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“Cashmere Mafia” Recaps: Episode 1.1 “Pilot”

I love New York – I love New York, but I love TV New York even more. TV New York is an idyllic Gotham where everyone has a huge apartment with a view in a hip neighborhood. TV New Yorkers work at great-paying jobs; have creative, important friends; and never, ever do laundry. Even the homeless people living under the Manhattan Bridge are vaguely attractive and don’t at all smell like ass.

Also, cabs are plentiful at 3 in the morning. Street parking is always ample and free; you can pull up and park right in front of the building you’re visiting, day or night. Right in front!

ABC’s new dramedy, Cashmere Mafia (read all the details here), is set in TV New York and follows the lives of four alpha women who make gobs of money, make lots of dinner reservations and make do with the weaker sex: the men in their lives.

Cashmere Mafia‘s executive producer Darren Star was the creator of Sex and the City. Is it illegal to steal your own material? Can he sue himself?

I love you – It’s a lovely, warm Manhattan morning. Mia and Jack, the very models of well-heeled, young, professional New Yorkers, are strolling to work and arguing about the date of their first date, one year ago. As they pass by a park, two street musicians are playing the Modern English classic “Melt With You.” Mia stops, remembering that these very same people were singing that very same song on their first date, and wonders, what are the chances? She turns to find Jack down on one knee, holding out a ring. In reality, no man wearing a quality wool suit would touch his knee to a sidewalk where the stains are equal parts dog, pigeon and human. Passersby stop and applaud, grinning their society-approving smiles as she gasps into her hands, stares at Jack in giddy disbelief, and finally says excitedly, “Yes!”

May I call in sick? I feel a little nauseated.

The only thing that prevents me from lying down with a cold compress is the jaunty, tinkly music that is suspiciously reminiscent of Sex and the City. I keep expecting Miranda and Samantha to show up, arguing about sperm volume.

I love my job – Giddy as all get-out, Jack and Mia skip all the way to the offices of Barnstead Media where they both work. They’re intercepted by their boss, a Brit named Clive, in front of the building.

Clive tells them the latest news: There’s been a consolidation “on the print side,” and one of their jobs is going to be eliminated. To make it interesting, and because the English do love games, Clive proposes a contest.

Clive: We’re going to play a little game here called “Survivor of West 23rd Street.” Jack: OK. Which means? Clive: Whichever one of you closes the biggest block of advertising this quarter, stays. The other one’s off the island. Mia: This quarter closes Friday. Clive: And winner takes all. [looking down at Mia’s hand] Beautiful ring. You engaged? Jack: [proudly] Just now. Clive: Congratulations. One of you is going to be married to the publisher of the Barnstead Magazine Group.
Actually, the winner of “Survivor of West 23rd Street ” is the tenant who’s able to hang onto their 1,100 square foot, rent-stabilized apartment the longest, without giving in to the developer of a gay-boy gym.

Jack and Mia look at each other, both with the utmost confidence that the other is going down. Jack smiles and suggests it might be easier if one of them steps aside, which is code for “I don’t want to hurt you, little lady.”

Mia tells him, if only in her mind, “Bring it on,” and they give each other one last kiss in the hallway before heading off in mercifully opposite directions.

In her office, Mia immediately emails each one of her posse individually with the same message: “Cancel your lunch. All of us, the usual place.” I would think Mia is familiar with the “multiple recipients” feature of email, so I can only assume her typing the same sentences over and over is her way of savoring the engagement experience to its fullest.

I can see her being that kind of newlywed: the woman who can’t resist inserting the word “husband” into every sentence she utters for the entire first year of marriage. It’s a common heterosexual woman’s form of Tourette’s, but without the amusing shock value.

