Made In Chelsea South Of France 6: Ollie Is A Smarty, Boulle Is Too Arty And Frankie Won’t Let Jamie Party
The Debrief: It's the gang's last week in the South Of France! What could possibly go wrong now? Apart from, you know, everything.
It might be Autumn in our hearts, minds and Starbucks cups (and if anyone wants to join me in some seasonal outrage over the invention of the Pumpkin Spice Frappucino, I’ll be protesting my Basic little heart out at a town square near you) but it’s still a heavily Valencia filtered Summer in Cannes, which has become the Fulham of France in the last month and a half. Sam is making the most of the last hurrah by hiring a car which, to be frank, looks like the sort of vehicle that Nicholas Cage would throw himself from rather than actually drive. ‘It’s the Shagmobile! I mean, the I-can-take-care-of-your-daughter mobile!’ he explains to Louise. Mummy Thompson is meeting Daddy Watson in the ultimate parent show down. Will they fight? Will they fall in love? Just when you thought things couldn’t become more incestuous, will Sam and Tiff legally become brother and sister?
Over the course of the trip, Sam has become incredibly blonde, but he’s beaten by Jamie whose hair is so luminous that apparently one of the Klaxons tried to shave his scalp in his sleep in order to make glow sticks for their 2006 Dalston rave revival night. ‘As much as this place is supposed to be relaxing, this has turned into an absolute disaster,’ he moans to Boulle, which is a bit dramatic given that he’s currently face down on a sunlounger next to one of his best mates for his job. Boulle thinks Toff is self obsessed for accusing Liv of getting off with him to spite her, which seems a little uncharitable. Boulle, you’ve had a lovely summer of sun, sea and strangely presented plates of ham. Why not let Toff tell herself that this isn’t just about you breaking her heart?
Frankie is still maintaining her party line - she’s in the right, Mytton is an idiot, and she is essentially Saint Theresa in a Bardot top. We’ve seen the boys do this so many times that it’s horribly, disgustingly satisfying to watch her play the game back, right down to the way she threatens to dump Jamie unless he falls in with her PR campaign. It’s like seeing Simon Cowell turn up at an open mic night, only to get heckled for his own trousers.
The Watson-Thompson lunch is going scarily well, with Daddy W getting Sam’s number straight away when he says ‘You want to be everyone’s special little guy.’ Mummy T seems to be as committed to wine drinking as Mama Felstead, which is a joy to behold, and Tiff is a vision in pastel pistachio and a choker. It takes me a while to work out why I love her look so much - it’s because she reminds me of licorice allsorts.
Lukas is sharing his love of street art with his new posh chums, and they’re having a go themselves, by carefully filling a designated square canvas with graffiti. Someone draws something that is either a diagram of bacteria or a deformed foot. When they run out of space they start spraying Lukas, who keeps smiling but visibly winces as very cold, pressured paint hits his torso. Then Boulle sprays boobs on Liv’s shirt, giving her nipples the size of aeroplane windows. Assuming he’s seen her nips IRL, we have many questions. He also quotes some lopsided breast statistics. We suspect one’s imagination runs riot when one is down a diamond mine in Kenya. Mytton plans a party, ostensibly because it’s time to go home, but really because he wants to not invite Frankie and see what Jamie does. And we learn that Victoria is flying home privately and won’t offer to put a couple of shopping bags in the jet for Toff, who still has to go commercial.
JP has been texting Binks, and Ollie speaks for all of us when he says ‘FUCK OFF JP!’ Mytton tells Jamie that Frankie should be drowned in the sea, and she’d probably float. It would be much easier to see Frankie’s misdeeds for what they are if Mytton were not such a heinous anus. Liv tries to make it up to Toff, saying that her feelings for Boulle manifested themselves when it was too late to stop them, adding ‘The thought of someone else being hurt by something I’ve done makes me feel shit.’ Dude, that’s not an apology, that’s you saying that you’re able to feel a greater range of emotions than most mid to late nineties Disney villains. Still, they make it up, more or less. Hooray! Jess and Beautiful Maxcence have one last date, although Jess gives him an open invite to Chelsea ‘If we’re still talking and still fancy each other.’ This is very smart, Maxcence does have the aura of someone who might turn up on your doorstep after six months of silence ‘for a surprise’.
Frankie puts her foot down, and says ‘No Mytton party for you, Biscuits’ even though his pouty response is ‘But I like parties!’ Is it healthy or sensible to ban your partner from seeing their friends or doing something fun? Absolutely not. Is it OK to go to someone’s party without your partner when the host hates your partner, hasn’t invited them and has gone out of their way to make them feel less comfortable than a bedsheet covered in crisp crumbs? Not really. It’s so tedious that just thinking about it makes me need a lie down and a sandwich, but at least we can watch them staying in together wearing matching dungarees. At one point Frankie pours herself a glass of champagne and toasts herself for beating Mytton. Healthy? No. Chill? No. Oddly satisfying? SO MUCH.
Everyone else has a lovely time at the party. Boulle gives his kaftan one last airing, and presents Toff with his portrait of her and some sage. The portrait gets thrown in the sea, but she appears to hang on to the herbs. Maybe she’s doing a risotto later. Lukas brings the mood down by shrugging, Galliclly, that his new friends are always coming and going - ‘It’s the story of my life!’ Lukas, Brexit means Brexit! Mytton decides that Jamie can make his own mistakes, and Sam suggests that everyone must party like it’s 1997. Mytton, dash to your decks and fire up Candle In The Wind. And now we leave them. Safe journey, little Chelseas. If you’re coming back from Nice, don’t get stuck behind Ollie in the security line. He’s probably got a contraband bottle of Tom Ford that puts him over the liquid limit.
Villain Of The Week
Oh, it should be Frankie for being so manipulative and mean and doing all of the things that the boys are always getting Villain Of The Week for. But we love it. She’s like Dick Dastardly, singlehandedly wreaking revenge on Biscuits’ dastardly dick.
Hero Of The Week
A special mention must go to Ollie for being such a brilliant friend to Binks. JP will not come back on his watch! Ollie, you must stay focused until October!
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