BravoCon Wasn’t Just a Chaotic Fan Convention. It Was a Wellness Retreat.

WE MADE IT NICE

Yes, there was some *choice* behavior at BravoCon that went viral. But for a contingent of passionate fans, it was an emotional weekend of healing, connection, and self-discovery.

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Photo Illustration by Luis G. Rendon/The Daily Beast; Getty

The Bravo community is not known for being particularly, shall we say, chill.

And yet, BravoCon may change everything. Certainly, fractures are evident, and there is toxicity aplenty. (BCC: Whomever was behind the purchased bots that attacked Real Housewives of Beverly Hills star Garcelle Beauvais’ son, Jax, on social media.)

But there is also the opportunity to have meaningful, personal conversations about shows that have a surprising emotional value to fans. It’s a language whose fluency is learned only with commitment, passion, and time.

Nowhere was this more evident than at BravoCon, the three-day, panel-packed fan convention that took place in New York City over the weekend. It was an opportunity for thousands of attendees to walk into a space and not have to explain or defend their love of Bravo. It was a chance for strangers to bond and connect.

In other words, BravoCon was a wellness retreat.

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Bravo

That’s not to say there weren’t moments—several of which immediately went viral—that showcased the same wild behavior from fans that would typically be seen on The Real Housewives of New York. (We saw things that rivaled when Ramona Singer poops on the floor in Cartegena, Colombia, for example; or when Dorinda Medley screamed at people that she “makes it nice.”)

There was a running-of-the-bulls/stampede that delayed the Beverly Hills panel, as frantic event organizers told everyone without a seat to GTFO. We heard countless stories of people pushing each other to get prized photos with Housewives after hours-long waits, fighting over spots in lines. And yes, Real Housewives of Beverly Hills star/super-villain Lisa Rinna was booed when she walked onstage (she flipped the bird back at the crowd in return, which I guess was Lois' way of saying hi), while there were too many instances to count of intoxicated fans heckling talent on stage during panels.

For anyone familiar with Bravo, perhaps it’s unsurprising that drama and discord was so much a part of the event. Dynamic storytelling is key to what makes Bravo shows addictive. Conflict, and conflict resolution, draws people in; it’s a version of “life imitating art,” you could argue, to see attendees imitate that dynamic at BravoCon. (There was plenty of drama onstage, too: The Real Housewives of Salt Lake City panel felt like an hour-long reunion episode.)

But even with that, things felt different being among the Bravo community in person. Some Bravoholics are notorious for toxic trolling online. They often bully, harass, and attack the stars of their favorite shows, journalists and critics who write about them, and even other fans. In other words, they often ignore the key concept at the heart of Bravo storytelling: conflict resolution.

That’s where BravoCon proved to be a breath of fresh air. It provided a safer space than social media, where connection, including about differing opinions, was in abundant supply. (Bathrooms in the convention hall, less so.)

It was a place to celebrate the television network and its stars, who, over years of fandom, have become inextricable from their daily lives. The twists and turns of these shows are the backbone of real-life friendships. Deep diving, say, Below Deck, Summer House, or Beverly Hills, is a uniting factor, and it keeps people connected, even from afar. It can also provide escape and much-needed relief for those who are otherwise struggling. And it can present the opportunity to unpack complicated emotional dynamics and topics some may not otherwise publicly (or privately) discuss.

For many, including a fair amount of fans at BravoCon, these shows were what people watched as they battled or recovered from illness; what they turned to for comfort in times of grief; or what so many of us relied on to weather years of a traumatizing pandemic. People attended BravoCon with friends or family members, and sometimes in honor of those who they've lost. Others met strangers and felt they could, for the first time, bond with someone IRL on that shared level, with an intrinsic understanding of this pop-culture phenomenon they love.

It’s not a stretch, then, to think of this last weekend as an unorthodox—though effective—wellness retreat. I spoke with several attendees about their journeys of connection and self-discovery at BravoCon.

