So why do we care about Sam from Essex? Is it the jealousy? The schadenfreude? The desire to see him fall in love? Maybe it’s all of that. But I think it’s simpler: he represents a fantasy. A world where problems are solved in 42 minutes, where you can wear a velvet blazer to the supermarket, and where every argument ends in a teary hug at a party.
Sam is the friend you’d totally gossip about, but also the one you’d call at 2 a.m. because you needed a questionable life decision affirmed. He’s messy, loud, and gloriously unapologetic. And as long as he keeps walking into those restaurants with that smirk, I’ll keep watching.
So here’s to you, Sam. For the drama, the gym selfies, and for reminding us that being a bit of a lad—or lass—isn’t always a bad thing. Stay orange, my friend.
