Russian (Raggedy Anya) Dolls: What I Learned from Trashy Television

Lifetime is still playing broke ass cousin to Bravo and MTV's reality shows, and in case you need proof, check out Russian Dolls, the Плохо, poor man’s version of Jersey Shore. Don’t get it twisted- I got just as sucked in. Something about those marginally attractive, completely arrogant, unbelievable materialistic “friends” just got me all stupid, silly drunk on them and I couldn’t stop watching once I tuned in.

It truly was JS without so many obviously drunken antics, but they got down with hella doses of straight up crazy: Women going on 2 dates and calling dudes their “boyfriends” and wanting them to meet their parents, chicks dating dudes who get tattoos that read, “I won’t kill you, but I will watch you die”, and bitches who scream and lose their minds at beauty parlors when their cheap ass weaves, that Mattel wouldn’t put on a Barbie Loves Beauty Styling Head, don’t fluff and style the way they want. It’s a crazy deeper than Lake Baikal, truer than the cold of Siberia, and more addictive than vodka. These nuts work that Russian stereotype down to their furs and their rampant gossip. Loves it!

But my favorite part was the confessional, when they talked to one of the cast members, Eddie, and his best friend (read: They met at the auditions and got along), Albert. These fools obviously have a good, humorous rapport and Lifetime worked that. At one point, though, through all their eighth- grade observations and ridiculously chauvinistic, bullshit musings, these douche buckets actually say something that bears repeating- which goes to show everyone has value to someone at some point.

I can’t remember what they were talking about, and I refuse to use energy that could be applied to something productive that could truly enhance my life trying to remember what it was, but one of them makes this obvious and simple, yet amazingly profound (to me) statement:

“Russian women demand to be treated well. So, you treat them well.”

Now I know that all of our camp counselors and church advisers have told us girls that we should demand queen treatment since we were knee high to a grass hopper, but I think it’s worth revisiting again. In our culture, although we don’t admit it, we tend to bend to accommodate males. No one wants to be the bitch, or the asshole, and we end up settling for people and things that we absolutely know we shouldn’t. A Russian woman will tell you to “eat her fcuk” faster than you can say “Bolshevik”, flip her fur, add more lip gloss, and keep walking. No apologies, no explanations. I’m not saying that we have to be that hard- but we need to stand our ground better.

Why is there a stripper pole in my house? Why am I biting my tongue when you say something erroneous and silly when I know it’s wrong? Why I am I lowering myself to you when you should be raising yourself up to me? See, Russian bitches know this and even though I have always loved them, I never realized why. Until now. These women, who are so sistah on the inside, douse themselves in parfum "Ain't the One" and call it a day. And I love, love, love them for it.

I think that the Russian Dolls show has already died and been buried in a trashy television unmarked grave (I could be wrong), but if you get the chance to check it, do yourself the pleasure. It’s like tea, vodka, caviar, fur, and disco blue eye shadow all rolled up into one lovely babushka of a wonderfully bad, entertaining show.