From ‘Housewives' overload to the ‘shadiest queens' alliance: The dish on ‘The Traitors' Season 4 lineup
Welcome to Reality Derby, Gold Derby's weekly deep dive into all things reality TV, hosted by senior editors Marcus James Dixon and Denton Davidson. Watch the video above.
The cast of The Traitors Season 4 was unveiled on Friday, with a whopping 23 reality TV stars and notable figures about to compete for up to $250K. Among the roster are some of our favorite former gamers from Survivor and Big Brother, a pair of sassy Olympic figure skaters, and a whopping five women from The Real Housewives.
More from GoldDerby
'The Americas' producers on NBC's ambitious docuseries, Earth's most varied landscapes, and 'absolute joy' working with Tom Hanks
Inside the comedy pressure cooker: How 'SNL50: Beyond Saturday Night' exposed the madness behind the magic of 'Saturday Night Live'
'The Traitors' Season 4 casts a different Rob from 'Survivor,' a K-pop star, and Taylor Swift's potential future mother-in-law
"I do feel like this is a little Real Housewives heavy," Davidson declares. "It's just not a show that I follow. And I understand the fan base is massive. So, the fact that they keep inviting more and more back, it clearly means that it's doing well for them. It's just not my wheelhouse. And they don't know how to play the game!"
Says Dixon, "I really think that one of the Housewives are going to be a Traitor this year, because we did not get one last year in Season 3. In Season 2, we had Phaedra Parks, one of the best Traitors ever." The Housewives in this cycle are Dorinda Medley (returning from Season 2), Candiace Dillard Bassett, Caroline Stanbury, Lisa Rinna, and Porsha Williams.
They both openly wonder if returning contestant Dorinda might be a Traitor this time around, since she was a Faithful last year. "If I was there, I would immediately target her again," laughs Davidson. "Poor Dorinda! Because they're going to think, 'Of course, she's coming back as a Traitor.'"for Churchill Downs
When Davidson initially saw the cast list, he felt "meh," until he noticed Olympic figure skaters Tara Lipinski and Johnny Weir in the lineup. He explains, "These are two people I didn't expect to be on a reality TV show — not because they don't have the personality, but because it just wasn't on my radar. Tara Lipinski was an Olympic gold medalist, and Johnny Weir is a very eccentric male figure skater, and they are two of the shadiest queens that do the commentary for the Winter Olympics. They're like every bestie pairing you would see in West Hollywood ... and it's going to be hilarious if one of them is actually a Traitor."
Survivor star Rob Cesternino being cast on The Traitors is a big "F you" to the long-running CBS reality TV show, Dixon says. "He was in the running for Survivor 50, and I guess at the last moment he didn't get the call. And so The Traitors swoops in two weeks later, and they're like, 'OK, we want you in the castle.'" In other words, Survivor's "loss" is The Traitors' "gain."
Other competition gamers about to go for the gold in Scotland include Yamil "Yam Yam" Arocho from Survivor, Natalie Anderson (without her twin sister, Nadiya Anderson) from The Amazing Race and Survivor, and Ian Terry and Tiffany Mitchell from Big Brother.
"It's been a long time since we've seen [Ian]," Davidson realizes. "It'll be interesting to see what he's like now at age 34. He was so young when he was on Big Brother a thousand years ago."
Tiffany was "the creator of the Cookout" and "America's Favorite Houseguest" on Big Brother, so "people love her," remembers Dixon. "I loved that whole season of Big Brother 23. I think it's the best season they've ever done, so I can't wait to see her. She's got a little villainous side."
Dixon wonders if Carolyn Wiger "had any sway" in getting her Survivor 44 buddy, Yam Yam, onto The Traitors, since she was so popular in the castle last year. Just like Rob, Carolyn was in the running for Survivor 50, but she was ultimately cut, possibly because of her time on the rival series. "Jeff Probst is very jealous and protective, and does not like it when his Survivors are on The Traitors," Davidson warns.
