The thing about privilege is that it requires a context in order to be examined and evaluated meaningfully. So before we get to the meat of the Made In Chelseaeyebeefa introductory montage, we need to see Sam Prince on the back of a motorbike, berating an elderly, bearded driver for making him late. It’s enough to make raise a schadenfreude-ful cheer for the growing strength of the Euro, really. Cut to Jamie Biscuits brandishing a magnum of something that might be champagne, and might be asti spumante, yelling ‘I’M THE KING OF THE WORLD!’ Viva le république,
Here’s the big news - Sam Thompson and Tiff are on a relationship break, and Tiff has not come to the white isle. ‘There are respectful rules, and friends are off limits,’ explains Sam, who is constitutionally incapable of having sex with people who aren’t friends, friends of friends or cousins of people that he or Tiff went to school with.
Bad Harry Baron is sharing a villa with Liv and Toff. He is also sleeping with Emily, who has popped up before as Jess’s pal, and possibly Spencer Matthews’ love interest. (My internet is erratic, so I’m struggling to fact check this but let’s be real, it would be weird if Spenny hadn’t cracked onto her at some point between 2014 and The Jump.) Liv immediately makes rude noises when they kiss, demands to know their relationship status, refers to their ‘knobbing’ and asks Harry if he still fancies Frankie. It’s not so much a cock block as a full blown act of emotional castration. ‘When it’s on a plate, it’s easy,’ is the way Liv describes Harry’s relationship with Emily, to his face. Liv, is Emily not allowed to have casual sex? Why are you implying she’s doing something sleazy, by hooking up with a guy that you’ve hooked up with before? WHY ARE YOU SO MEAN?
Sam waspishly describes Biscuits’ Spanish as ‘Speaking quick with a lisp,’ and then gives the other Sam some strong tips for wooing Toff. ‘She doesn’t want to be bored with flowers and pasta and all that.’ Yup, nothing says ‘overblown romantic gesture’ like half a tin of spaghetti hoops. Other Sam takes Toff out for something protein based.
Harry gatecrashes a girly dinner at the villa (and Liv might be pissing me off right now, but I need to know where her lovely black camisole is from. Anyway…) and talk turns to the Fancying of Frankie. ‘Do you still fancy her?’ asks brave Emily. ‘Yeah! I mean….no,’ is Harry’s equivocal reply. See, not being invited to parties does not prevent you from ruining them!
A wounded Harry complains to Sam and Mytton about how Frankie is a horrible tease, and how unfair it is that everyone is being so mean to him. ‘She’s had plenty of opportunities to shut it down,’ he sniffs, shortly before Frankie does just that, telling him he’s being unfair to Emily, and to stop telling people that he fancies her. It ends badly, with Frankie making it quite clear that he’s a sod, and Harry smirking like an urban fox that has just spotted an unlocked, unattended branch of KFC. Sam has pulled, and Mytton ruminates on his sexual success. ‘No girls are safe on this island!’ he crows. Mytton, was that a rape joke? BECAUSE IT WASN’T FUNNY. The boys then have a queasy conversation about which of the single girls they like, and Mytton forces Sam to say that Mimi is sexy. He does, but sees her ‘more as a friend’. Next, we see Mytton, dressed like a loon for the summer solstice, delivering this news faster than you can say ‘`my mate fancies you!’
Collectively, the men of SW3 have ruined fun, festival face glitter for everyone. Thanks for that. Harry’s face is as sparkly as his soul is stinky. He tells Biscuits that Frankie told him to break up with Emily ‘because she’s slightly jealous’. Maybe he’s not evil, but entirely delusional. Perhaps he genuinely lives on opposite land. It could be that he has an obscure inner ear disorder that takes everything anyone tells him and turns it into ‘La la la, Harry is great, we all fancy him and don’t think he looks like a spiv in a bad school play.’ There’s another confrontation with Frankie. Emily turns up and Harry gives her a weirdly formal double cheek kiss, as if she’s his elderly aunt’s best friend, not his hot holiday fling. How can anyone be angry with him for having feelings for Frankie when he said this several days ago? Has anyone asked him how he’s feeling right this minute? ‘You’re putting me down for being honest!’ he protests, second before he takes a drink to the face. Hooray!
Mimi sidles up to Sam and demands to know what’s so sexy about her. He obliges, even though he keeps calling her ‘Mate,’ which as a term of endearment is a bigger turn off than ‘Have you seen my Canesten?’ Liv looks aroused by the prospect of sneaking back to the villa and Skyping Tiff to tell her all about it. Other Sam throws a strop because Toff isn’t putting out, wailing about being ‘massively pied off’. Wrong show! You can’t pie someone off unless you’re within a five-mile radius of the Sugar Hut. Also, when Other Sam sulks, he looks ten years younger, which isn’t good news when you appear to be 13. He resembles a Culkin sibling, and not the cute kind - the straight to DVD indie movie kind. It’s a little while since Summer Solstice, when this episode was filmed, so kudos to the MIC cast, for recreating the experience so vividly. After this much endless, tantrum based drama, we all feel as though we’ve just lived through the longest day of the year!
Hero of the week:
Let’s give it for Toff, who stuck to her guns and made it very clear to Sulky Sam that she has boundaries. If he can’t be a gentleman, he can jog on.
Villain of the week:
I have a feeling I could just write ‘Harry Baron’ and leave his name there for the next six weeks. So, for the sake of change, Mytton can have the title for stirring, gossiping and manipulating Sam into a potentially permanent split with Tiff.
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This article originally appeared on The Debrief.