Is Jamie Laing, great-great grandson of Sir Alexander Grant, inventor of the McVitie’s digestive biscuit, the busiest man in Britain? He runs three businesses, presents two weekly podcasts, hosts the Radio 1 teatime slot four days a week, has just moved house and is preparing for the arrival of his first baby. His ankle is still sore from the 150-mile run he did for Comic Relief in March, raising more than £2 million in the process, and now he and his wife of two years Sophie Habboo are filming a six-part fly-on-the-wall series for Disney+.
He arrives flustered for our interview at his office in Marylebone. This is The Sweet Factory, a big building tucked away down a mews – Crittall glass doors, big sofas and so many jars of pick ’n’ mix it could kill a diabetic. From here, Laing presides over his growing empire: confectionery business Candy Kittens upstairs, podcast studios downstairs. But he has lost the keys to his new West London house, which he and Habboo only moved into last night (his next-door neighbours are David and Samantha Cameron, more on which later). A locksmith has been called.
‘I’m sorry I look like I’ve been to the gym,’ he says breathlessly, in his black New Balance T-shirt, shorts and trainers. ‘I haven’t been to the gym. We’ve just moved in, and then the keys, and Sophie had to get up at 4am to get to the airport for a wedding this morning, and we were hosting a King’s Trust thing yesterday, and it was… honestly… I wanted to throw up at some points. But I’m much better now.’
Shirt, Percival. Trousers, Carter Young
Laing collapses into an armchair in the weary manner of someone who hasn’t sat down for several days, before he looks at me and panic crosses his face. ‘I’m so sorry,’ he says, instantly sitting forward again, ‘I haven’t even asked. Do you want tea? Coffee? Sweets?’
I’m fine, I tell him, feeling vaguely motherly towards this 36-year-old human whirlwind.
The cameras will follow Laing and Habboo for the next few months, right up until their first baby arrives later this year. In recent episodes of their hit podcast (originally NearlyWeds, then NewlyWeds, now NearlyParents), they’ve already discussed pregnancy constipation, how little sex they’re having (none since they found out Habboo was pregnant) and mucus plugs (‘like bloody cottage cheese’ Habboo’s sister has warned her). What else can the couple possibly share?
‘When we record a podcast, we only have an hour and a half, two hours. Disney is going to be everything,’ Laing stresses. The production team has only been filming them for two days, he adds, ‘but Sophie has already cried on camera. And they were like, “This is golden!”’
The show almost certainly will be golden, as they are quite the golden couple. In the week we meet, a video clip of the pair dancing on the staircase at Buckingham Palace during a reception for The King’s Trust with the King and Queen has gone viral. Habboo’s bump is clearly visible, and reports have claimed that this was a deliberate mocking of the clip Meghan Markle uploaded a few weeks earlier, of her dancing in her hospital room with Prince Harry when heavily pregnant with her daughter Lilibet. Laing’s eyes widen incredulously at the suggestion it was a snub. ‘I hadn’t even seen the Meghan Markle video!’
Suit, Strellson. Shirt, Moss
Their podcast has been downloaded millions of times since it launched three years ago. The pair have 2.5 million Instagram followers between them and are regularly papped in the street. They’re hanging out with the royals and have now moved into that new house – a big swanky property in London’s North Kensington. They have yet to meet their famous neighbours, but Laing did spot Samantha coming out of her house. He was ‘too nervous’ to introduce himself and ran back inside. (He’s going to take them a cake soon.)
Laing and Habboo are now essentially a brand. ‘They could be the next Beckhams,’ a source tells me, of their combined star power.
They’ve come a long way since meeting on the show where it all began, Made In Chelsea. Laing joined the second series in 2011 when he was just 22. His first scene was filmed at Stansted Airport, where co-star and best pal Spencer Matthews picked him up from a flight. Laing had been running with the bulls in Pamplona but had been summoned back to the UK on account of his finances. ‘My bank manager’s breathing down my neck, mate,’ Laing told Matthews, ‘so I had to take this budget airline back.’
‘Low!’ laughed Matthews.
‘So low,’ Laing quipped back.
Jamie finishing his 150-mile Comic Relief ultra marathon in March
It’s slightly embarrassing public-schoolboy stuff. Not long afterwards I interviewed the whole cast in a London hotel suite, where Laing bounced around the bedroom in boxer shorts and a pair of red heels. ‘Let’s get acid! Let’s get coke! Let’s get porn on the TV!’ he joked. The show (still running now) was slated by many for being absurd and obnoxious, but it was obvious even then that Laing was a born entertainer, naturally funny and charming, with a cheeky-chappie persona that made him very watchable. While other cast members drifted in and out, Laing starred in it for a decade.
