Season 12 starts with a slightly bizarre opening sequence focusing on Ollie as he walks around London as if he is Belle at the beginning of Beauty And The Beast. All we’re missing really is Gaston (we can hope).
It all gets a tad nasty with Mark Francis, Victoria and Toff who are STILL fixated on Francis and Olivia Bentley’s behaviour in France. Victoria likens Olivia Bentley to dill, while Mark points out that she is more like parsley “which is much more common”. They then say that they hope Francis burns alive in Ghana given his proximity to the Equator. Perhaps a tad harsh. Anyone would think he’d smacked their grandmothers over their heads with a teflon pan and left them for dead.
There’s a new boy in it called Akin. Well done, Made In Chelsea; it only took you six years to cast a black guy. Apparently he was arch enemies with Mytton at school and they used to fight over all the girls but it wasn’t really a competition because they all preferred Akin and blahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. Yes, yes Akin, we’ve heard all that macho shit before, try a different tack.
There’s a boy in Ollie’s kitchen looking rather too at home for my liking, wearing a large blouse or nightshirt with the buttons barely done up. Apparently he’s his boyfriend?! Where did YOU come from? We don’t like you!
JP sends the Buh-Signal into the air and asks Binky if she’ll meet him at the illuminated bridge of dreams, where all good things either progress, come to an end or are shattered into a million shards of despair. Apparently he wants her back, much like The Jackson 5 wanted back whoever I Want You Back was aimed at. He promises her a good home in the country and some strapping sons, as long as she comes with a good dowry.
After Face-Timing her French lover Maxine, Jess introduces Toff to Emily (a new person) who dismisses her date off upstairs and announces that, frankly, she’s not fussed about him. When she buggers off, Jess remarks that Emily is “never short of a guy” AKA she is a whore.
Olivia Bentley’s parents live in Henley, which is where my mother lives. She shall have to move. Mrs Bentley is a bit like Charlotte Rampling of Oscar’s-race-row fame. Apparently a random boy lives with the Bentleys, named Julius. He is very much like Jamie Laing but not him and with an even worse haircut. He’s a singer (which means he does nothing). Tiff meets him and then says to Olivia Bentley that she should perhaps flirt with him tomorrow to make Sam jealous because he hasn’t given her flowers for a while.
Proudlock meets Frankie and we can all instantly tell that he doesn’t care for her. If he watched the final episode of MIC:SOF then can you blame him? JP joins them and announces that over the summer he went from being a boy to becoming a man (lols).
Wheeze is still sexing Lurch from The Addams Family. He doesn’t actually open his mouth and say anything until 36 minutes into the episode, whilst pic-nicking with Ollie, Wheeze and Ollie’s annoying boyfriend who we hate.
At the river, Rosie is dressed like a governess and Wheeze is wearing a tablecloth. Rosie goes off on one about JP and says that when people say they’ll change they only do so “for 20 minutes”.
Emily’s there and she remarks that men’s personalities aren’t important and that it’s all about looks. While this is certainly true, she really is coming across so far as a slag.
JP tells Wheeze (again) that he’s gone from being a boy to a man, and we all pray he doesn’t say this thrice in one episode because it was cringe enough the first time.
Julius is telling some God-awful story about how everyone in his family plays cricket except him when Tiff starts “flirting” with him, by pretending she has something in her left eye and then comparing his hands to hers. Watching them with Sam, Akin remarks that they look “intensely close” but no-one asked you, Akin. Then Julius SINGS at Tiff’s face and I just want to die.
JP and Ollie have a blazing row about Binky and JP goes all red and shiny. He calls Ollie “pal” repeatedly which Ollie remarks is “terribly annoying” before littering the Thames by chucking his glass into it, potentially risking the life of a passing moorhen or coot.
Next week’s predictions: Does it really matter? Fredrik Ferrier’s back, bitch!