Has there ever been a cultural storm quite as perfect as “Scandoval?”
For those not part of the “Vanderpump Rules” reality TV fandom, on March 3, TMZ reported that two cast members and romantic partners of nearly a decade, Ariana Madix and Tom Sandoval, had broken up. The reason? Sandoval’s monthslong affair with fellow cast member, and Madix’s close friend, Raquel (or is it Rachel?) Leviss.
A TikTok user summed up the weight of this scandal in “Friends” terms: “Imagine if Chandler cheated on Monica with Rachel secretly for 7 months and Joey knew all along.”
Hyperbole? Hardly. Indeed, it’s hard to undersell the pop culture explosion that has been the past few days. Madix deactivated her Instagram. Current and former “Vanderpump” cast members weighed in with their support of Madix — and promised the verbal destruction of Sandoval and Leviss at the next season reunion. The cameras started rolling again as producers scrambled to squeeze in an extra episode. There were even reports of a physical altercation between Leviss and another cast member, Schenana Shay.
Meanwhile, fans flooded Sandoval’s bar, Schwartz & Sandy’s, with negative reviews on Yelp. And Sandoval posted not one but two rather ham-fisted notes app apologies on Instagram. (Only the second one mentioned Madix.) Leviss soon followed suit. People Magazine reports Leviss may have even filed a restraining order against Shay.
Major publications like New York magazine and The New York Times published in-depth explainers on the whole sordid affair. But I knew the story had truly crossed over into mainstream cultural consciousness when I got a text from my boyfriend, the person in my life who is least likely to care about anything reality-TV related, on Tuesday afternoon: “What are your thoughts on Rachel from ‘Vanderpump’ or the Scandoval?”
It turns out I do have thoughts — less about the news itself and more about why it has become such a thing. After all, people cheat all the time. Reality television is defined by its ability to stoke mess and capitalize on interpersonal drama. So what is it about Scandoval that has piqued such widespread, fevered public interest?
The answer is threefold: the vast amount of information available, the relatively simplistic morality of this particular scandal, and the ways in which cultural consumers use reality television to adjudicate our own moral codes — specifically when it comes to relationships.
Tom Sandoval has been on “Vanderpump Rules” since its first episode aired on Jan. 7, 2013 — at the time it was just a little “Real Housewives” spinoff about a group of young adult strivers working hard at Beverly Hills Housewife Lisa Vanderpump’s SUR restaurant, and playing much harder. At the time, Sandoval was in a tumultuous on-and-off relationship with fellow SUR employee Kristen Doute; Madix was a guest star. By the end of season 2, Madix and Sandoval confirmed they were dating, and Madix was promoted to series regular for season 3. Leviss didn’t join the show until season 5, when she began dating Doute’s other ex, DJ James Kennedy.
There’s a lot of history here — and much of it is on tape.
“This story feels like something that is happening to people you knew from high school, and you’re watching it over Instagram and hearing about it in group chats,” Sami Sage, COO and co-founder of Betches, told me when we hopped on the phone on Wednesday. (You can read her magnum opus on Scandoval here.) “But in this case, there’s years of footage that we can go through to look at the relationships.”
For years, Sandoval’s public image — and bank account — have benefited from Madix’s reputation.
Like the time Sandoval reportedly told Madix he and Doute had broken up when they hadn’t. Or when Sandoval spent upwards of $10,000 to help Kennedy plan a lavish proposal to Leviss in 2021. “I’m getting off on this, it’s so fun,” Sandoval told the cameras. Or this incredible, NSFW clip in which Sandoval defiantly tells friend Jax Taylor he’d never stab a friend in the back.
For years, Sandoval’s public image — and bank account — have benefited from Madix’s reputation (see their shared cocktail book). On a show full of people who consistently behave badly, Madix always seemed different. She spoke openly about things that mattered: her body image struggles and history of disordered eating; her fluid sexual identity; her ambivalence about marriage and kids. And while she is indeed a reality TV star, with a set of spicy clapbacks in her arsenal, she never felt like a mean girl or a bully.
If a woman as cool as Madix was in a long-term, happy relationship with Sandoval, then he must be all right. And no one was more loyal than Madix. She was never a pushover, but she always stood up for her partner. All of which makes Sandoval’s alleged affair — with Madix’s close friend — even more offensive.
Sage and I agreed that reality television often functions for its predominantly female audience in the same way that sports can function for men. “The way men have used sports as a simulacrum for war, women are using reality TV to do that in relationships,” she told me. “It gives us a window to see the way other people view a social code or how you would act.” As someone who has covered “The Bachelor” franchise for nearly a decade, and writes about Netflix dating shows like “Love Is Blind” and “The Ultimatum,” I have seen the way that viewers use reality television to work out their own feelings about how people should act within romantic relationships. The social codes aren’t always clear; we see different things. Was that argument gaslighting? Is someone being emotionally closed off, or just decisive? How early should sexual exclusivity be demanded? The sticky, heated debates that arise over these questions can help clarify and inform social and cultural standards and mores. But when it comes to Scandoval, there’s no debate. Sandoval and Leviss behaved very badly and hurt someone that they both purported to love deeply. As former “Vanderpump” star Jax Taylor put it: “There is no ‘teams’; it’s just her. Who would have his side?” And this moral clarity, in turn, makes consuming media about the scandal even more satisfying. “I think the details actually do them fewer favors,” said Sage. “It’s this dopamine drip of ‘I’m right, I’m right’ — feeling righteous because of how obvious the answer is. Every time you learn a new detail, you get to feel satisfied again because you’re confirming that you understand this code that you’re learning through reality TV.” And the (alleged) details just keep coming: Sandoval and Leviss may have been wearing matching lightning bolt necklaces. They might be in love. Sandoval dressed up as Leviss for Halloween, after their clandestine relationship had already started. Madix allegedly discovered the affair because Sandoval’s phone fell out of his pocket while he was performing with his band, and a friend handed it to Madix, who was there to cheer on her partner. Dopamine drip, indeed. We’re right. We’re right. We’re right. Whether or not we need a #TeamAriana, she’s the number one girl in this group. Now I’m off to catch up on “Vanderpump Rules” and buy some merch from Madix and Maloney’s sandwich shop.
Emma Gray
Emma Gray, a freelance journalist focused on the intersection of gender, culture and politics, is the author of "A Girl's Guide to Joining the Resistance." She is a co-host of the podcast “Love to See It” and a co-author of the newsletter “Rich Text,” and she has spent the last 10 years as a senior reporter and editor at HuffPost. 