Sisters Taylor and Teonah traveled to the Javits Center, where the weekend’s events were held, from across the river in New Jersey. (Their favorite Housewives: Bethenny Frankel and Porsha Williams, respectively).

[Note: Several attendees preferred to be attributed by their first names only.]

Taylor noted the difference in how she discusses Housewives online (rarely), versus her willingness to invest in the highest premium ticket available to attend BravoCon. “I don’t want to be a keyboard gangster,” she said. “I don’t want to be arguing with people online. I’d rather engage with people like this: in person, having fun, talking, making it light. Sometimes, social media can be heavy. So you want to stay away from that space. You know everybody here wants to be here. We’re all here for the same reason.”

Brittany Johnson from Philadelphia (fave Housewife: Karen Huger; author’s note: #taste), decided to make the trip solo, because she knew she was going to be walking into a space with people with whom she already shared a deep connection. (As in, the Bravo connection. C’est bon, c’est bon.) “Any line I’ve been in, every panel I’ve been in—as cheesy as it is [to say], it really is a community,” she said. “Everyone’s just here to have a good time. The vibes are top-notch.”

Johnson compared the energy brought by attendees to those of sports fans. It’s a comparison several attendees made, and an interesting one. Sports-driven standom doesn’t typically face gendered questions around being a “guilty” pleasure, as those who love the women-driven content on Bravo often do.

At BravoCon, there was no question about whether or not one should scream when a Bravoleb suddenly appeared. Johnson compared the “bum rush of people” surrounding Andy Cohen’s appearance on the convention floor to “Elvis walking through.” It wasn’t a matter of staying quiet, but reaching a decibel so loud it could have shattered glass.

(Hillary Clinton’s presidential campaign held their 2016 Election Night party at the same venue, so the glass ceiling had stayed intact.)

“I’m not a sports watcher, and people give you a hard time and make fun of you [for watching Bravo],” Johnson said. “But this is our version of sports... You’re all in, from the premiere to the reunion. So I think it’s like that similar level of fandom.”

That extends to the eye-popping price tags for BravoCon passes, a seemingly exorbitant cost that was widely mocked—but isn’t much different from what someone would pay to attend a major sporting event. “People probably saved the way you would save to go to a playoff game,” Johnson said. “It might be their only or first time in NY, too. It’s pretty cool.”

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Bravo

Content creator Eliza, who is behind the Instagram account @FaceReality16 (fave Housewife: Heather Gay), was overwhelmed with the generosity she received from strangers at the event, which we talked about while in line before a panel. Someone she met earlier even gave her their extra VIP pass.

It was a big weekend for Eliza: She also got to ask Cohen a question during the Ask Andy panel. Asked what the whole experience meant to her, she teared up. “I have three kids, and it’s a lot,” she said. “Here, I got to meet people, and remember that I am fun. That I’m not just this homebody. It brought me back to life. I feel refreshed. I feel like I have a voice, and I should share it with people, and I should go out there more and talk to people. Because they like me, they really like me. I don’t usually get to do that. It was such a good opportunity to connect with people and feel good about myself.”

(Note to self: Ask my accountant to write off the costs of BravoCon as part of my newfound life coach gig.)

AJ Jaffari (fave Housewife is “a tie between Teresa [Giudice] and Kyle [Richards]”) traveled from San Jose, CA, and like Eliza and countless others, attended BravoCon by himself—an indicator of just how comfortable Bravo fans feel with each other. “I’m usually a little bit of a recluse,” he said. “I’ve just been so excited and surrounded by love the whole weekend.”

Content creator Lucy (fave Housewife: “Impossible; it’s like choosing a favorite child and it changes often”) came to BravoCon from Chicago, and noted the difference even just in the hall itself compared to getting around the city on the way there: “On the subway you don’t make eye contact with people, but at this, people would strike up a conversation with the person next to them and leave as friends.”

She attended the first BravoCon in 2019 by herself, but became so close to the people she met that weekend that many of them later went to her wedding. Now, they’re back at the second BravoCon together.

