MIC 14.3: Mimi Makes A Dig, Tiff Cuddles A Pig, And We’re Seriously Wondering Whether Charlie Wears A Wig
The Debrief: Why *does* Jamie Biscuits keep comparing his on-again/off-again relationship with Frankie to Sliding Doors?
First things first - we need to talk about how in this week's Made In Chelsea Jamie Biscuits is comparing his on again/off again relationship with Frankie to Sliding Doors. Shall we call a moratorium on people using the expression ‘it’s like Sliding Doors’ when they haven’t actually seen the film? Because in the 1998 movie, there is a reality in which Gwyneth Paltrow’s character dies. Biscuits is using it to mean ‘Well, I could make one choice, or I could make a different choice’ which isn’t necessarily like Sliding Doors at all. It’s being a living human being or 2017. You don’t stand in the supermarket saying ‘Shall I get chicken or salmon? It’s like Sliding Doors’ even when the food is located in a glass cabinet, and to get to the products within the cabinet you have to operate actual sliding doors. Also, this referencing might be a worrying prophecy about Biscuits’ next hairstyle. No-one in the world but Gwyneth can pull off that Brad Pitt era curtained crop! Biscuits, be warned!
Proudlock and Boulle are such good friends that they recruit a date for Biscuits - and when we say ‘date’, we mean ‘someone who is angling to get back on the promotional PA circuit, because Christmas is coming’. It’s Victoria’s ex best friend Sophie Herman! Sophie is very anxious to stress that she does not want to be romantically involved with Biscuits in any way, but the whole business feels worryingly Pretty Woman esque, while we’re in the business of misremembering the plots of classic films. We get the impression that Sophie is up for pretty much anything as long as she doesn’t have to kiss Biscuits on the mouth.
WATCH: We Talk To Lucy, Proudlock And Binky From Made In Chelsea
Ryan and Louise are fighting, which might be because they are, according to Louise, in a ‘rut’, but is almost certainly connected with the fact that Ryan has taken to wearing a weird combo of running leggings and baggy running shorts, and looks like a sweaty sous chef who is trying to escape from a baying mob of diners who have found hairs in their soup. Charlie takes Tiff for a dull looking lunch, while everyone speculates about whether or not it’s revenge. Surely if Tiff really wanted proper revenge, she’d hack into Mimi’s emails and change her flight information, so that she had to sit in a middle seat, and eat a kosher vegan meal at the very end of the food service. Tiff has better things to do, like proving that she’s a strong woman for Liv’s shoot by posing with a piglet under a tree.
Harry, who has come along to the shoot because it’s nice to have some screen time, is somehow stirred by Tiff and the piglet, and appears to see her in a whole new light. It’s as if she’s taken her glasses off and unbuttoned her blouse - noticing the elegant tilt of her chin when it’s being licked by a farmyard animal turns Harry all gallant. He meets Charlie for a drink and warns him off, telling him that if he likes Mimi, he can’t have any more vegan lunches. Charlie looks taken aback. He also looks as though the glue that seems to be holding his hair on might be melting under the hot light box.
Louise tells Biscuits that she hasn’t had sex for a month, Boulle draws a picture on a t shirt of a badger feasting on a bleeding arm, and Sophie meets Biscuits for the blind date. Correctly, she takes him to task for making her come to Bounce. Biscuits claims it’s fun, not copping to the fact that it’s been featured on the programme so many times, he no longer has to pay for his own prosecco. Biscuits also revealed that his pulling technique involves approaching a woman in a bar and telling her that he’s made a restaurant reservation, and he’ll be waiting for her down the street. Never do this. Imagine. ‘I have no friends, but I booked for two on the off chance that I could find a lonely woman and force her to use the two for one voucher with me.’ Just eat two pizzas by yourself, Biscuits, it’s much less embarrassing.
Charlie goes on another date with Mimi, only to go red and spill his drink when Tiff is mentioned. He’s less like a human, and more like a character that has been created for a public information film to be shown in expensive schools about the dangers of having sex with your first cousins. Mimi is welcome to him. Louise tries to talk to Ryan about the rut, and he gets astonishingly stroppy. Also, we learn that Louise never instigates sex with her partners, ‘it just sort of happens’. I am too sad about this to think of a good joke about it. This is why we need consent to be part of sex education. On that theme, Biscuits is claiming that Sophie has been ‘putting up a front’ [but she was] ‘massively all over me.’ Just imagine, for a second, if any of us talked about anything else in the way that men talk about women that they want to have sex with. The job rejections we’d laugh at, claiming that the businesses were ‘just playing hard to get’ as we turned up at receptions with flowers, in pin stripes, muttering ‘Yeah, but when you said no, you didn’t mean it, did you?’ The supermarkets we’d steal from, believing that the delicious free square of cheese entitled us to smash open the screen behind the dairy counter and help ourselves to whole wheels of brie. The way we’d laugh when security came, cheese up to our eyebrows, claiming that we were just having a bit of fun, or that the accusations were totally made up. These are imperfect analogies, for sure - but I wish they would give the Chelsea boys pause.
Continuing the theme of the objectification of women, we have a woodland rave with a special guest - Sam Thompson, who has discovered that Harry and Tiff had a little kiss during a game of Spin The Bottle, and is behaving as if he’s a teenage Lamborghini driver who has just been rear ended. Tiff shuts down his obnoxiousness with a gravity that is truly presidential (in a 2015 sense), simply saying ‘I don’t want to be friends with you’. And we love her for it.
Hero of the week
The only frontrunner is Tiff’s adorable photoshoot friend, who was so sweet and snuffly and well behaved, and is making us think twice about the deliciousness of sausages. When we’re surrounded by figurative pigs, it’s a delight to see a real one.
Villain of the week
Even though he was only in it for about three minutes, Sam ‘the human epitome of male entitlement Thompson’ has to be the winner, although he has strong competition from Jamie Biscuits’ rave outfit.
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