TV reviewTelevision This article is more than 6 years oldReviewMade in Chelsea review – keeping up with Tiff, Toff and the other toffs
This article is more than 6 years oldThe ‘dudes’ are back – and Binky’s pregnant, JP seems to be the father, but whether they’re together or not is anyone’s guess. It’s complicated down SW3 way
I love that there’s a “Previously” bit at the start of Made in Chelsea (E4). There’s really not much to catch up with. Previously there were some posh C-words, doing posh C-wordy things around the SW3 area of London. Some of them are no longer on the show, others are still there, there are some new faces … that’s really all you need to know about 12 (!) seasons of MIC.
I’ve dipped in, at a rate of about one episode per season on average. I’ve always found it enlightening and extraordinary (mainly extraordinary that I share 100% of my DNA with these fabulous creatures, I feel closer to bonobos). And I’ve promised to spend more time with them but then somehow never got round to it. Must do better this time.
Right, so Jamie – just back from holiday – and Proudlock are feeling pretty good about 2017. I think this – their eternal optimism, along with the extraordinary good fortune of their births, might be the secret to their success. Dude, they say to each other. I mean, dude, come on, it’s going to be a sweet year, man.
Meanwhile, Tiff, Toff, and Liv have had a tough workout at a boutique yoga space. “Can we talk about your tan please?” says Toff, or possibly Tiff, to Liv. Yes, that would be interesting; can we? We can! Liv’s also been on holiday. “It’s ’cos I was literally doing nothing, apart from lying on my arse,” she says.
And that’s not the end of the holiday news. Julius has booked an epic villa in Mauritius, and invitations are going out, to anyone who’s female, blonde, attractive, and available to go away at a couple of days’ notice (so doesn’t have any tiresome ties, like, say, a job). Everyone, in other words.
Carelessly, Sam might actually be getting one of those – a job, from girlfriend Tiff (who’s not Toff, even if she is one – a toff – keep up). Well from Tiff’s daddy, actually, who’s expanding his catering empire; opening a club; hiring.
“I love to go off piste,” says Sam in his interview. (Don’t you love a skiing metaphor?) But then he seems to regret appearing so reckless to his potential future employer/father-in-law. “Within the boundaries of the piste,” he adds, confusingly. Amazingly, he gets the job. Not that amazingly, he’s Tiff’s boyfriend, remember. For how much longer, though? They’re having a few (tiffs) of their own. And he seems to rather like Ella at the bar. Plus Sam’s on the Mauritius invite list, I imagine that would take precedence over any employment commitments.
The other big excitement is Mark Francis and Victoria’s Russian Ball. Mark is teaching another girl, who may be Toff, or Liv, or Ella, or Daisy, or someone else, I’m losing my grip on the beautiful blondes. “Oh my God, I feel like a judge on one of those awful programmes,” says Victoria, watching. I don’t think they really do Strictly in Chelsea.
I enjoy the generic shots between scenes – big cars, little dogs, drinking, shopping. I wish I lived in SW3, not NW10, I wish my name was Proudlock or JP, and that my girlfriend was called Binky …
Hang on! There is actually a rather thrilling development. Epic even (without wanting to take anything away from Julius’s Mauritian villa). Unexpected item in the bagging area! Binky’s pregnant. JP seems to be the father, though I’m not sure whether they’re together or not; I think it’s complicated (isn’t it always?).
OH! MY! GOD! Say the girls, collectively, over a glass. Actually, Stephanie, Rosie and Louise, who, guess what, has just been on holiday. Yeah, I know, it’s getting ridiculous now, all the holidays, all the girls. But Binky’s news is bigger than any of that now.
For JP, the chaps are more … well, kind of obviously shocked. Jamie, Proudlock and – person of colour alert! – Akin look genuinely sorry for him. “Mate”, they say, a lot, before it becomes an excuse for a hug and bottle of bubbly. MATE!
I’m excited about it, ready even, a baby, actually made in Chelsea. Don’t get me wrong, it’s been fun, all the partying, drinks, dudes and girls, secrets, jealousies, breaking up and unbreaking up. But after 12 seasons, maybe this is what Made in Chelsea needs, to take it to the next level. Something serious to think about: substance.
In the meantime, next week, there’s Mauritius to look forward to. A well-earned holiday, sun, sea and all that, it’s going to be epic, I’m going to be there.
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