They also discuss the hot topic of Donna Kelce, the mother of NFL bros Travis and Jason Kelce, and whether Travis' girlfriend, Taylor Swift, might be posting about The Traitors this year. "You know she's going to watch," Davidson smiles. "She probably already does. I mean, I'm sure Donna had an advisor and got some advice from from Taylor and her kids, or at least spoke to them about it, so it'll be interesting to see their take."
Season 4 of The Traitors is expected to air in early 2026, as the first three seasons all began in January. The show has already been picked up for a fifth season.
Peacock
SIGN UP for Gold Derby's free newsletter with latest predictions
Best of GoldDerby
Asif Ali and Saagar Shaikh admit they 'never had the audacity to realize' a show like 'Deli Boys' was possible
Leslie Bibb breaks down her aha moments filming 'The White Lotus': 'Kate suddenly got jealous'
'Agatha All Along' star Ali Ahn: Getting Patti LuPone's approval while singing was 'like I had died and gone to heaven'
Click here to read the full article.
Hashtags

Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles


Business Upturn
3 hours ago
- Business Upturn
Is ‘The Traitors' returning for season 4? Everything we know so far
By Aman Shukla Published on June 23, 2025, 19:57 IST The U.S. version of this reality TV gem has us all hooked with its mix of sneaky strategy and nail-biting drama. So, the big question on everyone's mind: is The Traitors Season 4 actually happening? We've dug into all the details floating around, from official announcements to fan chatter, to bring you everything we know so far about Season 4—renewal news, possible premiere dates and more. Has The Traitors Season 4 Been Greenlit? Great news— The Traitors Season 4 is definitely happening! Back in August 2024, Peacock dropped the bombshell that they've greenlit not just Season 4 but also a fifth season. Talk about a win for fans! The show's been a massive hit, even snagging Emmys for Outstanding Reality Competition Program and Outstanding Host for the one-and-only Alan Cumming. When Can We Expect Season 4 to Drop? Peacock hasn't spilt the beans on an exact premiere date yet, but let's play detective with the show's track record. The past seasons have all kicked off in early January: Season 1 hit screens on January 12, 2023. Season 2 rolled out on January 12, 2024. Season 3 landed on January 9, 2025. If the pattern holds, we'd bet Season 4 will show up around January 2026, probably in the first or second week. Some fans on X, like @TraitorsUSUpdates, mentioned rumors of filming starting in spring 2025, which lines up with that timeline. What's in Store for Season 4? Specifics on Season 4's format are still under wraps, but the core gameplay—Faithfuls versus Traitors, with nightly 'murders' and tense banishments—will likely stay intact. Season 3 spiced things up with the 'Traitor's Dagger,' allowing Traitors to recruit a Faithful, and X accounts like @TraitorsFanClub are hoping for more twists like that. New challenges or rule tweaks could keep players (and viewers) on their toes. Whatever's coming, it's bound to be a wild ride. Ahmedabad Plane Crash Aman Shukla is a post-graduate in mass communication . A media enthusiast who has a strong hold on communication ,content writing and copy writing. Aman is currently working as journalist at
Yahoo
5 hours ago
- Yahoo
Bizarre Things Old School Parents Used To Do—And Brag About
The nostalgia of yesteryears, when parenting looked less like a curated Instagram post and more like a candid behind-the-scenes reel. Your parents' tales of their upbringing might sound like tall tales, but they were the reality. Through the lens of modern sensibilities, these old-school parenting quirks seem incredibly bizarre, if not downright shocking. But in their day, they were worn like badges of honor—stories of survival, resilience, and sometimes sheer madness. Here are 15 peculiar things your parents' generation did, and still might brag about, as if they were Olympic feats. Back in the day, kids were released into the wilds of suburbia with nothing but a watch and a command to return home before dark. You might hear tales of how they went from house to house, picking up friends along the way, living an unsupervised existence that could make today's helicopter parents shudder. Sociologist William Doherty noted in his research that this "free-range" style of upbringing encouraged autonomy and problem-solving but at a cost of safety. It's the stuff of legends, really—like if Huck Finn met a cul-de-sac. And when they tell you about the time they biked ten miles solo to buy a candy bar, it's with a glint of nostalgia and a whiff of incredulity. It's as if the neighborhood itself was a co-parent, setting boundaries invisible