• Simon Ward

A blog about TOWIE and Made In Chelsea

The Only Way Is Essex is back. It's enough to make you rise from your seat and put your hands together, and say, “Right, lets go out.” I opt for channel hopping instead. I hop across the English Channel in the hope they aren't airing it in France! It's also known as the five-letter word 'TOWIE', although I find any four-letter word works just as well.

I’ve always thought the title was misleading. In particular, I've always felt it lacked a question mark, as in: The Only Way Is Essex? I think most shows on ITV would greatly benefit from a question mark. Britain’s Got Talent? Take Me Out? Party Wright Around the World? The answer to all of those questions being an immediate: No.

The cast on TOWIE all wear so much bright orange fake tan that they look like Willy Wonka’s Oompa-Loompas. That’s quite unfair, though – those Oompa Loompas actually work, whereas the closest thing any of the TOWIE lot have come to manual labour is when Joey Essex pressed the button to take a selfie with Ed Miliband.

Naturally, with 12 series under its animal-print belt, some of TOWIE’s numbers have gone to pastures new. Mostly viewer numbers, actually. It seems over time, the same bleary-eyed sensation of watching TOWIE can be achieved by punching yourself in the face, only without the same adverse effects that come with watching TOWIE.

Joey Essex recently left the show, feeling it was time to leave. And that’s coming from a man who can’t even tell time. His exit came after the likes of Amy Childs and Harry Derbidge left the show, although I’m always still hearing their names. Any time I pop into the Spar, in fact. “Please can Amy Childs come to check-out four!”

Amy Childs famously populated the idea of a Vajazzle, which means sticking diamonds around your vagina so it resembles an entrance to an Essex nightclub. Both I believe are designed to attract dicks. Sticking sparkles around your ladyparts seems about as useful as giving Hull a tourist office. Hardly anyone will ever see it, so why bother?

There’s actually now a male version of the Vajazzle called the Pejazzle, which is essentially a sparkly penis. Although if you go into a salon and ask for a Piers Morgan, then you’ll get the same thing! Piers Morgan, of course, is famously an Arsenal fan, in much the same way as TOWIE is a documentary and the Pope is Protestant.

One recent plotline in the show revolved around Arg and Lydia having sex. Presumably he called it 'Argy-bargy', mainly because he's called Arg, and he smells like deeply fried battered onions. They didn't show the sex scene, but apparently there was a lot of moaning - mainly from Arg and Lydia, because they didn't bother showing it!

The cast have complained they only earn £50 a day, which I’m sure they could earn in Burger King. Actually, I’m not sure that’s right, so I’ll just wait six months and ask the cast themselves. They do get cash from magazine deals, though. And I’m sure if they ask the newsagent nicely, he’ll probably let them deliver the newspapers as well.

It’s hard to know how long TOWIE will last, which is exactly what I think around five seconds into any episode. It has been on for years, which is what I think at around the two-minute mark. If it does end, I’m sure the cast will be able to put their talents to good use! They still use human crash test dummies, right?

Made In Chelsea is the upmarket version of TOWIE, in much the same was as Poundland is the upmarket version of The 99p Store. The cast are posh, though. You can tell with their names like Spencer, Proudlock, Cheska, Miffy, Binky, Pugh, Pugh, Barney McGrew, Cuthbert, Dibble and Grub. Wait, I’m getting confused. Miffy was axed ages ago.

You have to say the production values on Made In Chelsea are phenomenal. They’re so good you sometimes forget the cast are just a series of mindless gurning robots. I’m joking, of course – it’s so obvious they’re mindless gurning robots. I think they even tried to kill John Connor in one episode by undercooking his guineafowl.

Spencer Matthews appeared in another show called The Bachelor. In it, girls competed for a chance to date the clueless goon, a prize that really puts that Countdown teapot into perspective. Spencer’s full name is actually a Countdown-style anagram for ‘Screams Then Wept’, which is what I imagine a date with him would be like.

Recently it was revealed that Made In Chelsea is actually scripted, which I found shocking, mainly because I was under the impression that none of them can read. I wonder who does script it, though. It can’t be hard to find out. Simply look for a child who has some crayons missing from his box, and that’s your man.

One day we’ll have to justify these kinds of programmes to our kids in much the same way as our parents had to justify the atomic bomb to us. A tragic disease released onto the world that caused untold misery and devastation to millions of people. And that’s probably what our parents said about the A-bomb as well.

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