirk.
BITCH. You did not sleep train your 3-month-old. Even if you were the motherfucking Sandman herself, 3-month-olds can not be sleep trained; it’s just a biological fact that has to do with everything from how newborn sleep cycles work (they don’t achieve deep sleep) to how often they need to eat (which varies child to child). What *might* be possible is that, in addition to being a genetically gifted freak who can bounce back from a life-endangering C-section without missing a (face) beat, she *might* also have hit the baby sleep jackpot and gotten one of those babies that does just randomly sleep through the night very early on. It happens, and I know, it’s extremely infuriating. Don’t worry - it didn’t happen to me. #relatable.
And therein lies the issue with this version of reality tv…
Yes, we know some of it is produced and manipulated, but at the end of the day, as viewers, we assume that if someone is using their real name, their real job, and their real cars/homes that we’re seeing some version of the way these real people live their real lives. Why, then, can’t we get just like, a skotch more insight into how Christine can “have it all?” I thought the show was about aspiration and RIIIIIIIICH BITCH SHIT. As a person with a child, I can now say there is truly nothing more RIIIIIIIIICH BITCH SHIT than 24/7 childcare. Let me tell you what a difference my post-partum journey would have been if I could have just slept more than 3-hour increments at a time!! Or had the hands–on assistance of a nanny so I could properly shower and do my hair just so I didn’t feel like a sewer rat when picking up groceries, which isn’t even selfish, but does require like 40 uninterrupted minutes, which can be extremely hard to come by when you’re going on day 57 of the 3–hour sleeping increments mentioned above!!! And more to the point, why wouldn’t Christine want to be real with an entire community of women she just joined (moms) because wouldn’t she of all people understand just how big and deep of a mind-fuck new mom-hood can be, particularly when you’ve always been so fucking obsessed with your own self, and now you’re still obsessed with your own self, but it just got a helluva lot more difficult cus now someone else is obsessed with your own self and relies on you for actual life????? I’ll tell you why…because of the pressure put upon her by the show’s producers/writers.
I’m hyper-focused on the Christine of it all because of my proximity to new parenthood, which is the undercurrent of her character arc, but the truth is, all of the women are Selling Bullshit about themselves in order to play some version of a character their producers think needs to be represented. For example, resident vegan Heather, makes the off-putting remark that she’s never had an Oreo. She goes on to search whether Oreos are healthy and discovers that they are naturally vegan, which is just a fun little fact about the way food science is both incredible and terrifying. The whole thing is giving Charli on Vanderpump Rules vibes, but for some reason it’s even more annoying? Probably because in 2019, her then–boyfriend–now-husband filmed her on Instagram eating an entire Oreo cake straight from the box, wearing sweatpants, no makeup, and a messy bun by the way, looking directly to camera and telling him she was eating a vegan Oreo cake. WHY LIE ABOUT THIS?!?!??!
Then there’s Emma, the new gal last season, sitting atop her empanada empire – her empir-nada, if you will. Allegedly, her empanada business was SO successful that it afforded luxuries like flying private. Meanwhile, her empanadas were nowhere to be found in any store I’ve ever shopped, and appeared (at the time) to only be available on her very low-fi website for basically wholesale? It’s empa-nada making a lot of sense to me, but methinks empanadas alone aren’t exactly paying Emma’s bills. Oh, and this season, she’s telling stories that are even harder to swallow than her vegan empanadas – she alleges Ben Affleck like, asked her out on a dating app? Or that they dated? Idk, I tend to go partially comatose when she’s on screen, but spoiler alert: Ben Affleck has already publicly stated that this never happened, which is just vvvvv empa-barrasing for her. (I have limited time to empa-press you with my empanada puns.)
