Let’s be real: not all “rich kid” reality shows are created equal. Next Gen NYC strutted in with all the money, designer bags, and that Manhattan “we’re different” energy. But when you stack it against Rich Kids of the Hills? Baby, NYC comes off like a trust fund intern trying to buy relevance at a sample sale. The Hills kids may not always have taste, but they’ve got the one thing reality TV needs—mess that money can’t buy.
The Hills Serve Lifestyle and Meltdown
The beauty of Rich Kids of the Hills is that it’s not just about the cars, the vacations, and the $800 brunch tabs. It’s about the cracks in the couture. Money looks cute on Instagram, but behind the Maseratis are messy breakups, fake friendships, and “oops, daddy cut my allowance” panic attacks.
These kids argue over $17,000 bills like it’s Monopoly money, then try to split it like they’re Venmo’ing for pizza. Charlie literally leaned back in his Gucci slides and asked, “Can I pay half?” Sir, what in the Wells Fargo overdraft fee hell was that? You’re wearing a watch that costs more than my rent, but suddenly the bill got you sweating like you’re on Survivor.
Meanwhile in NYC… Snoozefest with Side Eye
Next Gen NYC had all the hype—new faces, new city, shiny penthouses—but somehow it felt broken from day one. They tried to make drama out of brunch cancellations and who didn’t RSVP to a gallery opening. That’s not scandal, that’s Tuesday in the group chat.
The energy just wasn’t giving. NYC wanted to be chic, polished, and “we’re the future of old money.” Cute for them. But when your biggest storyline is someone forgetting to text back, baby, you’re competing with TikTok comment sections. The Hills gave us chaos wrapped in Chanel. NYC gave us LinkedIn networking with champagne.
Why Hills Drama Hits Harder
-
Generational Wealth Tantrums: In the Hills, a “fight” isn’t about who sat next to who—it’s about inheritances, trust funds, and parents pulling the plug. That’s Shakespeare with Botox.
-
Fashion Crimes Worthy of Jail: One girl wore a $6,000 dress that looked like a bedazzled shower curtain. The group still fought over who copied who. NYC just… wore black. Cute, but boring.
-
Bills That Break Friendships: That infamous $17,000 dinner check? Hills kids will drag each other across the valet parking lot over it. In NYC, they just swipe daddy’s Amex and call it done.
-
Love Triangles With Receipts: In the Hills, if your boyfriend cheats, the other woman probably also has brunch with your cousin. Everyone knows everyone, and secrets spread faster than Botox appointments.
Charlie and the $17,000 Receipt
Let’s circle back to Charlie, because that moment deserves its own episode. Picture this: everyone sipping $300 cocktails, pretending they understand caviar. The check drops like a bomb. Charlie squints, flips the receipt, and asks if they can “split it in half.” Sir, you ordered the wagyu and the truffle pasta. You’re paying more than half, and you know it.
The table went quiet for 0.2 seconds before turning into an episode of Judge Judy. The Hills kids love each other—until the bill comes. Then it’s survival of the fittest, and someone’s crying in the Sprinter van on the way home.
Mess > Money
This is why the Hills reign supreme: mess sells more than money ever will. The viewers don’t care about your $12,000 chandelier if you’re not throwing it at someone in an argument. We want the tears, the betrayals, the “how dare you wear the same Balmain jacket as me” screaming matches.
NYC thought a backdrop of skyscrapers was enough. Sorry, babes. If you’re not flipping tables like Teresa Giudice or storming out of Nobu, then you’re just background noise in a city already drowning in influencers.
The Broken NYC Edit
To make it worse, the Next Gen NYC editing felt like it was begging us to care. “Look, they’re in SoHo! Look, they’re networking! Look, they’re wearing Thom Browne!” Honey, we don’t care about who RSVP’d to a launch party—we care about who stormed out of one. By episode three, you could tell production was trying to manufacture drama, but all we got was awkward brunches and fake smiles.
The Hills didn’t have to try. Mess just… happened. Like that time Tiffany got caught DM’ing her best friend’s ex, and instead of apologizing, she said, “Well, technically, we weren’t best friends that week.” Iconic.
The Gossip Factor
Let’s be shady:
- Hills gossip spreads like wildfire. One secret whispered at Erewhon is citywide tea by the weekend.
- NYC gossip? They try, but it feels like a PR email. Even their scandals have NDAs attached.
You can’t build a show on curated chaos. We want the raw, unfiltered pettiness, the kind that makes you text your bestie, “Did you SEE that?” And the Hills? They deliver.
The Verdict
So which show is better? Easy. Rich Kids of the Hills is the heir to the reality throne, while Next Gen NYC is the intern fetching coffee. The Hills kids may be messy, spoiled, and ridiculous, but they’re entertaining. And when it comes to reality TV, that’s the only currency that matters.
NYC will give you a clean apartment tour. The Hills will give you a crying, drunk, glitter-smeared face yelling “I don’t even LIKE you!” at a pool party. Tell me which one you’re tuning in for.
Final Sip of Tea
At the end of the day, money might buy you a penthouse, but it doesn’t buy you personality. And the Hills kids? They’ve got enough personality, pettiness, and platinum cards to keep us fed for seasons. Meanwhile, NYC is still trying to figure out how to turn shade into storylines.
So, to the Hills kids: keep fighting over checks, keep crying in couture, keep being the hot mess we need. Because without you, reality TV would just be… another boring brunch in Manhattan.
