The thrills of the "Real Housewives" series on Bravo have little to do with geography. Women of arriviste position and little self-regard are capable of internecine warfare regardless of whether they live in New York, Atlanta or Orange County. Outburst-inclined women: Move freely! Peers and cameras await you wherever you may roam.
Except, perhaps, in Louisville, Ky., where tongues are bitten and hostility sublimated into unhealthy romances. At least, so it is on "Southern Belles: Louisville" (Soapnet, 10 p.m. Thursday), a soft-focus show in the "Real Housewives" mold that nevertheless treats its stars -- Shea, Emily, Julie, Kellie and Hadley -- more like the fetish objects of "The Hills" than the demolition-derby vehicles of the "Real Housewives" series.
In Louisville, putting on airs is exercise, though in the case of "Southern Belles," it might not matter: Whatever drama there is among the show's five women is minor and therefore feels genuine, not contrived. Little quibbles get swallowed whole, hidden behind broad smiles.
The queen of grinning and bearing is Shea, the daughter of a wealthy doctor with eyes on a life in Louisville society. Her self-destructive impulse cannot be discounted, though: She's engaged to Jeff, a slightly schlubby lawyer who struggles with their class difference. When shopping in a fancy store, she warns him, "Do not break anything in this store!"
When Shea speaks about getting engaged, she does so to anyone within earshot and with eyes bulged. When Jeff talks about it, it's only to the camera and only with extreme hesitation. "When am I gonna put a ring on her finger?" he muses. "When I can afford one that she would be willing to wear."
Shea's nemesis, as these things go, is Emily, who by midseason (this week's episode is the eighth of 10) has already fled her overbearing, moralistic parents for a job hosting an online entertainment show in Las Vegas. ("You are a father's nightmare," her father tells her.) When Shea gathers the group (sans Julie -- more on that later) to break the news about her engagement, Emily would rather discuss her new haircut, which, in fairness, is about equally tragic. (In one episode, she hires an image consultant to help spiff up her wardrobe and cries at what she's told, physically rebuffing the offer of a hug before running out of the room.)