He was paid ‘about’ £12,000 a season, so we’re not talking a footballer’s salary, but for someone so desperate to become a presenter that, as a small boy, he lined up his teddies to interview them, being on telly was manna. Inevitably, however, the show’s demands on his personal life and the endless partying took its toll, and by 26 he was lonely. ‘I was a let-down to my friends and family,’ Laing says of this period. ‘I stopped caring about them. All I wanted to do was focus on what made me happy, like going out and having fun.’
There’s a scene in his 2022 memoir, I Can Explain, where he details an appearance he and Matthews made at a nightclub in Reading around this time, so drunk they could barely see. Matthews goes on stage first, shovelling a burrito into his mouth that spills down his shirt; Laing goes on stage after him and is booed. The seediness of it is palpable. These days, when early series of Big Brother and Love Island are seen in a different light and accused of being cruel and irresponsible, would he say the same of Made In Chelsea?
‘It wasn’t their responsibility if we were consuming alcohol,’ Laing says, shrugging.
But you were only given these opportunities and appearing at clubs because of the show, I counter. Was there no duty of care?
Blazer, John Lewis. Trousers, Zara. Sunglasses, Eye Club
‘I think it’s important for shows to make sure you can deal with the fame and make sure you understand the risks, but your lifestyle choices aren’t up to the show,’ he replies.
His refusal to blame anyone else for his behaviour feels strikingly refreshing in this ‘not my fault’ age. Laing apologised to his family and friends; he went to see a therapist. He still sees a therapist. ‘I would love everyone to have access to a therapist, it’s helped me in so many more ways than I can ever explain.’
On the subject of Matthews, I venture, can we chat about the rumours they’ve fallen out? I trot through the theories – that Matthews was saddened not to have been invited to Laing and Habboo’s first wedding in the UK in 2023; that Matthews subsequently behaved badly at the couple’s second wedding in Spain a month later; that Matthews was annoyed by Laing’s recent Comic Relief run, because extreme athletic stunts have become his ‘thing’ (last year Matthews ran 30 marathons in 30 days across the Jordanian desert) and he feels as if Laing is encroaching on his territory.
Laing laughs at this faintly childish list of accusations, but then goes into a long and perhaps ‘doth protest too much’ spiel. ‘Look, what can I say? I love Spencer, I really love him so much, and I don’t think he’d mind me saying this… um… look, Spencer’s a hard person to be friends with. We were thick as thieves for a long time, but I think what happens is family and life. From my side, I have no jealousy towards him whatsoever. I only love and adore him more than anything in the entire world. I still consider him one of my closest friends and I’m godfather to his daughter. But, yeah… I mean… you would have to ask him.’
A moment later he repeats the same sentiment – ‘I adore him, but you have to ask him what he feels.’ So something has happened between them, clearly. ‘But friendships aren’t necessarily linear,’ I offer, in a vaguely consolatory way. Laing nods.
Jamie dancing with his wife Sophie at Buckingham Palace
Tellingly, according to someone who hung around in the same gang when they were all teenagers, their old group of friends are delighted for Laing’s success, but they don’t feel the same towards Matthews. Laing simply seems to have a charm and authenticity that doesn’t come to Matthews as easily. It’s not hard to see how this could cause friction as Laing’s star rises and rises.
It’s been an interesting trajectory because these days posh boys are usually mocked and sneered at. Laing has had plenty of that. He was dubbed ‘too posh’ for Radio 1 years before landing the gig. ‘Posh t**t’, ‘posh w****r’, ‘irritating posh boy’ – he’s heard them all before.
To be fair, he is enormously privileged. His dad Nicholas is the founder of luxury travel company Steppes Travel and was an officer in the Scots Guards. His mum Penny gave up a job in recruiting in the City to move to the country. Laing grew up in a nine-bedroom house in Gloucestershire before his parents divorced and he and his mum moved to a house in Kensington, then went to boarding school at Radley College. His fees and Leeds University accommodation were covered by the remnants of the fortune amassed by his great-great-grandfather, who helmed the McVitie’s biscuit empire. He still wears a gold signet ring on his little finger and chants his family motto within a second when I ask what it is (the Latin translates as ‘stand sure’). In many ways, he’s a classic Richard Curtis character – the sort of man who says, ‘Whoopsie daisy’.
But there’s also a sense that this reputation is what he’s been striving to overcome in the past few years, metamorphosing from posh-boy-in-posh-TV-show to national-treasure-in-training. Perhaps the rehabilitation started with Strictly Come Dancing in 2020, when he reached the final. Perhaps it’s thanks to multiple appearances on other TV shows including The Great Celebrity Bake Off and Celebrity Gogglebox.
