Some people abhor Made in Chelsea. They think it’s a load of rich twats, saying some really dumb things and cheating on each other. It mostly is. Which is all the more reason to love it.
I love the obviously scripted drama, the long, yearning looks down the Thames from Chelsea Embankment and them all jetting off on holiday at the same time and happening to arrive in the same place without supposed prior knowledge, but mostly I love the glamour of it all.
So, when we inadvertently crashed Stevie’s brother’s engagement party in Parson’s Green at a uber cool champagne bar Amouse Bouche, I obviously tried to get in with the cast and give off Chelsea vibes (this involves heavily pouting, smelling and looking expensive, perfecting your death stare and saying ‘yah’). I told Stevie I liked his elbow patches (I didn’t really but I hear flattery gets you everywhere). In truth, they aged him by about 16 years. I told Andy (AKA Nostrils) I liked his hideous paisley jacket (see above reasons why) and I tried to hide the small hole forming in my tights (you never see a Chelsean with ripped/linty tights- unless the ladders are there on purpose and then they manage to look tres cool and not ho-ey at all).
Alas, they seemed unconvinced by my Chelsea act. Maybe it was my heavy Mancunian accent, the fact I was trying to make my expensive drinks last a realllllly long time or that I wasn’t wearing enough Jo Malone- I don’t know. But in the end we didn’t get invited to the after party. I had a really early start the next day anyway so I wasn’t too fussed…
If you to want the chance to be rejected by a cast member of Made in Chelsea, head to Amuse Bouche. It’s actually pretty cool without that odious ‘trying too hard to be cool’ vibe some London bars have. (i.e all of Shoreditch)
Here’s a video of Mark Francis Vandelli being impossibly rich and twatty- I love him