What even is Mary’s deal, though? I think she’s one of the only women who actually sells houses? But why does she dress like me in 2008, who put on clothes for the workday based on what I wanted to wear for going out after work??? Shrunken vests and capris with heels, WHAT A TIME TO BE ALIVE. She’s full of shit, too. Take her wedding, for instance. In one of the first couple seasons, we’re spectators to the process of Mary frantically planning her wedding to Romain, and watch in anticipation (I guess?) to see if she will ever find a venue for her ceremony that’s in 9 days?!?!? Thank god her ex-boyfriend, now-boss, and also BFF4EVR Brett is there to lend one of the homes their selling for the event. Y’all. No. This is no more real than sleep training a 12-week old baby. She had flowers, catering, linens!!! All of these vendors would require scoping out your venue weeks, if not months in advance in order to make proper delivery and set up arrangements, not to mention determine layout and dimensions and shit. Anyway, it’s all been debunked and you can easily give it a Goog to find out that they were already married for like a year before this ever happened.
And don’t even get me started on Chrishelle. She is just…the worst. Really, the true villain of the show, if you ask me. I still don’t quite get her divorce from Jason Hartley, but, like a calculator with no batteries, it doesn’t add up.
Here’s my point: this show is using women who want fame and money (which is absolutely fine and I take zero issue with) and exploiting them into telling fabricated stories about themselves under the guise of reality as some kind of example of what women should look like. Making up stories to create plots isn’t even the problem – it’s the part about how the show is suggesting women ought to behave to various life events.
New girl shows up at work? Haze her.
Someone’s prettier than you? Play mind games to crush her confidence.
Just went through the baseline trauma that is having a child on top of what you claim to have been a life-threatening labor and delivery experience? Look better than you ever have before in the first month of your baby’s life.
These are tropes from the 80s, y’all. Some real Heathers shit, which IS one of the best movies of all time, but it only works because…it’s not real!!!!
If the producers of the show want to tell specific stories about glamorous women selling, but not really selling, luxury homes in the Hollywood Hills, where the only thing more expensive than the home prices are the wardrobes of the women selling them, then write that goddamn show. Make it a scripted series. I wouldn’t be half as offended if the same storylines we’re being served through lies were just lines written for actors. Because then, we the audience, and they the talent, are in on it together. It’s not an exploitation of people who are merely trying to navigate the shark-infested waters of “making it big” or the women watching in awe and guilt at home between breastfeeding and pumping.
I don’t know what the fuck Adam DiVello’s goal is – for all I know, he’s a very gay man that aboslutely loves women (I literally know nothing about him), but what I do know is his biggest shows are ones in which women are portrayed as catty, one-dimensional, smart yet still easily focused on tropes of yore designed to pit women against each other over dumb fucking shit, and absolutely gorgeous and flawless at all times not matter what. THIS IS DANGEROUS TO REPRESENT AS REALITY.
But back to Christine…
I’ve talked a lot about her shoes, but really, it’s her back I’m most worried about, after she’s been carrying the weight of the show on it for 3 years!! Without Christine, there is no show, which is why she told the lies she did.
She understood that by playing into the role of villain, she was guaranteed air time, even when she wasn’t on screen, since she is literally the only thing the other women talk about.
She understood that if she could just figure out how to milk the platform the show provides her, she could parlay it into sustainable brands and businesses that won’t evaporate with the 15 minutes of fame most reality stars experience.
I can’t say with certainty, but I like to believe that she understands the role she played on the show was just that - a role, and not a role model. That the caricature she played could potentially be very damaging for women in their most vulnerable emotional state just after having a child. It really seems like she understands the goal of producers was to use her as pawn, and yet, in the end, she bested the chessmaster, and showed all her cards and Grand Slammed the fuck out of there…idk, I was trying a games thing and I just can not.
Interestingly, days after the show premiered, she announced a new business venture with her entrepreneur husband called RealOpen, a platform that allows buyers to purchase homes with crypto without the need for brokers or agents (at least, that’s what I understand about it). I mean, Kyle is super into crypto, so I may be a little drunk on the Kool-Aid, but this sounds like a big fucking deal. I’m pretty sure she’s about to hit level of RIIIIIIIIIICH BITCH SHIT we’ve never seen, and that she won’t need the help of “reality tv” to achieve.
Business ventures aren’t the only thing Christine’s tweets about. Just before the show premiered, she tweeted “enjoy the new season and all its 5,000 fake storylines.”
And just like Kristin Cavallari before her, Christine drove off into the (selling) sunset. But this time, she doused the set in gasoline, lit a match, and flipped all of us the bird.
