Last week, Main Line socialites were abuzz over what seemed like an inevitable casting call for, yes, a “Real Housewives of the Main Line”. (“Blue bloods, nouveau riche and career women are invited to apply.”) About four seconds later, though, everyone heaved a collective sigh―some out of relief, some of disappointment―when Dan Gross reported that Bravo all but laughed off the possibility of a Philly-based franchise. “We’re involved in casting all over the country for a variety of projects,” they told him. “This is not one of them.” Sure, the local film company responsible for the casting call might pitch Bravo the show, but, the spokesperson reportedly clarified, Philly ought not speculate that Bravo would ever accept such a project.
I will guiltily admit to watching more Real Housewives than any one human being should (like, maybe every single episode of every single franchise ever, except for D.C. Does anybody watch D.C.?). I’m sorry to say that I’m something of an expert. And as such, I can promise that the Main Line would make for awesome TV. It’d be like some fabulous mix of the O.C. crew and the New Jersey crew, with a touch of New York thrown in. (For non-fans: That’s like part “Dynasty”, part “Sopranos”, part “Survivor”.) The Main Line was maaaaaade for reality television.
Whether this particular (and particularly delightful) scourge of reality TV would be good or bad for the Main Line―and Philly, by extension―is a whole other post. The point is that Bravo has basically deputized a handful of wealthy locales―including New Jersey, for pete’s sake―as TV-worthy. The flat refusal to publicly entertain the idea that the legendary wealthy suburbs of Philadelphia (home, I might add, to the original real housewife and socialite, Hope Montgomery Scott) might have something scintillating to offer reminds me of a story I read not long ago that referred to Philadelphia as part of “flyover country.” It’s misplaced elitism, and flat-out craziness.
For that reason alone, I hope the Main Liners really throw down for this one. I hope that the socialites go hit up “Top Chef” contestant Jen Carroll over at 10 Arts―Bravo seems to like her―for some tips. I hope the Main Line housewives (and career women and blue bloods and nouveau riche) out-drama the New York women and out-snip the Beverly Hills women and maybe even out-mouth the New Jersey women. I hope the local production company hits the jackpot and hope Bravo sees the error of its ignorant ways. I hope we all get some good bad TV of the hometown variety. It’s no less than an issue of Philly pride now.