“Even going with people this year, I went alone to several panels just because we all had different interests,” she said. “Every panel I sat by myself at, the person next to me immediately started chatting with me. In a lot of situations, that doesn’t really happen, but here it did multiple times. I think we joke about this being mindless or trashy TV, but for a lot of people it’s a bright spot in their day, and a way to unwind. Being there with people who feel the same way I think made everyone feel comfortable with each other and open up more than they would in other situations.”

New York City resident Lynne (fave Housewife: Bethenny Frankel) attended BravoCon for the first time this year after missing 2019’s event for a wedding. She felt that BravoCon was the ultimate form of rejuvenation. (Not quite an O-shot from Dr. Jackie, but close.)

“I’ve been watching Bravo for 16 years,” she said. “My work life has always been insanely intense and stressful. At the end of a 12-hour work day, I just want to watch grown women argue over the proper seating arrangements at a birthday dinner. That is my self-care. BravoCon was that escapism, on steroids. If you can separate that these people are at the end of the day still actual humans, it was insanely therapeutic to get a glimpse of their lives and be surrounded by attendees who are just as immersed in this world as we are.”

Over the course of the weekend, I heard countless stories about strangers becoming friends, exchanging numbers, and making plans to see each other in the future. People talked about how affirming it was to feel seen by people who have the same interests and speak with the same vocabulary. They spoke with great emotion about what Bravo means to them, and the healing nature of BravoCon as a celebration and a communion. But there are two fan moments in particular that stood out to me.

One was a conversation with a Bravoholic from Toronto named Mohammad Alvi, who was in NYC for the first time, and came to BravoCon at the encouragement of his therapist and friends. His mother passed away in April of 2020, and he became the support system to his siblings.

“When that happened, I never really did anything for myself,” he said. “I went into depression. I lost my job. A lot of personal stuff happened.”

“It’s been so wild for my confidence."

He began therapy in September, and his therapist encouraged him to do something for himself. His friends knew he loved Bravo—“me and my mom used to watch The Real Housewives of Potomac together; shoutout to Gizelle!”—and urged him to splurge on a trip to BravoCon. Attending BravoCon was a real-time continuation of those bonding memories with his mother—and a chance to grow.

“It’s been so wild for my confidence,” he said. He admitted to, at first, suffering from what he described as an “immigrant mentality.” After spending so much money, he feared he wasn’t making the most of it or that it wasn’t worth it. “But then I changed my mindset. I waited almost 4 hours to see someone, and then I met some friends and made some connections. Then all of a sudden I’m asking a shady-ass question at the Potomac panel. I got pictures with Gizelle [Bryant] and Robyn [Dixon], which was my dream.”

He smiled: “It was worth it. For my own personal journey, it was worth it.”

As if that wasn’t heartwarming enough, there’s this moment I saw online. In the clip,

a fan posed for a photo with Real Housewives of Atlanta star Kenya Moore. As he quietly told her, “You make me happy when I’m sad,” she became visibly emotional. (As I did watching the video back home.)

It’s a feeling many held onto after BravoCon ended: one of gratitude. It provided an opportunity to thank Bravolebs for being so open with their lives. And to laugh, scream, and even cry. While the event was sometimes chaotic, so too is the experience of being a Bravo fan. Oftentimes, an intentional disconnection and dehumanization takes place on social media. That mask that was lifted at the event.

For three days, the Jacob K. Javits Convention Center became a place for Bravo fans to delight in their devoutness, with nary a shred of guilt to be found. It was the truest example of ownership and connection around a passion that has added meaning and value to their lives.

For many, BravoCon was as much about community as it was self-care. That’s the word on the street. BravoCon will emotionally fulfill you. Or, at least, that’s my opinion! And I’m engaging. With my friends, my soul mates, my sisters.

Turns out, Hunky Dory is us.

Now twirl!

(If you got all of those references, here’s $25,000 sunglasses from Dana/Pam. And once more, with feeling: I love you, Shan!)

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