I recently read a news article on the Daily Mail website that caused me to rethink everything I thought I knew about reality TV phenomenon Made In Chelsea. That is to say: everything.
Three years after the show started, I am still almost totally in the dark as to what it all means. Sure, Binky is cross with Alex for joining in with an orgy at Spencer’s place – but do these people really exist? Are their problems real? Do they have separate mobile contracts for their non-MIC lives? Do they HAVE non-MIC lives?
The treatment I wrote for the series three years ago still works, apparently.
Scene one: early morning in Candida’s bedroom
Candida sleeps fitfully and alone. The camera sweeps across the bedroom floor, which is littered with designer heels, abandoned wisps of expensive lingerie and small piles of cut diamonds. In the foreground, a Blackberry rings on silent. The film crew decide that Candida needs her rest and do some close-ups of the illuminated display, which records seventeen missed calls from Cosmo.
Scene two: Fenestra’s mum’s kitchen
Fenestra and Gusset perch on bar stools at the semi-precious stone-inlaid breakfast bar, sipping Civet lattes as they discuss the events of the previous evening (a swanky party held to promote Wiggy’s new handbag range). Both agree that the bags on display were hideous, and Wiggy herself sick-makingly mankazoid. The girls agree that Wiggy should be brought down a peg or two. Fenestra has the brillopants idea of writing a post for herSloane About Town blog insinuating that Wiggy takes inspiration for her handbags from the high street.
Scene three: Cosmo’s SW3 pad
Cosmo redials Candida on his mobile, but hangs up guiltily as girlfriend Plummy enters the room. Plummy carries a designer bag that contains a teacup piglet wearing earrings and a tiara. Seeing Cosmo’s guilty expression, Plummy challenges him over the call. An inexplicable lapse in continuity means that she soon has Cosmo’s solid gold mobile in hand and is checking his dialled numbers. A short yet unusually resonant argument ensues (Plummy can be heard as far off as Ladbroke Grove) and Cosmo storms off, snatching up a white mink top hat from the coatstand as he leaves.
Scene four: a squash court, somewhere posh
Cosmo and Spackers play squash. The game is intense: the boys play so hard and with such skill that the ball is never quite visible. The camera lingers on their impressive musculatures, which are surprisingly defined given their stated occupations (Event Organiser and Professional Hairdo). Spackers, whose initials are embroidered on his super-luxe sports togs in platinum thread, advises his friend that he may well have behaved incorrectly with regard to his conduct towards Plummy and Candida: ‘You were, well, to be honest, bang out of order, mate. Sozzlebiscuits.’ A bead of sweat rolls down Cosmo’s forehead onto his cheek and solidifies into a perfect pearl.
Scene five: back at Cosmo’s pad
Plummy is lolling on a lizardskin beanbag nibbling at a Fabergé egg when Cosmo returns to the flat. Despite the presence of the camera crew, she extracts an Awkward apology and a promise that Cosmo will not see Candida again unchaperoned. She then departs for Harvey Nicks leaving Cosmo to read another text from Candida: ‘Coming 2 one’s gig 2nite? Bisous, Candy XxXx (The Rt Hon Lady Minge)’.
Scene six: a grimy Mayfair pub
The whole gang are gathered together for Candida’s musical debut. Spackers, Fenestra and Gusset bitch over gold-flecked mojitos served by monkey butlers, and are joined by Fumbles, Twinkle, Gimpy, Biffles and Stinky, who have all been on a unicorn shoot at Vulva’s country estate. Jonno, the show’s only black character (drafted into the second series to help meet industry targets), enters the bar to a chorus of ‘yo’s and fistbumps from the established cast. At this point viewers can press the red button to self-administer a lethal overdose.
Candida trips onto the stage to general applause, peeping with difficulty through Swarowski crystal-tipped eyelashes. Tremblingly, she puts her full, sensual lips to her silver kazoo. The first song brings the house down: everyone agrees that her soulful interpretation of Jack Johnson’s Who Gives A Fuck should totes deffo secure her the record deal she’s after. Yet Candida looks troubled. Her eyes, now bleeding freely, scan the crowd as she launches into her second song.
The performance is lacklustre until Cosmo bursts in, whereupon Candida perks up noticeably and brings Goldfinger to a rousing finish. Cosmo leaps onto the stage and is leaning in for the kiss when Plummy storms in. The camera zooms in as he looks frantically from Plummy to Candida and back again. Background music rises to a crescendo. Plummy’s pig climbs out of its bag and craps emeralds all over Cosmo’s shoes.