Honestly, if you weren't watching Bravo back in 2010, you missed one of the most chaotic experiments in the history of "structured reality." It was called The A List New York. At the time, the network was trying to strike gold twice by replicating the Real Housewives formula but with a cast of high-society gay men in Manhattan. It didn't just ruffle feathers; it basically plucked the whole bird.
People called it the "Gay Housewives." That was the pitch. But the show was so much more—and arguably so much worse—than that simple label. It arrived during a very specific window in American culture where being "out" on television was transitioning from a "very special episode" trope to a "let's watch these people throw wine at each other" trope.
What The A List New York Got Wrong (And Right)
Most viewers tuned in expecting a sophisticated look at the Manhattan elite. Instead, they got Reichen Lehmkuhl, an Amazing Race winner and former boyfriend of Lance Bass, trying to navigate a relationship with a guy named Rodiney Santiago while a photographer named Austin Armacost hovered around like a chaotic lightning bolt.
It was messy.
The show relied heavily on the "A-List" branding, but the central tension was always whether these guys were actually on any list at all. New York City is a brutal character. It doesn't give you status just because you have a gym membership and a publicist. The cast included people like Derek Lloyd Saathoff, a casting director, and TJ Kelly, who was basically the Greek chorus of the group.
The show's biggest flaw—or its greatest strength, depending on how much you love trashy TV—was its insistence on manufactured drama that felt about as organic as a polyester blend shirt. You had these incredibly high-stakes arguments over things like who was invited to a Hamptons party or who was "famous" enough to be in the room. It was peak early-2010s vanity.
The Reichen and Rodiney Dynamic
You can't talk about The A List New York without talking about the central couple. Reichen Lehmkuhl was arguably the biggest "get" for the show. He had mainstream name recognition. Rodiney was a Brazilian model who often felt like he was being edited into the role of the "long-suffering partner."
Their relationship was the spine of the first season. It gave the show a sense of serial drama, but it also exposed the cracks in the reality TV artifice. Every time they had a conversation, it felt like they were aware of the three cameras and the boom mic hovering just out of frame.
💡 You might also like: How to Watch The Wolf and the Lion Without Getting Lost in the Wild
Then there was Austin.
Austin Armacost was the villain every reality show needs. He was younger, louder, and seemingly uninterested in the social mores of the older New York gay scene. He clashed with everyone. He was the one who brought the "housewife" energy—the person willing to say the quiet part out loud just to see the reaction. He eventually moved to the UK and did Celebrity Big Brother, proving that his brand of televised friction had international legs.
The Backlash Nobody Saw Coming
You’d think a show featuring an all-gay cast would be celebrated by the LGBTQ+ community. It wasn't. Not really. In fact, The A List New York faced intense criticism from the very people it was supposed to represent.
The New York Times and various queer media outlets like The Advocate and Logo (which actually aired the show) were filled with op-eds about how the show set the movement back. People hated the stereotypes. They hated the focus on body image, wealth, and vapidity. There was a genuine fear that straight audiences would see these six men and assume every gay man in New York was a gym-obsessed, status-seeking narcissist.
But here’s the thing: reality TV isn't supposed to be a documentary of the "best" of us. It’s a funhouse mirror.
If we allow The Real Housewives of Orange County to be shallow, why couldn't the guys of The A List New York be shallow too? This was a major point of contention in the early 2010s. The "respectability politics" of the era were suffocating. The show’s creator, David Perler, who also worked on The Wendy Williams Show, knew exactly what he was doing. He wasn't making a PBS special. He was making "The A List."
Why it fizzled out after two seasons
The show didn't last. By the time the second season wrapped in 2011, the novelty had worn off. A spin-off, The A List: Dallas, was attempted, but it lacked the specific bite of the Manhattan version.
📖 Related: Is Lincoln Lawyer Coming Back? Mickey Haller's Next Move Explained
The problem was that the "A-List" world it portrayed was too small. In a city of 8 million people, watching the same five guys argue at the same three bars in Chelsea started to feel claustrophobic. Also, the cast started to feel like they were playing characters of themselves. When a reality star starts thinking about their "brand" more than their actual life, the show dies.
The Digital Afterlife of the Cast
Where are they now? It’s the question everyone asks about these niche celebrities.
- Austin Armacost: He became a massive reality star in the UK. He’s been open about his life since the show, and honestly, he’s probably the most successful "export" of the series.
- Reichen Lehmkuhl: He shifted away from the spotlight to focus on various business ventures, including jewelry lines and acting. He’s largely stayed out of the reality TV meat grinder since.
- Rodiney Santiago: He continued his modeling career and has a significant following on social media, often sharing fitness and lifestyle content. He’s aged incredibly well, much to the chagrin of his former castmates, I'm sure.
- Derek Saathoff: He’s stayed in the mix in New York, still working in the world of casting and aesthetics.
The show remains a time capsule. You look at the fashion—the deep V-neck shirts, the overly manicured eyebrows, the Blackberry phones—and it feels like a hundred years ago. But the DNA of The A List New York is visible in shows like Fire Island or even the later seasons of Queer Eye, albeit with a much more "wholesome" coat of paint.
The "A-List" Mythos
The word "A-List" in the title was always a bit of a wink. In New York, the actual A-list consists of billionaires, Anna Wintour, and people who own buildings on 5th Avenue. The cast of this show were B-list or C-list regulars at the local clubs.
But that’s the charm of it.
The show captured a specific type of New York hustle. The "fake it 'til you make it" energy that defines the city's nightlife. They were trying to convince the audience—and maybe themselves—that they were the center of the universe. And for two years, on Monday nights, they kind of were.
Lessons from the A-List Era
Looking back, the show was a pioneer in "gay-focused" ensemble reality. Before RuPaul’s Drag Race became a global juggernaut and before Legendary or The Real Friends of WeHo, there was this.
👉 See also: Tim Dillon: I'm Your Mother Explained (Simply)
It taught networks that there was a hungry audience for queer stories that weren't centered on trauma or "coming out." Even if the stories were about something as trivial as a stolen guest list or a bad photo shoot, there was value in seeing gay men just... being messy.
The show's failure to sustain itself wasn't because the audience didn't want to see gay men; it was because the show didn't evolve. It stayed stuck in that 2010 loop of manufactured conflict. Today's audiences want a bit more "reality" in their reality TV. We want to see the struggle, not just the champagne.
How to Revisit the Drama Today
If you're feeling nostalgic for the era of low-rise jeans and Chelsea nightlife, you can still find the show's footprint online.
- Streaming: Check platforms like Amazon Prime or iTunes. While it's not always on the front page of Netflix, it often pops up on ad-supported services like Tubi or Pluto TV.
- The Austin Armacost Path: If you want to see the "evolution" of a reality villain, track down his seasons of Celebrity Big Brother UK. It’s a masterclass in how to pivot from a niche US show to a mainstream international career.
- Social Media Deep Dives: Most of the cast is still active on Instagram. Following them now provides a fascinating contrast to the "characters" they played fifteen years ago.
The legacy of The A List New York isn't that it was "good" television. It's that it was the first of its kind to fail and succeed in such a loud, public way. It paved the way for every queer ensemble show that followed, proving that the A-list is less about who you know and more about who is watching you.
Your Next Steps
If you're looking to dive into the history of reality TV, your next move should be exploring the production history of Logo TV. Understanding how that network transitioned from an LGBT-centric indie channel to a broader entertainment hub explains exactly why a show like this was greenlit—and why it eventually disappeared. Look into the early seasons of RuPaul's Drag Race, which aired alongside the A-List, to see how one show captured the zeitgeist while the other became a cult relic.