The gulf between the trivial and the tragic is growing on the Real Housewives of D.C.One minute the Salahis hire a white stretch-limo to browse for houses they likely can’t afford, and the next minute they’re fending off a civil suit.

Cat struggles to deal with the shocking suicide of a close friend, and Mary just can’t keep her 23-year-old daughter Lolly out of the closet.

We can’t help but think that the sheer amount of delusion and frivolity in D.C. must make it hard for some of these women to tell the difference. Since CultureMap takes an in-depth look at fashion this month, we’d like to start with Mary’s closet.

In her neutral, I-bought-this-entire-look-from-Restoration-Hardware-home, Mary has a maze-like closet that seems larger than our entire condo.

“I purposely made it a place where I could hang out,” she explains in a voiceover as the camera pans her perfectly organized gowns, shoes, handbags and yes, fresh-cut flowers. Her “haven” looks and feels more like a museum, or the kind of austere store where there’s only one of each item and no one is ever allowed to touch anything. This isn’t the first episode where we’ve heard about the biometric lock on the door, which yields only to Mary’s ice-cold fingerprint.

For whatever reason, Mary seems to “forget” to close up now and then, at which point light-fingered Lolly trespasses and helps herself to mom’s wardrobe and accessories. How cat-and-mouse!

Mary’s glad to lend her clothes to Lolly, of course, something she says only a few hundred times during this episode. But that wouldn’t be any fun, would it, Mary?

Lolly likes stealing your clothes, and you seem to really get off on “catching” her dressed in your things. During an intimate kitchen wine-guzzling session with Cat, Mary admits that she’s been in therapy for seven years exploring this issue. Later, Cat suggests a refund from the therapist and a new lock. Oh, Cat, it is possible to be too sensible.

While it’s hard to understand the mysterious appeal of Mary’s luxurious closet, Lynda’s sons and Ebong look irresistible as they suit up for the Men Against Breast Cancer gala and fashion show. Cat and Mary tag along, and yet again the trivial and the tragic collide. Mary hoots and hollers at the models like she’s at a Chippendale’s revue. Suddenly, she notices Lolly wearing her clothes and flies into a rage. Uh-oh, Mary, better call your therapist.

Cat laughs at the petty drama of it all, but her mind is elsewhere until Lynda’s ex-boyfriend Chris appears in a pinstripe suit and a smart cravat. Cat bursts into tears. Her friend Phil, who recently took his own life, wore them all the time. Later at home, Cat’s daughters are a huge comfort as she explains her decision not to attend his funeral.

What a relief to see Cat emotionally open with her daughters without using them as counselors, life coaches, or free sources of endless affirmation, like the other housewives often do. Last week we were won over by her surprisingly strong ethical sense. This week she shares fears of being a terrible mother and then proves she isn’t by being honest with her kids about the difficulty of grief. Cat’s become our favorite character.

And if anyone else on the show is willing to be this real, please show yourself now.

Sweet and sincere Stacie is helping the nouvelle-dull Tareq and Michaele look at digs in D.C. She’s wary of the duo after their recent party disaster, but Stacie isn’t so noble as to turn down a potentially big, easy commission. She visits the crazy-eyed couple in their multi-level suite at The Four Seasons, their “home away from home” as they call it.

But when the conversation turns to real dollars, Stacie has a hard time getting a straight answer out of the shifty pair. Michaele says their dream home could come in at $100,000 or even $12 million. Tareq looks at the floor nervously and caps it off at $8 million. Later, as they cruise around D.C. in a white stretch-limo looking at potential homes, Stacie tries to put the "real" in real estate, explaining that they’ll need to get pre-approved before she can actually take them inside any of the properties.

Michaele has her eye on what looks like a 50-room private school, which Stacie estimates at $20-25 million. Darn, it isn’t on the market!

Later, Michaele and Tareq arrive at their winery to celebrate “over-the-top” design plans for massive renovations. What triumphs await!

Tareq exits their modest SUV (so much for the stretch-limo) near the scruffy edge of the road to straighten a dumpy-looking barrel with “Oasis” written in crude, fading white paint. Next to it, a sad stone lion has seen one too many coats of sunny-yellow paint followed by rain. To us, it’s looking more like The Grapes of Wrath than the Dordogne. The Bravo editors splice together a haunting montage: shriveled grapes, rotting boards, dead leaves, and cheap white plastic chairs.

Like the return of the repressed, Tareq’s mother Corrine rains on the Salahis parade without even putting in an appearance. She’s called the sheriff to have them removed from the property. As Tareq tries to handle the officers and vans and dogs, Michaele’s perfect Stepford-smile cracks, and she sobs.

It’s her Blanche Dubois moment in the harsh light of reality, and we’re not sure she can take it.