Vanderpump Rules


Why can't pretty girls get along?

It's as predictable as watching a Youtube video of someone falling over on an escalator go viral - put a group of good looking girls together, and you'll get a fight. It's been the bread and butter of reality TV for the last 14 years. Mean Girls even turned girl on girl nastiness into quotable comedy; nastiness that could be printed onto t-shirts and mugs. 

“But you're, like, really pretty… So you agree? You think you're really pretty?” 

Of course I'm not saying that only good looking girls can be bitchy (or that all good looking girls are bitchy), but when it comes to getting a horde of glossy, high cheekboned, thigh-gapped girls together in front of a camera, things go NUTS. We've seen it with our own eyes: on The Hills, Made in Chelsea, on Britain's Next Top Model, and on Vanderpump Rules.

“Regina George is not sweet! She's a scum-sucking road whore, she ruined my life!”

On Vanderpump Rules, ice queen Stassi and her cronies make it their mission to make every new girl - particularly Scheana - who works at SUR terrified of them. They aren't made welcome, they need to be on the verge of wetting themselves with fear at all times: Stassi rules with an iron ponytail. But what is it about these hot girls that makes them so damn mean? Surely they could be happy with the knowledge that they're better looking than 90% of the world, and sit back to have a drink together and celebrate? No: get a roomful of good-looking women together and you get some kind of sexy Hunger Games. They're so used to being the Queen Bee of their school, when there are too many of them in one place, they don't know who's in charge. So they turn on each other.

“One time, she punched me in the face. It was awesome.”

Mean Girls is an extreme example (no one accused me of making out with a hot dog) but we've all seen it happen in real life. On my first day of university I was greeted by the resident Queen Bees as I hoisted all fifty of my cardboard Ikea filing boxes up the stairs to my new room. They'd already met and become best friends the previous night, naturally. They were good looking, and had incredible hair in the way that only very rich girls can. These girls made it clear they didn't want anyone else in their clique.

That night as they got ready to go out, they all piled into one room with glasses of expensive wine. “Has anyone got a spare pashmina?” one shrilled as they collapsed into giggles and stage whispers about the other girls on our corridor (I'd never heard of a pashmina, never mind having a ‘spare' one). By the end of the year they all hated each other.

“You all have got to stop calling each other sluts and whores. It just makes it okay for guys to call you sluts and whores.”

Luckily, either you stop caring as you get older or the cliques dissipate and normal life resumes. Unless you live in Beverly Hills, as the middle-aged Real Housewives of Beverly Hills routinely display. But there are still plenty of younger ones out there willing to play it all out in front of a camera for our entertainment and it will never, ever stop making good TV.