A DIY Guide to the Middle-Classes
I wonder sometimes what I am. I have lived the last decade on an inner city council estate, amid Oxford academia, in a remote country town and in London suburbia. In the first we were, with our relentless consonants and sagging bookshelves, regarded as aristocrats. In the second, as the 'squeezed middle'. In the third, as city sophisticates and now, sometimes, isolated in my tweed amid the Ralph Lauren and the hoodies, I feel myself a bumpkin. Class should no longer matter. Nowadays, for most of us, it's more a question of perception than birth. But the perception matters. My daughter battles to adjust speech, habits and dress to blend in with each new environment; the political parties compete to woo the amorphous throng they deem Middle England and Melvyn Bragg has started a television series on class and culture. The British, he decides, no longer define themselves by class, but by the music they listen to, the books they read. I listen to Dolly Parton and Beethoven....
Damien the Omen child was alive and well and living in a box - surpriseeeee!
ReplyDeletedon't you know how much it cost to have a shoebox flat in Central London? we just like minimal living
ReplyDeleteI know the vicarage isn't quite what we're used to, darlings, but the C of E has to find savings somewhere
ReplyDeleteBest. Review. Package. Ever.
ReplyDeleteMWHAHAHA mere mortal you cannot keep my prisoner in this box ! Go go gadget laser eyes!
ReplyDeleteAfter three days in the dark, the stowaways were just grateful that someone had opened the box!
ReplyDeleteif they stayed really quiet then they wouldn't be made to eat Mums all day breakfast!!!!
ReplyDeletedon't think this was such a great christmas present mum!
ReplyDeleteAfter receiving so many unneeded Christmas presents, we decided to return the children.
ReplyDelete