to the adult eye. This kind of freedom cultivated a unique type of resilience, a DIY ethic that today's youth might find unfamiliar. Somehow they survived, thrived even, living to tell the tale and pass down this peculiar heritage of rugged independence. Remember those suspiciously grayish meats that showed up on your plate? Your parents speak of them like fine dining experiences from a lost age. Canned meats, TV dinners, and everything covered in gelatin were not just meals; they were culinary adventures. It's as if your generation was the last to experience meat as an enigma, wrapped in a can, served with a side of curiosity. They brag about your childhood nutritional intake like it was a rite of passage. "Oh, you think eating kale is tough? We survived on Spam and Vienna sausages!" they'd say, with a pride that borders on bemusement. Their stories, part horror and part hilarity, are shared with a reverence usually reserved for tales of survival. You get the sense that, for them, those meals were less about sustenance and more about building character. There was a time when parents disciplined their children not in the privacy of their homes but out in the open. A public scolding or a well-timed lecture in the grocery store aisle was considered effective parenting. Research by child psychologist Dr. Laura Markham has shown that such public shaming can lead to long-term emotional scars, yet for your parents, it was a tool of immediate compliance. The shame was a lesson, and the audience was the neighborhood. These tales are shared with the same mix of pride and cringe as a varsity game win. "You think grounding is tough? Try being lectured in the checkout line," they might say. There's a rawness to these memories, as if each recounted incident carries the weight of both trauma and triumph. The embarrassment was a currency they traded in, ensuring you would remember your misstep for years to come. The tales of going to bed hungry as a punishment are as frequent as they are unsettling. It's the kind of discipline that today's parents might find draconian but was once a commonly wielded tool in the parental arsenal. They talk about those nights like war stories, a testament to their resilience. But beneath the bravado, there's a hint of unease, a tacit acknowledgment of the cruelty wrapped in the guise of discipline. Parents recount these tales with a tone that mixes nostalgia with defiance. "You didn't eat your peas? Off to bed, no more food till morning!" they'd say, as if denying sustenance was a universally understood language of tough love. It's a relic of an era when parenting had a certain hardness to it, a belief that discomfort built character. The question remains, though—did it build resilience, or simply breed resentment? Seatbelts? Helmets? Child safety seats? Your parents might laugh at these modern-day essentials as if they were the punchline to a joke. In a study by safety expert Dr. Alan Williams, it was noted that the enforcement of safety regulations only became mainstream in the late '80s, meaning many children before then were essentially crash-test dummies. Their stories of bouncing around the backseat like pinballs carry a reckless charm, an ode to a time when rules were more like suggestions. The tales often come with a side of wonder—how did they survive such hazardous childhoods? "We didn't need helmets, we were tougher back then!" is a common refrain, delivered with a mix of bravado and disbelief. It's as if each story is a badge of honor, an emblem of their indomitable spirit. But you can't help but wonder if there's a touch of relief that their risky approach to parenting didn't result in more calamities. In their youth, thumbing a ride was as common as ordering an Uber today. Your parents speak of hitchhiking like it was a sacred ritual, an art form that required skill, charm, and a dash of bravado. They recount these tales with a pride that borders on the mythic, as if each successful ride was a testament to their savvy street smarts. It's a mystery how they look back on these potentially dangerous journeys with such fondness. Their stories sound like an adventure novel, filled with colorful characters and unexpected twists. "Back then, everyone was a friend, just waiting to be met," they might say, the romanticism coloring their narrative. It was a world where trust was currency, and danger was something you sidestepped with a smile and a wave. Each story is a reminder of a time when the world felt smaller and friendlier, albeit at times, more perilous. The sight of a parent casually puffing on a cigarette with a child in tow seems almost cinematic now, a relic from a bygone era. However, the normalization of smoking in family spaces was once so entrenched that it wasn't