Suit, Strellson. Shirt, Moss. Trainers, Russell & Bromley
He’s earned respect by talking about the panic attacks and anxiety he suffered in his 20s and encouraging other men to talk about their mental health. He gets regular laughs by being candid and funny about his relationship with Habboo in their podcast.
And then, just three months ago, Laing ran 150 miles across the UK, becoming tearful at various points, which won yet more hearts and minds. Probably it’s all of the above – a long slog but, hey, it took Beckham many years to win us over again after that 1998 red-card kick at the World Cup, didn’t it?
Laing and his business partner Edward Williams launched Candy Kittens in 2012 with £3,000. It’s the fastest growing sweets company in the UK and a bag of Candy Kittens is now sold every 3 seconds. His production company, JamPot, makes both Laing’s podcasts (he also hosts Great Company, about entrepreneurship) and various others, including Paloma Faith’s Mad, Sad & Bad. ‘But right now we’re moving into all media. We want to do TV, film, podcasting, everything, because I think media and content are going to be exploding. Exploding!’
His third business, Tuckshop, is a consultancy for influencers looking to grow their brand. ‘We believe that content creators are going to be the next business owners, because they have all these followers. Rather than paying Sydney Sweeney to be the face of Chanel, Sydney Sweeney is going to set up her own Chanel,’ he offers, by way of explanation.
Given that Chanel is a heritage brand worth £11 billion, this seems optimistic, but I tell him Sweeney indeed has a new business, selling her bathwater in limited edition bars of soap, called Sydney’s Bathwater Bliss (the £5.90 bar sold out in seconds last month).
‘You see, I think that’s genius!’ he cries.
There are moments during this conversation when it feels as if I’m talking to a contestant on The Apprentice.
‘So Tuckshop is sort of Murdoch meets Alan Sugar?’ I muse, as Laing talks me through his grand plan for world domination.
‘Murdoch meets Alan Sugar meets Willy Wonka meets Peter Pan!’ he shoots back happily.
The internet says he and Habboo are worth £11 million, I tell him. Is that true? Laing pulls a face that suggests this is very silly. Aside from a ‘modest’ salary to cover the mortgage on his new house (others on the same street have sold for around £4 million), ‘everything goes back into the business’.
He gets up at around 5.30am, goes to the gym, heads into the office, might record a podcast, has meetings, heads into Radio 1, comes back to the office for more meetings, then gets home at about 8.30pm if he isn’t out for dinner.
‘It’s a lot,’ he says, before crediting a tincture prescribed by his homeopath sister, Natasha, with helping him feel less stressed in the past three months.
Homeopathic? Come on, I tell him, you’ve been hanging out with the King too much.
‘I swear to you! It realigns your body, so when you’re feeling stressed, you can actually think clearer.’ Contrary to Habboo’s continual joking on their podcast, Laing insists he doesn’t have Botox and waggles his blond eyebrows at me to prove it.
He and Habboo know the sex of their baby but they’re keeping schtum. Will he take paternity leave when Baby Laing arrives? ‘I don’t know,’ he says, looking alarmed for a second, as if he hasn’t considered it. ‘I think I probably will.’ He may have to slow down a bit, I suggest. ‘My vision is to work as hard as I possibly can for the next ten years and then reassess.’
In the meantime, he’s madly busy but happy. ‘I went for so many years trying to please other people, and I don’t feel I have to do that any more. And also, going from being a reality star who everyone thought was a piece of s**t to getting back to some form of credibility… yeah, I feel excited about life. I feel excited about life because babies and friends are great, and my family are OK at the moment, touch wood, and, yeah, I just feel very, very lucky.’
He glances down at his phone and then guiltily at me, saying, ‘I’m so sorry, do you mind if I get this?’ before speaking into it: ‘Hey, I’m so sorry, will you give me ten minutes and I’ll be straight back on the call?’
Laing presses a branded Candy Kittens tote heaving with sweets into my hands because he’s a nice, polite, well brought-up boy, then says goodbye and rushes off for his next meeting. Mr Busy, back to work.
Listen to NearlyParents and Great Company wherever you get your podcasts
THE LAING AND SHORT OF IT
Idea of holiday hell
A summer holiday when it rains.
Spotify song of last year
Stargazing by Myles Smith.
Last photo you took and sent to someone
One of Sophie making King Charles laugh. I sent it to her family.
Movie that makes you cry
Hachi.
Cat or a dog person?
Dog.
Astrology: believe it or bin it?
Believe it.
AI: terrific or terrifying?
Both.
Best breakfast
Porridge with salt on top.
Website you spend too much time on
Google.
Last thing you lost
Our car! It was in the pound. Oh, and my house keys!