First to get Mia’s email is Juliet, the COO of a hotel chain, who is in a meeting being mistaken for a coffee-pouring assistant instead of the ranking executive in the room. I don’t feel as bad for Juliet – who coolly explains her position while offering more cream and sugar – as I do for Dumb and Dumber, the two gender-quaint vendors who are so inept they don’t even know who the hell they’re meeting with. Next, there’s Caitlin, a marketing VP with relationship problems. When Mia’s email comes through, Caitlin, a blond hottie, is having breakfast at an outdoor café with her boyfriend, a nondescript whiner whose name won’t matter for long. Let’s call him Blandy McNeedie. Caitlin glances at Mia’s message in the middle of suffering through Blandy’s laundry list of complaints about their relationship.

Blandy: OK, perfect example: you and that thing. You just can’t wait to pick it up, can you? Caitlin: What is this, Get Caitlin Day? Blandy: Honestly, if it had a vibrator attachment, you wouldn’t need me … which is kinda the issue, to tell you the truth. Caitlin: Wait a minute. Are you dumping me? During breakfast? Blandy: I’m trying to tell you what I need, what I’m not getting from this relationship. Caitlin : OK then. You know what you can get? The check … for once.
Ha ha. Caitlin should’ve ordered the salmon. Meanwhile, a Crackberry with a vibrator attachment? Sheer brilliance.

The last “mafia” member to get the revised lunch plans is Zoe, a managing director at an investment bank. Zoe is on the classic working-from-home conference call that includes two brats running around the house screaming at the top of their little leather lungs, “Mommy, Mommy!” while she tries to buy low and sell high. Zoe emerges from her phone booth of peace (otherwise known as the coat closet) only to be told by her scruffy, loyal hubby that while she was out of town on business, their nanny was stolen away by the neighbors, lured across the street by a trail of treats that included two months’ paid vacation, six figures and a car. Wow. I want to be a New York City nanny, except I don’t like kids. Is it at all like being a dog walker?

I love my friends – At lunch, the girls immediately notice Mia’s new ring and squeal like, well, a bunch of straight girls on helium. Mia allows them a few seconds of joy and then tells them there’s a “however.”

Caitlin guesses the “however” is an outrageous pre-nup demand because she’s having “trust issues with men,” ya know, as of three hours ago. But no. Mia explains the “however” is the sudden death round of “Survivor of West 23rd Street.” Should she go for the win?

Juliet: What’s the prize, the job or the man? Zoe: [who has both] Well, both. Juliet: [who’s had to choose] Well, she has to choose. Caitlin: It’s 2007. She doesn’t have to choose. She brings it. Juliet: I know what year it is. I also know it would be a helluva way to start off an engagement.
Before the ladies can resolve the question at hand, a stylish woman named Cilla Grey slithers over to their table and asks Caitlin to put in a good word for her at the chi-chi building where Caitlin lives. Cilla wants to buy the penthouse unit but in New York and other cities, it’s not enough to have a few spare million dollars lying around to buy a kick-ass co-op or condo. You have to be approved by a board of residents who may not appreciate your taste in furniture or lucrative escort business.

Caitlin smiles and tells Cilla she is a board member in her building. She’ll see what she can do.

I love a $12 martini – Later that night, everyone and their significant others are out at a swanky bar for Mia and Jack’s engagement party. Juliet gives a speech about how back in business school, Mia described her perfect mate as being like herself: smart, funny, generous, driven. “Mia with a penis,” she quips, and everyone laughs. Yeah, OK. That saying doesn’t work for same-sex folks. Do I really want me with a vagina? Wouldn’t that just be more me?

Somehow, I doubt Jack’s perfect mate has ever been “Jack with a vagina.” One of them is going to be disappointed.

Married and proud of it, Juliet chimes in on the virtues of being coupled. “No matter where life takes you, you’re home,” she announces, raising a glass to her husband, Davis. This is especially true for Zoe, who takes business calls in her home in the closet. Everyone enjoys a few overpriced drinks. The men dispense some old-fashioned marriage advice to the groom-to-be. “Never use the ‘R’ word. It’s like the ‘C’ word,” Zoe’s husband tells Jack. Jack looks confused until he’s told that “R” stands for “relax.” All the men (and many lesbian viewers at home) nod knowingly. After the party, Mia and Jack grab a cab that stops at their feet the moment they step out of the bar. Mia asks Jack about the “Survivor” game; what if she wins and he loses his job? Jack is flippant and tells her he plans on staying home and watching The View.

