Occasionally, a television show comes along that you become totally invested in and can tolerate a few episodes (or an entire season) of roundabout storytelling because you know the payoff is just around the corner. After years of withering under her own revengeful righteousness, Emily found out that David “Beardy Dad” Clarke is alive and mostly well. This should have been a serious moment for the audience but to be honest, I wasn’t feeling it. In fact, I’m more interested in the Louise storyline right now; though I have weakness for sassy gingers, especially if they have a Southern accent. After the BNE mix-up, David didn’t shank Ems, she picked Pops out of a police lineup, and Victoria sunk her claws into him further than his pain chain. We know when the characters wear flats that shit’s gonna go down, and we also know that when they don’t change during an episode the plot is going to move ahead at lightspeed.


Let’s pop over to the magazine for a minute while I gush (as usual) over Margaux’s dress. I’m really into her colour blocking with white. Who says you can’t wear white after Labour Day?  

Although, I have no damn idea what time of year it is for these kids. Sure, there’s sun and some pool scenes, but even when it’s winter they’re sauntering around in cardigans. Hey, I used to live on the east coast, winters ain’t that mild children. Oh, shout out to the skirt the receptionist is wearing. It’s cute from far, though might be far from cute.



OK, Victoria was decked out in a white Michael Kors sheath so it’s definitely spring or summer at this point. I mean, Margaux’s European so wearing white any time of the year is fine. But Victoria, former Monarch of Montauk, would never deign to wear white after the first weekend of September. 

I find it refreshing she’s using silver as the accent rather than gold. I mean, gold and white is classic and sexy, but was so overdone this past year. Enough of looking like a Grecian lady of leisure. Slum it with some other precious metals!


I may have been a little harsh on Charlotte in my last recap. Sometimes caftans are just unforgivable. This week, I’m almost inclined to give her a finger wave and deep “yes you did” for this ensemble. I love the colours. I love the BCBG maxi skirt – even if it looks like a lampshade from 1992. I love the pop of colour on the belt as it pulls the colour from the Clover Canyon top. The hair is always flawless so y’know, she’s good. 

It’s kind of like what you’d wear to a nice brunch after spending a weekend at Coachella but don’t want to let on to your parents you blasted your credit card at “that hippie parade” again. 


On the other hand of the Grayson sibling contingent… ladies and gentlemen, I give you white privilege! Daniel. Daniel, honey. Who the hell wears a damn suit to a rooftop pool? 

On top of that, who chooses a rooftop pool as the ideal place to pore over financial statements and create an investment portfolio? I mean, I know you need the dollars, but wasn’t there an office, or tasteful pub, or public library with those little green banker lamps you could have chosen instead? Live your life, Warren.


Alright, so Daniel’s on the rooftop because Louise beckoned, but I’m sticking to what I said. Oh, this is the third sighting of white and it’s a bikini so it’s clearly summer in New York City. Louise, you’re a gorgeous woman and pulling off a white swimsuit this effortlessly is hat tip worthy. I might even be convinced to let a “give it to ‘em!” slip.


Oh, pink looks really great on her, too. Though I’m not sure about the fabric texture. It reminds me of those country style pillows you’d find at your aunt’s house on her sofa in the room you weren’t supposed to be inside. Still, great colour for a redhead!


Alright, back to the real point of the episode: Emily finding her dirtbag dad. For a woman as chic as Emily, her choice in accessories always baffles me. Some days it’s a lovely thin chain and tasteful pendant, other days it’s .42 with a full clip.  

I’m into the jacket. It reads total New England staple piece with all those pockets and the “is it spring? is it fall?” olive green colour. I bet you could stash many a knife in that jacket.


While she’s arming herself against a potential assassin, said assassin, that is to say Emily’s dirtbag dad, snaps what’s left of his psyche after reading Victoria’s unsettling note. Seriously Victoria, who actually uses the phrase “my love” unless you’re making fun of a Jane Austen movie/novel? I can’t say I was totally on board with the self-torture using the pain-chain, realizing that David did it so he’d have some ammunition against Connie’s ghost was a stroke of mad genius. 

Personally, I’d ditch the family and start fresh in Thailand under the name Ethan Greenberg, but I guess I react differently under pressure.


Since dirtbag Dad gets snapped up by the cops, Emily has to do the whole witness lineup business. This is where she first lays eyes on not-so-dead David Clarke. Understandably, she loses her shit but keeps it together because that’s what we do in the revenge business. 

Nolan was there to help Emily and her coat buttons out of the station. The man knows how to work a colour palette within an inch of its life. I refuse to acknowledge the red belt because this isn’t 2001 and we’re not listening to Avril Lavigne, but that pocket square that looks like it could be a Union Jack is a delight. 


Also delightful? Officer Jack! Always a pleasure to see you and your unbearably handsome face. I’m putting this on the record: short and stocky is my weakness and as you can see, though he may be more fit than stocky, Jack is adorably short. I mean, he’s on the higher part of a slope and Nolan is kneeling down, and Nolan is half his height.

You have the right to remain silent as I write my number down.


In the interrogation room, David gives his best performance as a broken torture victim, placing Connie squarely in the middle of everything. The shock he fakes is actually impressive and the man deserves an Golden Globe nod. I totally see where Emily gets it. However, all of this plays right into Victoria’s hands because David doesn’t know Emily is Amanda and OH LOOK WE SEEM TO BE BACK WHERE WE STARTED. Emily and Victoria are going to be a real life Spy vs. Spy, each dressed in a signature colour, trying to murder each other for decades. But after all that storyline, this is the money shot:

Look at Victoria’s side-eye to the world. She is letting them have it and I’m living for it.


Two things after this episode:

  1. I’m starting a pool as to when Emily just drops a safe on Victoria. I call episode 18.
  2. Emily and Nolan’s stressed out/angry faces remind me of some familiar characters: