Monday night brought with it some sad news: another season of Made In Chelsea has come to an end. And what an end it was, with Louise sucking on her hangnail for a good 45 minutes of the 60 minute episode as she valiantly sort of denied hooking up with her mysterious friend (Niall of One Direction), while her other friends speculated over how long it would be til Andy dumped her ass for being such a rabid whore.
And so it is that we must once again find us saying farewell to Proudlock’s non-ironic, genuinely Christian earring. In the most fitting send off we could think of, we decided to explore the Made In Chelsea cast that lives within all of us, via their clothes. Because, let’s face it: we’re all one MiC character deep down, right? Of course we are. But are you a Cheska or a Lucy? A Jamie or a quivering mass of lard? Let’s find out, shall we? Through the wonder of science, technology and a smattering of magic, we are now able to tell you exactly which Chelsea-ite you are, simply by your wardrobe. I know! Incredible.
First up, the girls.
If you favour being absurdly over dressed for any situation in maxi dresses, frothy minis and strapless frou frou dresses with splashes of diamante, you’re probably Cheska! You’ll most likely be found going after any male on two legs who will most certainly not be interested in you and will use the word ‘mates’ 75 times in one sentence to get this across. You’re also doomed to be best friends with people whose other best friends can’t stand you, but never fear! You’ll ably deal with this less than ideal situation by being as abrasive as possible to them whenever you can. Also: dogya. It’s yoga for dogs. Here are some yoga pants you may want to consider.
Boucle jackets, skinny jeans, sequin dresses, statement necklaces. Look at that! You’re a Louise. Most likely to be found sobbing. And, well, that’s it really. Here’s a fabulous jacket you might want to consider when you’re lobbing another napkin at your boyfriend’s head. The light will catch the sequins beautifully and really set off the whole look, making it all the more dramatic.
You regularly forget your clothes in favour of lingerie don’t you? Thought so, you look like the type. You have a touch of the Lucy Watson about you. When you’re not busy with people getting up in your grill, you can be found bringing back slang from the late 90s, driving men wild with lust and generally putting up the backs of women everywhere, before you get a proper spot on the new series, enjoy some character development and make everyone realise you’re not the sexy spawn of Satan’s genitals after all. Good for you, Luce.
If you have a lot of blonde hair, enjoy dark purple lipstick and have been known to occasionally wear a bright orange puffa jacket circa 1995, then you’re probably one of the heads on the three headed blonde hydra. You snog guys that have a girlfriend in hot tubs, or snog guys that have just declared themselves to be definitely gay again a mere ten minutes previously in the same episode, or just wear very dark lipstick and take down other girls for snogging your ex boyfriend. Fun! Plus: flatforms.
But not forgetting the boys..
Your parents let you eat an insane amount of refined sugar and processed food when you were a child, didn’t they? E numbers were your nanny, weren’t they? Maybe this is why your memory is so bad, leaving you plum forgetting you have a girlfriend. Or that you’re being filmed when you cheat on said girlfriend and deny her existence. Naughty, naughty, Jamie. And we thought the leopard print shirts were bad.
Do you think you’re Del Boy? Do you accessorise a hideously oversized fur coat a pimp might have thrown out on the grounds it was too gaudy and then accessorise it with a baseball cap? Do you have a bewildering penchant for leaving your white linen shirts open to the navel and tucked into your white linen pedal pushers? Then please, please tell me why? You and Spencer: peas in a very tight fitting pod. When you’re not actually eating, your name will likely come up in relation to eating. Occasionally you’ll feel generous and share your food, giving your sausage to girls who look like they could use a good meal, a slice of beefcake, a hearty porking. But you need to stop doing this! These girls have calories to count. Tell them the feeding is over gently, preferably on a bridge, which you can then stare off of intently into the distance, as you contemplate what’s for supper. (SiV regrets to inform you we have no such natty coats or white linen two pieces. We’re allergic.)
Farewell for now, Made In Chelsea. We look forward to watching you through our non-prescription, clear paned glasses a la Proudlock next time.