Before some of us sniffier types get all sniffy about the return of 'Made in Chelsea' for a sixth - yes - series, let's remind ourselves that this is now the BAFTA-WINNING 'Made in Chelsea', bringing to screen the real-life hopes and aspirations of a crucial generation making their way into the adult world with all the blips, cracks and rivalries that will inevitably entail… nope, it's not working. It's a load of posh gits wasting good champagne. But, for a cold Monday night, it's pretty unbeatable.
What makes a man... ?
The producers have obviously decided that Spencer is the most interesting of the pack, so even while the other Chelsea residents were busy pouring £600 bottles of Bolly into each other's faces at Sussex poolside, the cameras were zoomed in on solo Spencer, involved in deep contemplation on - oh, kill me now - the psychiatrist's couch.
Why is Spencer in an expensive psychotherapy session because of his problem with sex? Many a man would like to have his problem - i.e. having sex with lots of women, pissing them all off, normally by cheating, and then somehow making it all okay again. Why oh why does he do it, Doctor Freud? Furrowed brow. Could it be? That's right. Because he can.
Episode 1, and already tears for Louise
Meanwhile, back at poolside, fool in love Andy Jordan was trying to work out how his loving girlfriend Louise could lose both her top according to a reliable source (well, Lucy Watson), and her phone FIVE TIMES in the course of solo evenings out. 10 whole minutes later, barely enough time to say 'mug' and it was all over. How did we know? Because even the guitar was being shifted out of Louise's gaff, which must have given a silver lining to her cloud. Done and dumped. So what did she need? Probably a good female friend to talk through her actions. What did she get? Spencer, reminding her that she never cheated on him.
New characters Miffy and Freddy made their debut, in what could safely be called a soft launch, ie we barely noticed. Miffy did little more than guffaw like a posh person, and I didn't hear anything Freddy said, because I was too busy looking at his teeth. Sorry to get personal, but they're not naturally that colour so I don't feel bad. Whiter than an angel's T-towel, and wider than piano keys. How could Lucy Watson resist his advances? And why does everyone use her surname?
Even Andy's nostrils were deflated by the goings-on with his girlfriend
The only two people I like were both involved in water sports. The source of all sanity, Mark Francis, was sporting an orange cashmere and threatening Binky with death if she dared to wet his tender locks in the lake. Nobody does it better.
And Francis was mysteriously mislaying his shorts while swimming, which actually gave Rosie Fortescue the hint of a storyline. A brief one. A token gesture. But still more to do than poor Cheska.