The Iconic Babies of Bling Empire

Rounding out this cast are the most intelligent and least intelligent (no offense) characters, both of whom are also the most compelling. Kevin Kreider is a tall and very hot model, with the heart and soul of a well-intentioned golden retriever, cast as the fish out of water. (As he is not disgustingly wealthy, technically, he is.) Anna Shay, the only person on this program with a shred of intelligence and common sense, has never known financial hardship because her father, Edward Shay, was the founder of Pacific Architects and Engineers, a private defense contractor. Her mother, Ai-San Shay, exported pearls and silk flowers from Japan. When Anna’s father died, she and her brother inherited the family business and sold it for $1.2 billion to Lockheed Martin, all in cash. She’s worth more money than most people will ever touch, and is eccentric in the way very rich people who have never known struggle are. Her hair is appalling, she accessorizes ill-fitting jeans with enormous diamond necklaces, and she rides a Segway around Beverly Hills with her “French best friend,” Florent. She is Yubaba from Spirited Away, airlifted out of the bathhouse for dirty spirits and into an enormous, possibly-haunted, Spanish-style mansion in Beverly Hills. If I cannot be one of the iconic babies that we are about to meet, then I would like to be Anna Shay.

Other reality shows, like the earlier seasons of Real Housewives of New Jersey, focus heavily on family as a plot point, but on Bling Empire, everyone is very concerned with parentage. Baby G, the bouncing, chunky toddler belonging to Dr. Chiu and his wife, Christine, is the “heir” that Dr. Chiu’s parents were so insistent Christine produce. Dr. Chiu is a direct descendant of the Song dynasty, and so if dynasties were still real, their handsome little man would be next in line to rule. Dynasties are no longer real, and so this immense pressure does not weigh on the small head of Baby G. Bringing Baby G into the world was no easy feat, but the fertility issues that plagued Christine and her husband were placed squarely on her shoulders—even though it was due to her husband’s “health issues” and not hers. Watching her break down in tears as she admits lying for her husband to save face for her in-laws is the realest part of the show. It also contextualizes Baby G’s first birthday party, which is, according to Anna Shay, a “bit contrived.”

Baby G is iconic because his parents are rich enough to literally sponsor an orphan in China for every guest attending their Lunar New Year Party, in lieu of the traditional goody-bag gifts of Baccarat crystal paperweights. He’s also an icon because even though he was forced to appear on camera in a video shot by his parents asking his grandparents if it was okay for them to use a surrogate to carry either Margaux or London (the two Chiu embryos on ice), he still comes out on top, narrowly escaping the fate of being forced to surrender the spotlight to a sibling.

The other babies on this show, Jadore, Cherie’s toddler, and Jevon, whose birth is captured in startling high-definition, are also quite special. Jadore, who deserves more screen time than she got, has my sympathy. “Jadore didn’t get a newborn photoshoot,” her mother Cherie explains, as helpers load in props to their home in preparation for Jevon’s. However, I beg to differ: I don’t know what a full newborn photoshoot really entails, but this picture of Jadore wearing a Chanel headdress seems like something to me.

Never mind that it is lying on the ground instead of hung in a place of pride. That’s Cherie’s issue, and I won’t meddle. Jevon’s newborn photoshoot is a full-on affair, with the little angel wrapped in various fabrics like a loaf of bread, and tucked into baskets. Nothing will ever top this look, which features Jevon surrounded by red envelopes for good luck, looking as if he has finally found peace, even though he’s been alive for maybe a month, max.

At some point during the show, Cherie spends time with Tyler Henry, the Hollywood Medium, who confirms Cherie’s theory that maybe Jevon is the reincarnation of her mother, who died before the show went to air. While watching Tyler Henry do what he does, which is scribble on a notepad and make vague predictions that prey on people’s grief, I felt for Cherie. Jessey, her boyfriend, is wishy-washy on proposing, and seems content to exist without putting an actual ring on her finger. That is all she wants! Though this is neatly resolved at the end of the series, setting up for a second season that I would like sooner rather than later, Cherie’s sadness makes me feel sad for no real reason other than it’s been a long, tough year. Reincarnation as a concept and as a practice is iconic. If Jevon, her small bao of a baby, is the vessel for her mother’s spirit, then he is the past, present, and future. What could be more iconic than that?