Oy, y'all.

What was a guilty pleasure in California and New York has become a license for misogyny in the exurbs of Georgia.

Even the title, The Real Housewives of Atlanta, is a lie. There's precious little real on these five stars, from their extensions to their spherical, bra-optional D-cups. Only one is a housewife, in the sense of not having a job and having a husband. And as for Atlanta - well, if any of them lives within the city limits, I'll hand-write a letter of apology.

For the first time, we get four women of color, but it's a depressing portrait of diversity - at least three of them came into their money by marrying professional athletes. Surely there are some wealthy black women in Atlanta with businessman husbands and a little good taste? Buy the Dolce shoes, but cover up those breasts!

It's an odd moment to debut the most materialistic of the trilogy, which is about nothing so much as spending, shopping and sniping. In "these trying economic times" (I now have that phrase on a cut-and-paste clipboard), beautiful women living glittering lives could provide a welcome escape. Tacky women with bad taste, though, just inspire exponential bitterness after a few moments of thinking, "You know, if I had that kind of money, I'd probably buy a restored Karmann-Ghia instead of the loaded Escalade."

But enough of my fantasy life: Meet the Real (ahem) Housewives (sorta) of (outer) Atlanta.

* Lisa Wu Hartwell: In a lopsided competition, Lisa is the winner of hearts. Half-Chinese and half-black, she's all beautiful, but more important, she seems to actually have a brain on her shoulders and a good man, NFL player Ed Hartwell. When she gets sick, he makes her chicken soup from scratch. Lisa's a real estate entrepreneur, and what's most likable is that she admits that her business is dependent on Ed's connections. The strike against her: There's a bowling alley in their basement. Why do rich people love installing a game that poor people play because they're poor?

* DeShawn Snow: She's rich, she's spoiled and she hires a full staff, including a cook and an estate manager. But her husband, Cleveland Cavaliers captain Eric Snow, is on the road six days a week, and if I were rich and raising two kids mostly alone, I'd spend my money on a staff, too. She runs a nonprofit foundation for teenage girls. She treats "the help" decently. She also lives in a 15,000-square-foot house, which just sounds like a lot more exercise than anyone should get grabbing some microwave popcorn at midnight.

* Kim Zolciak: She has an orange face and yellow hair, proclaims, "I'm a black woman trapped in a white woman's body," and is using spray tan to make it happen. I hate her, and not in the fun way where you watch a show every week to hate someone. There's a mystery man in her life named Big Papa who buys her a $70,000 car after a three-minute phone call and doesn't want to be seen onscreen. His wife probably doesn't want that either. Kim has two daughters. The 11-year-old receives an $18,000 birthday party featuring a sleepover at the Intercontinental, where Mom gets massages and nags the birthday girl for not acting happy enough. Kim is from Connecticut, which I always thought was a classy state.

* Sheree Whitfield: Like several of the housewives, Sheree is starting a clothing line. She's in the middle of a messy divorce from an NFL star (natch) and hired Evander Holyfield's daughter, Evette, as a personal assistant, which involves making phone calls while Sheree sits on the couch next to her. For her birthday party, she orders a cake to match her Louis Vuitton purse but doesn't bother to greet her guests. She has a "shoe stylist" come to the house. Every one of these women has a stylist of some sort, known in other circles as the "gay best friend." It seems that in Atlanta, you pay for that service.

* Nene Leakes: Apparently, it's a law that black women not be depicted on reality TV unless at least one of them is waving her finger in someone's face. Nene offers a bonus, talking about being a strict disciplinarian while wearing a dress her grown kids could nurse from without so much as adjusting a strap. She's an embarrassment to her son during a college tour. When Nene gets left off the list at Sheree's birthday party and is escorted from the premises, she rises to the occasion by cussing a blue streak. Later, she has trouble processing Sheree's remorse: "She said 'I apologize,' but she didn't say 'I'm sorry.' "

Nene, I'd like to say I'm sorry. I also apologize. Mostly, though, I change the channel.

The Real Housewives of Atlanta

* 8 p.m. Tuesdays on Bravo