Although few of us will fit the skinny white-now turned mocha thanks to the recent addition of Vanessa Williams-Desperate Housewife mold, we are all-men included-desperate. Longing, yearning and yes, roiling inside.
Perhaps we can find solace in the characters’ through-lines and Marc Cherry’s clearly defined stories. If it isn’t possible to identify with one, then maybe, it’s feasible to see ourselves as a composite of each Wisteria Lane Desperate Housewife.
Lynette has struggled with cancer, unruly twins, career ups and downs and now, a mother-in-law with dimension. Her straightforward, matter-of-fact manner rankles some and endears others.
Bree, has dealt with grief in every form. Her perfection finally got the best of her until she got sober and now she has time to enjoy sex with a younger man. If only we could identify with her-at least for an evening or two.
Susan raised a daughter alone, battled her ex, burnt a house down and pined for her true love. She has now come clean about her most recent web job “cleaning house.” Although it is unlikely that anyone has been locked out of the house naked, the haplessness might ring a bell.
Gabrielle has flown through infidelity-her own, of course-money loss, monetary gain, miscarriage, childbirth and her husband’s loss of sight. Now, she has learned that Juanita is not her child. If it weren’t for her enormous ego, how would she make it through the numerous challenges she been met with over the years?
Renee is Lynette’s college frienemy-although that word is annoying and overused Renee couldn’t personify the term more perfectly-and has managed to squeeze her way into this tight knit group with a combination of balls and booze. Both work quite well.
The women may disagree, clash or even brawl, but they always seem to find a fair way to end the dispute. The fierce loyalty exhibited in every episode by these women should be, at the very least, an example of how things could be-if we were all skinny and white-er, mocha. And, as unrealistic and stereotypical as these characters are sometimes, the scenarios tend to hit some meat and, occasionally, bone.
That should be worth an hour every Sunday night. Watching this hit show might just be the thing to cure that longing, yearning and roiling desperation. If not, we could always get up, turn off the television, walk outside and actually speak with our neighbors.