just common; it was expected. Research by Dr. Stanton Glantz from the University of California highlights the long-term health risks associated with secondhand smoke, yet such concerns were not widely acknowledged until much later. For your parents, lighting up at a family gathering was just part of the social fabric. Hearing these tales, you might feel an incredulous mix of horror and fascination. "We smoked in the house, in the car, everywhere!" they'll recount, as if recalling a time when the air was thick with both smoke and carefree abandon. The health ramifications were an afterthought, overshadowed by the social norm. Their stories paint a vivid picture of a time when ignorance was bliss, and the air was filled with more than just nostalgia. Lighting fireworks in the backyard was not just a pastime; it was a family event that bordered on the pyrotechnic equivalent of a gladiator match. Your parents speak of these annual rituals with a gleam in their eye, as if each sparkler held the potential for both magic and mischief. With little more than a bucket of water as a safety measure, these shows were less about regulation and more about spectacle. The flash and bang were an anthem of a carefree childhood. Their stories feel like a mix of danger and delight, each tale more daring than the last. "We didn't need professionals; we had Uncle Joe!" they'll laugh, reliving the thrill of lighting fuses with a steady hand and a brave heart. It was a time when the unpredictability of fireworks matched the unpredictability of life. There's a rawness to these memories, a reminder of a time when boundaries were blurred, and caution took a backseat to celebration. Your parents might recall a time when visiting the doctor was a last resort, not a first option. From homemade casts to mystery concoctions applied to cuts, their tales of at-home medical care are both alarming and oddly impressive. It's as if every household were a frontier clinic, where innovation met necessity in the guise of parental wisdom. Their stories brim with a certain pride, a declaration of their self-sufficiency, can-do attitude. "You kids today have it easy with your urgent cares and telemedicine," they might scoff, recounting tales of splinting broken fingers with popsicle sticks. It was an era when medical advice often came from a neighbor or a well-thumbed home remedy book. The DIY approach was less about lack of resources and more about an ingrained belief in personal responsibility. Each story is a testament to their resourcefulness, as well as a nod to a time when healthcare was as much about heart as it was about healing. Once upon a time, the line between childhood and adulthood was as blurred as the edges of a well-loved photograph. Your parents might speak of summer jobs that seem more like tales from Dickens than modern-day anecdotes. They recount these experiences with a sense of pride, as if each job was a stepping stone to adulthood, a lesson in responsibility learned at a tender age. It's a testament to an era when childhood was not cocooned in bubble wrap. Their stories come with a mix of grit and gratitude, a nod to the formative power of hard work. "You think your part-time job is tough? Try working a hot dog stand in July," they'd laugh, remembering the sweat and toil with a peculiar fondness. It was a time when work was both labor and life lesson, a rite of passage that built character as much as it built a paycheck. Through their stories, you glimpse a world where the divide between child and adult was narrower, but perhaps more enriching. In the past, questioning authority, especially parental authority, often led to an abrupt shutdown. The phrase "because I said so" was the ultimate conversation ender—a parental mic drop, if you will. Your parents wielded it with the authority of a seasoned diplomat, ending debates with a swift, unyielding finality. There was no negotiation, only the cold, hard reality of submission to an authority that was absolute. Their tales of these interactions are shared with a mix of defiance and understanding, as if they too were victims and enforcers of this old guard. "You kids today ask too many questions," they might say, reflecting on a time when obedience was demanded, not earned. It's a reminder of the dynamics of power, a dance of wills that was often one-sided. Yet, beneath it all, there's a recognition of the complex web of love, power, and control that defined their upbringing. The backyard pool was like the Wild West of aquatic fun—unregulated, unsupervised, and undeniably thrilling. Your parents might recount tales of impromptu pool parties where the only rule was to have fun. It was a world where diving boards were launch pads for imagination, and cannonballs were a rite of