Yeah, don’t sweat it. Checking in about feelings and your relationship and stuff? That’s for lesbians.

Back at Juliet’s house, she and her husband are getting frisky because he has a business trip the next day and this is their ritual when he’s going out of town. Their teenage daughter walks in, sees them, rolls her jaded eyes with disgust, and leaves in a huff of teen surliness.

I might love ad reps – The next morning, Caitlin’s assistant, a fey dude with glasses and dreds, rouses her up from the couch in her office. Why she didn’t go home is anyone’s guess, but there’s no time for that now; the new rep from an ad agency is here to see her.

Caitlin smoothes her tresses and throws a shirt on just as the rep, Alicia, waltzes in. Alicia has an enormous smile and lustrous, caramel skin. Caitlin takes a step forward to shake hands and knocks something off the corner of her desk. Both women bend down in unison to pick it up and clunk heads. They laugh. It’s total color-by-numbers, cliché, meet-cute bull crap, but you forgive it because Alicia is an HOC, or Hottie of Color. Caitlin is momentarily taken aback by the megawatt smile and twinkling eyes in front of her. An unmistakable, flustered look of attraction comes out of nowhere and passes over her face in a nanosecond. OK, maybe this show can be saved.

I don’t love workplace drama – At Zoe’s office, someone’s been sitting in her chair. When Zoe opens the door, she finds her assistant on her phone with her little bidness heels propped up on the desk, setting a drinks meeting for herself with Zoe’s client. Ambitious women. Always there for each other.

Meanwhile, Jack is trying to drum up the ad sales that will win him the corner office and bury his fiancée. Mia hangs around his office as he confirms a trip to a Connecticut race track to do a little coolio race car driving with a client named Peter Johnson.

Given the whole battle-of-the-sexes thing, is that name supposed to be a joke? Why not Dick Weiner, John Thomas or Willy Wood? Hey Jack, you have Harry Ball holding on line two. We can all play this game.

Mia isn’t happy about Jack’s extended face time with Peter and scurries back to her side of the building to launch countermeasures: dinner and a poker tourney for herself and Mr. Johnson at an event for high-rollers and rock stars.

Elsewhere, Juliet is on her cell, leaving Davis a voicemail offering to take the corporate jet to meet him for some golf and hotel sex in Hilton Head. Then they can ride home together like the happy power-couple they are. Davis sees his cell buzzing with his wife’s call, but he can’t answer it. He’s pinned under something heavy. It’s Cilla, the woman who wants “in” at Caitlin’s building. Davis is not out of town, but he is stepping out on his wife.

I love fast women – It’s pre-dawn, and after clubbing and cards (liquor in the front, poker in the back?) with Mia, Peter Johnson is limp, happy and sitting in a 24-hour diner. The client is disheveled, middle-aged and paunchy, but Mia looks inexplicably smashing, because she is, after all, Lucy Liu.

Mia’s strategy is that old Beastie Boys B-side, “No Sleep Till Broken.” Exhausted, Peter Johnson finally gives in and promises Mia a huge ad buy because you don’t say no to a woman who can outlast you while wearing four-inch designer heels.

In the office the next morning, Jack is livid – Johnson canceled their day trip because Mia kept him out all night. He pokes at her shoulder as she sleeps on her office couch.

Jack: You torpedoed a colleague. At least own up to it. Mia: I didn’t do anything you don’t do. Jack: Ya know, that’s what I hate about working with women. Mia: What? Jack: You make like you’re playing by the rules, but when push comes to shove, out come the looks and the sexy little signals … Mia: Excuse me. Have you even met Peter Johnson?
They bicker some more until Jack blurts out, “It’s a good thing I’m marrying you …” and Mia wants to know what the hell that’s supposed to mean.

