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Best Worst Music Video of All Time? C'est Vrai!!


I should never admit this, not here or anywhere else, but since this atrociously memorable, brazenly ridiculous video requires a description, I'll do it: Bravo's "The Real Housewives of New York" is without a doubt my guiltiest pleasure, and certainly the most embarrassing. WHEW! I feel a hundred pounds lighter now.  With that out of the way, I must insist INSIST you allow yourself the pleasure of these three unforgettably god-awful minutes of ironic greatness. Do not dismiss my endorsement simply because of my unacceptable, inexcusable appreciation of the trashiest cable franchise of all time.

One of the seven catty bitches who parade their luxurious superficial lives through the streets and designer boutiques of Manhattan for all to see on cable TV, Countess LuAnn (those two words are perhaps the ultimate oxymoron, regal abutting homespun) is much more than just the consummately classy divorcée who offers unsolicited etiquette tips to her fellow cast members best friends at every opportunity.

LuAnn has delusions of major pop star prowess, as exhibited last season during her magnificently un-self-aware nightclub performance of a "song" called "Money Can't Buy You Class" (immediately evident as soon as she grabbed the mic), the auto-tuned-to-Hell track she commissioned as her debut single. It is easily the worst song I have ever heard and certainly the most cringe-inducing live performance imaginable, all performed with full congratulations from the nightclub crowd, all of whom were no doubt paid to pretend they were the opposite of horrified.

Well, lucky for her legion of adoring fans mocking viewers, turns out the Countess is no one-trick pony. Her second "song" (as if any producers would be masochistic enough to bring a full album into existence) has "dropped," as the kids say, and it is a priceless treasure beyond compare, befitting the majesty of America's favorite pretend Royal. "Chic, C'est La Vie" is truly something to behold, the song itself so utterly lacking in substance that the video's deadpan revelry in the diamond-drenched day-to-day of these "Real" housewives' (only a minority of whom are still married, mind you) somehow manages to achieve pop perfection. Embracing banality & bragging about it? Pop defined. Mercí, LuAnn!

Case in point.

The best thing about LuAnn's musical talents are that they're nonexistent, meaning the insistent Countess (who is long divorced from the actual Count from whom she leeched the dignified title) makes no effort to do anything but recite the lyrics. The result is a sort of soft-edged white rich lady version of rap, with choral interludes that do nothing so much as remind us yet again that LuAnn speaks French. Okay, fine!! I can't get this damned chorus out of my head either!!! Mon dieu!!

"Ladies and gentlemen: This is the Countess speaking. We have arrived..."

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