Made In Chelsea: The Next Series

Made in Chelsea - C4

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.

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Video: Arcade Fire’s ‘We exist’ – does it celebrate gender diversity?

The comments and incredibly close like-to-dislike ratio on this vid on YouTube shows that it definitely splits opinion – and not along the lines you might expect.

But I enjoyed it, and I think you might too. Let me know.

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Spiffy new website for Christina D Kenny: journalist and grown-up

Long-time readers of D for Dalrymple will be aware of (and possibly vaguely disappointed by) my recent attempts to forge a new career as a journalist. Nevertheless, this appears to be a thing that is happening.

In the interim, it has become clear that maintaining a Google+ account that no-one (least of all Google) really gets was not the best way to showcase my online writing portfolio. For this reason, I have created a new and marginally more professional blog that will host some of the best bits of work I’ve done for other people.

I hope you like what you see there. If you do, and you would like to help me add to it, please get in touch with me via Twitter or email (christina dee kenny at geemail dot com).




Visit my new website.


Do it now.

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Eurovision Final 2014 in Copenhagen – (un)official scorecard – printer-friendly version

There are still four hours to go until the Eurovision 2014 final in Copenhagen – plenty of time to print out your (un)official scorecards!

Eurovision Final 2014 - (un)offical scorecard - Christina Kenny, D for Dalrymple

Click here to access the PDF of my Eurovision Final 2014 (un)Official scorecard.

Many thanks to graphic designer Ben Wordsworth for putting this together as a proper scorecard. View the original crappy layout here.

I have been contacted by several people who want to know what constitutes a ‘Jesus wept’ bonus point.

Please be aware that this is a very special bonus and must not be awarded lightly. He must be really crying.

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Eurovision Final 2014 in Copenhagen – (un)official scorecard

Do you value glitter and wind machines over small, inconsequential details like song quality? If so, then this is the score card for you. 

UPDATE (10 May 2014): download this scorecard in PDF table format here: Eurovision Final 2014 (un)Official scorecard – version for printingPlease use irresponsibly. 

Eurovision 2014 logo


COUNTRY: ……………………………………………….

SCORED BY: ……………………………………………..

1. Song (0-5):     ……….

2. Outfits (0-5):     ……….

3. Choreography (0-5):     ……….

4. OMFG factor (0-5):     ……….

5. Bonus points – award one for each of the following that applies:

  • Song not in English
  • Song in English, but very bad English
  • Cheesy modulation to a different key
  • Wind machine
  • Pyrotechnics
  • National instruments
  • Anyone barefoot
  • Partial nudity
  • Awkwardly sexual
  • White piano
  • Jesus wept

TOTAL:     ……….

NB: If you’re not sure what constitutes a cheesy modulation, then listening from 3.03 to 3.20 of this video should give you an idea.

Update (9/5/14): a longer version of this post can be found on Huffington Post UK. Essential rules remain unchanged

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Interview: Cara and Cathy

An interview with friends of D for Dalrymple, Cara and Cathy – reblogged from the Equal Marriage blog, Alex&Alex. Features bunnies.

Interview: Cara and Cathy.

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How to make beard balm, or, Why D for Dalrymple hasn’t been updated for so long

It’s because I’m fannying about doing ‘work’ like this for my Journalism course.

Give me a month. Come June, I’ll be unemployed and back to whingeing about feminism and shopping baskets.

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