Jack finishes, “Because I’d hate not having you on my team.” Mia melts and smiles. Gah, Mia is easy. Too easy.

Confessions – Meanwhile, Caitlin is pacing back and forth in front of a church muttering a practice confession to herself: “Forgive me Father, for I have sinned. It’s been God-only-knows-when since my last confession and here are my sins. I think I might be gay. I don’t know if I’m gay. Oh God!”

Gay? Wha? Alicia’s got powers. Damn, girl.

Inside the church, the priest turns out to be Caitlin’s brother. He’s her father and her brother. Father Brother advises Caitlin, “The only real danger is ending up like Aunt Ruth.” I’m not sure what that means, but I think it involves cats, comfortable shoes and a well of loneliness.

Father Brother: I want what’s best for you. You’ve been dating for 20 years. Caitlin: Fifteen! Father Brother: Whatever. And at some point, I think it’s OK if you admit that it’s not about finding the right guy anymore; it’s about the right person. Caitlin: Well, I don’t even know if she’s gay or straight … I don’t know if I’m gay. [whispering] I don’t know if she even gave me a second thought. Just, there was this vibe, ya know? Just going for drinks … drinks is safe, ya think?
You know you’re in bad shape when you have to ask a Catholic priest for dating advice. That said, Caitlin’s brother seems like a decent sort, albeit with a mixed bag of messages. Off the record? Go have fun and find happiness. On the record? Good luck with the hell thing.

Busted – Meanwhile, Zoe and her husband are looking for a woman to make them happy too – a new nanny to live in their ginormous apartment and watch over their little cherubs. One young candidate looks good. All she asks for is a cell with unlimited texting, a TV with premium channels in her room, and a MetroCard. In other words, nothing more than the kids have.

Before her husband can say “W-9 form,” Zoe has hired the only white, blond nanny in New York, and she can start tonight! Zoe runs out the door, late for yet another important meeting. Zoe is forever running to or out of a Very Important Meeting. Sitting in traffic in the back of her corporate town car, Zoe sees something disturbing, and it’s not a homeless vet brushing his teeth at a leaking fire hydrant. It’s Juliet’s husband, Davis, and he’s making out with Cilla in broad daylight on a street corner. Theater in the round, so to speak. Never trust a guy whose first name is a last name.

Zoe goes to meet with Caitlin and Mia for an emergency processing session.

Mia: If it was you, would you want to know? Zoe: If it was Eric, and you guys knew, and you didn’t tell me, and then I found out, I’d kill you. Mia: Or, we could spare Juliet and pay Davis a little visit and punch his balls off.
How cool is Lucy Liu? Whether she’s playing Mia, Ling from Ally McBeal, one of Charlie’s angels or the O-Ren chick in Kill Bill, she’s always up for punching someone’s balls off, which I’m not even sure is physically possible.

After a brief deliberation and a few sips of martini, the girls decide to tell Juliet. They simultaneously check their Crackberries for an opening to deliver the news together, as if they’re all so busy. And yet, they always seem to have time to meet at the drop of a hat, go to church in the middle of a weekday, interview house help or swing by Hilton Head for a spontaneous sex date. They decide to tell Juliet tomorrow, right before her big benefit event.

Later, at home with a decent husband, Zoe’s got other problems. Her angelic nanny is turning out to be a clubbing, vintage wine-mooching brat who thinks nothing of walking around the house in Victoria ‘s Secret lingerie. Like those are bad things.

A non-date date – While the married folks are home wringing their sheets with anxiety over nannies, being perfect parents and making more money, Caitlin is out having “safe” drinks with Alicia. Now we’re talking.

Alicia turns out to be a borough girl like Caitlin, who’s from Brooklyn. Alicia grew up in Queens. They bond over making something of themselves from humble beginnings and look into each other’s eyes in a way that Charlotte and Carrie never did. After several minutes of mutual professional admiration, the bartender tells them they have admirers who want to buy them drinks. They look down the bar at the two attractive, successful men looking their way, and ho hum, Alicia and Caitlin both decide to leave instead. Holla.

