TV Throwdown: Desperate Housewives Vs. Real Housewives

If you would have told me five years ago that I'd end up tuning into two different TV shows about housewives, I'd have replied, "There's a better chance of me baking a blueberry pie from scratch than that happening."

And I would have ended up eating my words -- and perhaps a (store-bought) blueberry pie. Now, here I am DVRing Desperate Housewives, and watching the shenanigans of Bravo's newest installment in its Real Housewives series: The Real Housewives of Atlanta.

And because I waste too many hours thinking about TV, I got to thinking: With which of these groups would I rather share a neighborhood?

So, I put them to the test in a personalized battle. The (dish) gloves are off!

NEIGHBORLINESS:

When DH Susan got new neighbors, Bob and Lee, she accidentally gifted them housewarming cookies to which Lee was allergic. To try and make up for it, she kidnapped their dog so that she could pretend to heroically find it -- and got caught. Susan also burned Edie's house down. Edie, meanwhile, has slept with at least three of her fellow housewives' exes. And we're just getting started -- these ladies are not like Ned Flanders.

On RH, the ladies do a lot of backbiting, but are generally kind and supportive of each other's causes in public. Kim has been trying to mend the rift between Sheree and NeNe. And when Sheree recently got sick, Kim brought her medicine and other illness supplies -- packaged in a Ferragamo bag. Even though that's totally ostentatious, nothing is better than hand-delivered Nyquil when you're feeling like crap.

Desperate, 0; Real, 1.

STAR POWER:

DH's Bree and Gabrielle have each had some fame. Bree has gained Martha Stewart-like status, and Gabi is an ex-model.

Lisa Wu-Hartwell of RH was previously married to Keith Sweat -- one of the greatest R&B artists of all time. Still, he's not in the picture anymore, and he's not technically a housewife himself.

Desperate, 1; Real, 1

'HOODS:

Granted, the RH crew don't all live in the same neighborhood. But the houses on Wisteria Lane seem like shanties compared to any of the RH cribs. So, if I were a neighbor to any of the RH, it's logical to assume I'd be filthy rich. Need I say more?

Desperate, 1; Real, 2.

ARGUMENTS:

For the most part, the RH make catty comments behind each other's backs, or out of the public eye. Well, except for the TV cameras. Based on last week's previews, Kim is fixin' to text message NeNe to call her a bitch.

But on DH, the majority of confrontations take place loudly, in broad daylight, usually in the middle of the street or a driveway. If you lived here, you really wouldn't even need a TV because the entertainment is right outside the door.

Desperate, 2; Real 2.

THE KID FACTOR:

We don't see a whole lot of the kids on RH unless they're being thrown ridiculously extravagant birthday parties, getting $1,000 checks, or taking private music lessons. And frankly, we don't want to see any more of them, because they're probably spoiled rotten brats.

On DH, Lynette's got a house full of hell raisers, Gabi's has bully-daughter, and Bree's son has blackmailed her. They are like older versions of the aforementioned offspring.

Tie!

Desperate, 2; Real, 2.

FASHION SENSE:

The beauty of having close female friends/neighbors is that there's the option of borrowing cute outfits when you're in a pinch.

The RH are probably more realistically-sized women than the size-0 squad of Wisteria Lane. Still, I'm not sure that any of the RH even wear a bra, or for that matter, own any outfits that don't display 15 pounds of breast flesh. (Did you see Kim's outfit for a children's birthday party?)

The DH would offer far more wardrobe variety. Between Bree's classically tailored look, Edie's sexpot outfits, Susan's casual style and Gabi's closet full of old designer dresses, you'd be pretty much set for any occasion. (But if you want to fit into them, you're going to have to say no to Bree's delicious desserts.)

And the winner is...

Desperate, 3; Real, 2.

Bottom line: Money can't buy everything.