passage. The water was filled with laughter and a touch of danger, a combination that made each splash memorable. Their stories brim with the joy of reckless abandon, a reminder of a time when childhood was a little less safe but a lot more vivid. "We didn't need lifeguards, we had each other!" they'd say, their words tinged with the sweetness of nostalgia. It's a snapshot of an era when play was less about structure and more about spontaneity. Through their tales, you catch a glimpse of a world where the boundaries were as fluid as the water itself. Your parents are the last generation to have navigated the world without the comforting glow of a GPS on the dashboard. They speak of reading maps like they were ancient scrolls, deciphering routes with a mix of intuition and guesswork. It was a dance with uncertainty, where getting lost was part of the journey rather than an error to be corrected. Their tales are filled with misadventures and unexpected discoveries, a testament to the art of navigation as a lost skill. They share these stories with a mix of pride and nostalgia, a nod to their resourcefulness in the face of uncertainty. "You kids today have it easy, just follow the blue line," they might say, recalling a time when the world was a larger, more mysterious place. Their stories are a reminder of the joys of exploration, the thrill of the unknown. It's a glimpse into a world where technology took a backseat to intuition, and every journey was an adventure waiting to unfold. Long before texting became the primary mode of communication, there were marathon phone calls. Your parents might recount evenings spent tangled in the phone cord, whispering secrets and sharing dreams. It was an era when the phone was a lifeline, a conduit for human connection in its purest form. Their stories are filled with the warmth of long conversations, a nod to a time when communication required time, patience, and a sturdy neck. They speak of these calls with a mix of nostalgia and reverence, a reminder of the power of voice in an increasingly digital world. "Texting is convenient, but there's nothing like hearing someone's laugh on the other end," they'll say, acknowledging the magic of those analog connections. It's a testament to the art of conversation, a skill that is slowly fading in the world of emojis and abbreviations. Through their tales, you catch a glimpse of a world where words were not just exchanged but savored. Then, sibling rivalries were less about bickering over screen time and more about survival of the fittest. Your parents recount battles that could rival epic sagas, a mix of love and rivalry that defined their childhood. It was a world where disputes were settled on the playground, and the victor earned not just bragging rights but a place in the family hierarchy. Their stories are filled with the rough and tumble of childhood, a testament to the resilience built in the fires of sibling competition. They tell these tales with a mix of exasperation and affection, recognizing the role these rivalries played in shaping their identities. "You kids have it easy, just bicker over who gets the iPad," they might laugh, recalling the bruises and battles of yesteryears. It's a reminder of a time when family dynamics were less about negotiation and more about asserting dominance. Yet beneath it all lies a deep-seated love, the kind forged in the crucible of shared childhood.


Newsweek
6 hours ago
- Newsweek
Simone Biles and Riley Gaines' Dispute Explained
Based on facts, either observed and verified firsthand by the reporter, or reported and verified from knowledgeable sources. Newsweek AI is in beta. Translations may contain inaccuracies—please refer to the original content. Simone Biles and Riley Gaines have been involved in a public online feud, with tensions escalating and Biles now appearing to have deleted her account on X, formerly known as Twitter. Newsweek has reached out to a representative for Biles via email, and to Gaines via an online contact form, outside of regular working hours for comment. Why It Matters Biles is the most decorated gymnast in history. The 28-year-old won her first title in 2013 and by 2015, had become the first woman to win three straight world all-around titles. To date, Biles has 11 Olympic medals, seven of which are gold. Gaines, 25 is a former swimmer at the University of Kentucky and host of Outkick's Gaines for Girls podcast. She is a prominent conservative activist and is known for being an advocate against trans women in sport. Left, Simone Biles poses with her Paris 2024 Olympic medals at Bercy Arena in Paris on August 5, 2024. Right, Riley Gaines attends the Folds Of Honor Tennessee Rock N' Jock Celebrity Softball Game at... Left, Simone Biles poses with her Paris 