On the sidewalk, Caitlin smiles and says, “Well, this was fun,” and gives Alicia a double-cheek, straight-girl air kiss. But instead of turning and walking off, Caitlin stands there. They look at each other for a moment. Then, Alicia steps up and leans in. She takes Caitlin’s face gently in her hands and lays a lingering kiss on her mouth. Caitlin stammers: “Ish, ah. Um. Meh. I, uh, eh hem.” She has started speaking her own language. Finally, she manages to say, “… terrible time with men, and no experience with women, so I’m kinda flying without the instruments here and uh …”

Alicia saves Caitlin from herself by kissing her again. It’s sweet and spontaneous and relaxed, just as the best kisses always are. Alicia says, “I think I should tell you you’re a wonderful kisser,” rendering Caitlin speechless again because her brain just fell out of her head and onto the sidewalk.

And with that, Alicia announces she’s late, skips two steps to the curb and hails a cab that pulls up at that very moment. Caitlin turns and unlocks her car, which is parked right in front of the bar. I don’t know which is more unbelievable: the miracle parking and cab situation on this show, or a straight woman ever saying “flying without the instruments” to another woman. However, all is forgiven because they didn’t wait four episodes to get to this point in Caitlin’s story.

The secret – Jack and Mia are still vying for top dog at the publishing house, wooing the same client with golf clubs and drinks. Meanwhile, Zoe’s perfect nanny has set off the smoke alarm with her cigarette, forcing Zoe to ditch yet another huge meeting with a dozen suits.

Meanwhile, Caitlin is nowhere to be found, but she’s probably at the bookstore, standing in the gay and lesbian section with her head tilted all the way to the right. Just another day at the office for the Cashmere Mafia. (Are Italian Americans upset over the show’s title? Are goats upset over the show’s title?)

That night, the real work begins: telling Juliet about her slime-ball husband.

The girls meet at Juliet’s house, all dressed in black. It’s not a funeral. It’s New York. Zoe gently but firmly tells Juliet she married Romeo, for reals.

Juliet says calmly: “Well, thank you for that. I know it couldn’t have been easy. I’ll get us some wine.” Juliet opens a bottle while Mia gets everyone a glass. Silence.

Zoe: Juliet? Say something. Juliet: What’s there to say? My husband steps out on me. Mia: You knew? Juliet: About Cilla Grey? No, that’s kind of a nasty wrinkle. It’s always been an out-of-town sort of thing. Caitlin: How can you stay with him? Juliet: Do not judge me. When you’ve been with someone, anyone – a man, a woman, a pet for 15 years – then we will talk. You do not get to judge me!
Caitlin looks down at the floor at the words, “a woman.” Yes, it shows. Everyone knows. You have a big rainbow “L” on your forehead, honey.

Juliet explains in cringe-worthy straight woman logic that can only be written by a straight man: “I’m not excusing him. But, look at what a man gives up to be with one of us. We make more money, we rise higher. We take up more space. We are as far from the idea of a wife he can walk with as it’s possible to be, and wear his ring and go by his last name.”

Check, please.

“Don’t get me wrong, I hate it. But I hate the alternative more. I don’t want to be a single mother, a blind date, third wheel. I love having someone to come home to, to go to parties and do the postmortems with, to plan holidays for. So, there it is: the secret to my happy marriage.”

Well, it’s not a secret anymore, silly! Now we can all be happy. Right up until the day we snap and kill someone.

Mia’s advice to Juliet is to change her dress from black to “something more daring.” Like what? A nude unitard?

The benefit – After the girls down a few more glasses of wine and perhaps have an inner dialogue with themselves (Mia resolves to never set her bar that low; Zoe thanks God her husband isn’t an a-hole like Davis; Caitlin feels superior about her new attraction to women), they all head out to enjoy themselves at Juliet’s black-tie benefit thing.

