Mark Francis Vandelli

The word 'legend' is banded about with too much regularity in my opinion. Somebody retrieves a cat from tree - and they are labelled a legend. A person dies and they are remembered as a legend. Legend this, legend that. NO! Word over use. Not every Tom, Dick or Hamza that happens to carry out noble acts should be bestowed with such a weighty accolade.

However, there is one man, though, who if I am to use a superlative to describe him - although the word legend may be a tad premature - if he continues to entertain Joshua and I (we regularly take extreme delight in his amazing character) in the way that he effortlessly exudes - then I will be compelled to afford him such a status.

The man in question, that I speak about, is called Mark Francis. He first came to my attention from watching the reality TV show that is Made In Chelsea. The most stylish reality programme that celebrates all things wealthy and debonair connected with Chelsea, West London.

When everybody around you is predisposed to money and has been privy to a privileged upbringing it is not easy to stand out from your posh peers. Well, this is where Mark Francis gleams so brightly. This young upper crust gentleman takes any notions that us mere mortals may have on class, snobbery and fine things and delicately smashes them - before expertly demonstrating that having money is one thing, having taste is an entirely different glass of vintage wine. Opulence is probably his middle name and his demeanour more than suggests that he believes that he resides on a higher plain to his acquaintances.

His one liners, quips, and perceptions on a whole host of subjects are simply a fascinating joy to behold. He is the self imposed barometer of the class system. He could spend an afternoon with Royalty from anywhere on the globe and take it in his super refined stride. He probably doesn't even carry cash, and if he did and happened to drop a crisp fifty pound note (straight from the mint) to the floor I doubt that it would perturb him enough to contemplate bending down and creasing his Saville Row tailored trousers. (Perhaps his abiding maid would do so for him).

Educated, multi lingual and a magnificent highbrow man, this chic individual smoothly struts into The Chesterfield Collective Hall of Fame.

Anybody for champagne?

Demola, TCC