Aisling Murphy switches off her brain – much like the cast of Made in Chelsea, actually…
The word I associate most with E4’s so-called reality show Made in Chelsea is ‘ridiculous’. Arguably the stupidest programme on our screens, MIC focuses on the lives and loves of the wealthy young inhabitants of London’s Chelsea district. The cast of the reality show are vapid, selfish and completely devoid of the usual characteristics one celebrates in humanity: intelligence, generosity, kindness...the list goes on. The ‘storyline’ (if you could even call it that) follow the (mostly) good-looking socialites as they totter from party to country house to shopping trips back to party – portraying how privileged the one percent really are.Nothing ever really happens; no one ever learns anything from their experiences; the watcher certainly doesn’t learn anything from the experience...and I love it. Yes, you read that right. I am totally, utterly, embarrassingly addicted to Made in Chelsea. I am not alone – shows don’t get renewed for four seasons (with a fifth in the pipeline) without having a very sizeable audience tuning in weekly.I have racked my brains trying to find out why I watch it so religiously, and the reasons have been hard to find. Usually the reasons I enjoy a programme is because the characters and their relationships draw me in, the plot is exciting and interesting, or the punch lines come thick and fast. MIC has none of this: unappealing characters, dull relationships, zero plot, and the characters think a punch line is the queue for cocktails at one of their endless parties.It was five-thirty last Thursday night and I had just completed two essays that were due in eight hours. Cumulatively I had enjoyed 6 hours sleep in the last two nights, not due to late nights in Havanna’s but because of the aforementioned essays as well as two exams on Wednesday. I was deliriously tired but also caffeine filled and wide awake. I needed to wind down and I found the perfect solution: Made in Chelsea. Absolutely mind-numbing, I could switch my brain off and just enjoy their insipid conversations and pretty faces.The golden, instagram-filter lighting of every scene (does it ever rain? They are in England, aren’t they?) was easy on my eyes; the plink-plonk of the indie music that soundtracks the characters’ many ‘pondering’ expressions (i.e. blank looks while they strive to remember their next lines) soothed my racing brain. Every minor event was overly explained; nothing was complicated; I didn’t care about Binky or Cheska (I’m not making these names up) or ‘the boys’ - no emotions were felt, no brain cells were strained.Therein lies the appeal of Made in Chelsea – it is visual valium, no thought at all is required. After a long day of lectures, of not understanding what the hell is going on, watching ridiculous people leading their implausible (scripted) lives is like yoga without the effort. Looking to wind down at the end of the day? Grab the beverage of your choice and let the mind-numbing commence.