The girls enter in slow motion. Zoe, Mia and Caitlin are in formal black, but Juliet has changed into a daring little red dress. She’s a little red Corvette. When they see Davis, the girls castrate him with their eyes. If only Mia would actually punch his balls off, that would make this a benefit to remember, but she’s not dressed for it tonight.

At dinner, Juliet is being honored for something, but my guess is it’s not Feminist of the Year. As the announcer lauds Juliet, Davis puts his arm around her shoulder. She doesn’t look at him; he doesn’t look at her. Then she says, “I know about Cilla Grey.” Davis’ face turns the color of the rubber chicken on his plate.

Davis: It’s over right now. Juliet: It sure as hell better be. Davis: What can I do? Just tell me what to do. Juliet: You know what you can do, Davis? Take a good look around at all our friends. Davis: [looking around] OK. Juliet: Now, you won’t know when, and you won’t know who, but I’m going to take one of them as my lover and I’m going to do things with him that will curl your toes. And then I’m going to end it, and you and I can start over with a clean slate.
Another great role model for young women everywhere, especially her daughter, who’s so jaded she probably already knows all about her parents’ sham marriage.

While Juliet gives her speech, Zoe checks her watch. Making as much noise as possible, she sneaks out of the event and over to her daughter’s school, where a ballet is being performed by 10-year-olds in little tutus.

Zoe does what any mom who’s missing her daughter’s recital would do: She sneaks in the back door, walks along the edge of the stage, topples some set pieces while trying to be stealthy, step on a kid’s toe, and clunks down the stage steps and into her seat in the audience.

True colors – The next morning is Friday, the day Mia and Jack learn who rules and who drools. Clive walks into Mia’s office and tells her simply: “Congratulations, Mia. You’re the new publisher of Barnstead Media.”

A few minutes later, Jack shows up in her office smiling and holding a bottle of champagne. She throws her arms around him, but he doesn’t move. Mia is confused and asks what’s going on.

“I thought I’d win,” Jack says, the grin disappearing from his face. “You’d be disappointed. You’d throw yourself into looking for a place or planning the wedding. But now, it’s reversed. I can’t see my place in it.”

Yes, because choosing centerpieces and napkin colors is as good as the biggest promotion of your life. For some women, it’s better. But Mia is not one of those women.

Jack says they’re obviously moving in “different directions.” Mia gently reminds him they both want the same things – kids and someone to come home to – but Jack walks out anyway, leaving her in shock. Thanks for ruining a great day, Jack. It’s all about you, bud.

The next morning, Caitlin is ready to tell the girls the interesting turn of events in her personal life. She walks in last – everyone is already seated at their favorite table in their usual restaurant.

Caitlin: OK, I have something to tell you ladies. You’ll never guess who I kissed the other night – Zoe: Mia got the job and Jack called it off. Caitlin: Oh my God, I’m so sorry! And screw him! Mia: Well, not anymore.
Everyone laughs. Just then, Cilla Grey walks in, followed by her frazzled realtor. Seems Caitlin’s building denied her application and the penthouse deal is dead. Huh. I wonder how that happened.

Adding insult to injury, the girls are sitting at the table Cilla reserved, or so she thought. Cilla walks over and tells them what for.

Cilla: The Cashmere Mafia. That’s what they call you, you know. Juliet: Really? Cilla: You don’t want to know what I know about you. Juliet: And you don’t want to know what I know about you. Careful there.
Rarr. Cilla sashays away in her $600 Manolos to fight another day.

After Cilla’s gone, the attention is back on Caitlin. “Who did you kiss?” they all want to know. But it’s sort of anticlimatic now, and Caitlin saves her news for another time. At the speed she’s going, she’s going to have more to tell than “I kissed a girl” by then. I hope.

Next time on Cashmere Mafia: Caitlin tells all, and guess which one of her friends hasn’t had a lesbian experience?

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