2024 Olympic medals at Bercy Arena in Paris on August 5, 2024. Right, Riley Gaines attends the Folds Of Honor Tennessee Rock N' Jock Celebrity Softball Game at First Horizon Park in Nashville, Tennessee, on June 3, 2024. More/What To Know The drama, which has become viral online, first began on June 6 when Gaines reposted a photo on X, formerly Twitter from the Minnesota State High School League's account. The post read, "Meet Champlin Park, the Class AAAA Softball State Champion for 2025... Comments off lol. To be expected when your star player is a boy." Multiple outlets have reported that the transgender athlete Marissa Rothenberger is a pitcher on the team. Biles then responded to Gaines' message on X, calling her "truly sick," and a "straight up sore loser." She added: "You should be uplifting the trans community and perhaps finding a way to make sports inclusive OR creating a new avenue where trans feel safe in sports. Maybe a transgender category IN ALL sports!! But instead... You bully them... One things for sure is no one in sports is safe with you around!!!!!" In her post, Biles wrote "all of this campaigning because you lost a race," which is in reference to Gaines' 2022 race with the University of Pennsylvania athlete Lia Thomas, a trans woman. They tied for fifth place in a 200-yard freestyle race, and Gaines later testified in Congress about fairness in women's sports. In a separate post, Biles said: "Bully someone your own size, which would ironically be a male @Riley_Gaines_." Gaines shared a series of posts in response to this. She wrote on X: "This is actually so disappointing. It's not my job or the job of any woman to figure out how to include men in our spaces. You can uplift men stealing championships in women's sports with YOUR platform. Men don't belong in women's sports and I say that with my full chest." Gaines later followed this up, responding to Biles' remark about her body, writing: "And the subtle hint at "body-shaming" ???? Plzzzz I'm 5'5"." In a further post, Gaines wrote: "All the horrific sexual abuse @Simone_Biles witnessed and spoke out against caused by one man, yet believes women should be forced to strip naked in front of men to validate the man's feelings. You know how many gold medals you'd have if your "inclusive" dream came true? Zero." Biles was one of hundreds of women who came forward who to say they had been sexually abused by the former US Olympic gymnastics team doctor Larry Nasar, who used his position to sexually assault young athletes in what is the largest sexual abuse scandal in sporting history. Nasar was first arrested and charged in 2016 with sexually assaulting at least 265 women, under the guise of medical treatment. He was sentenced to 60 years in federal prison in 2017, after he pleaded guilty to possession of child pornography and evidence tampering. He received an additional 40 to 175 years in the Michigan Department of corrections, after he pleaded guilty to seven counts of sexual assault. He was sentenced again in February of 2018 to an additional 40 to 125 years in Michigan State Prison, after he pleaded guilty to an additional three counts of sexual assault. Biles has previously said that the abuse was "traumatizing." Gaines was criticized for her post commenting about Biles' experience, with some social media users describing it as "vile" and "astonishing," though other social media users have continued to support her. Biles later apologized for her remarks about Gaines, and wrote: "It didn't help for me to get personal with Riley, which I apologize for." "These are sensitive, complicated issues that I truly don't have the answers or solutions to, but I believe it starts with empathy and respect." Gaines accepted Biles' apology, for "the personal attacks including the ones where she body-shamed me." Biles now appears to have deleted her account on X following the fallout. The reaction online has been mixed, with both Gaines and Biles being praised and criticized from different social media users who sit on different sides of the political spectrum. What People Are Saying Simone Biles previously wrote on X: "I believe sports organizations have a responsibility to come up with rules supporting inclusion while maintaining fair competition. We all want a future for sport that is fair, inclusive, and respectful." Riley Gaines previously wrote on X: "I welcome you to the fight to support fair sports and a future for female athletes. Little girls deserve the same shot to achieve that you had." What's Next It's unclear exactly why Biles deleted her account on X. She still has her Instagram account, where she has 12.4 million followers, and recently posted celebrating being named the winner of the Nickelodeon Kids' Choice Female Sports Star award.