On Keeping Up Appearances and The Tribes of Worcester

During the summer in Worcester I met with two guys from the US on the trail of the British TV sitcom "Keeping up Appearances". I'm usually quite good with accents, both placing and understanding. However, it was a while before I could catch what these two were talking about. They were brothers and looked liked two people from the Cohen Brothers film Fargo. Anyway, it transpired that they were great fans of "Keeping Up Appearances", and as Hyacinth Bucket, the heroine of the show, collected Royal Worcester (or so they told me) they wanted to check some out. They also told me that many American men strongly identified with Hyacinth's husband, Richard. Apparently, "Keeping Up Appearances" was an unexpected succes in the US, and indeed a sequel was brought out for the "market" there.

One reason I took to these brothers was that their rather curious accents and appearance made me feel quite uneccentric myself. There's nothing better than feeling a bit superior to other people, as Hyacinth Bucket would tell us. These sentiments are going to lead me into some reflections on "The Tribes of Worcester", where I may well touch on the politically incorrect and for which I offer no apology. Before this let me put my reflections into context. The "Big People Problems" (which I could count on one hand) that I've experienced in life have always been with other white middle class people. I've had few problems with people of other religions, races, nationalities, or, for that matter, social class. This may well be the case for most people : your own "social group" is probably the most troublesome to you, even if you aren't yet aware of it.

Last week, whilst in the "Ladies" of a major retailer in Worcester, I overheard a young well-spoken woman say : "I don't want to live in England". This was said in a loud voice, with something of a histrionic gesture. I was curious but resisted asking her why. Nevertheless, the opportunity to do so arose when I found myself next to her on the "down" escalator. She seemed very open to giving her reasons (I like this in people) and identified a number of issues which I would describe as "planning-related", but won't deal with these now. The "reason" for which she seemed to have most passion, was "having to dress like a chav" in order to prevent herself from being "beaten up". In other words, she had to "conform" to a certain "popular culture" in order to fit in, and she didn't feel comfortable about this.

Now it did occur to me during our conversation that I might be dressed like a chav. I'm not really sure what a "chav" is, or how they dress, but felt it might have something to do with wearing a kind of leisure outfit (cargo pants etc) which, as a cyclist, I mostly do. However, I also realised from my manner of speech (and possibly because I'm too old) this young woman did not consider me to be a "chav". In response to her analysis of the pressure of "popular culture", I acknowledged my feeling that there does seem to be some"inverted snobbery" in Worcester. Silently, I also acknowledged to myself that, in certain situations, in might be appropriate for a young well-spoke middle class woman to "unveil" herself as a "chav", for instance by wearing trousers well down her bottom cleavage (which I don't).

Having covered "inverted snobbery", I now want to deal with snobbery of the good-old fashioned sort. Walking along a Worcester street just now, I noticed a lawyer of my acquaintance coming towards me. The people with him looked like local farmers, and I vaguely recognised one man. I could see that the lawyer did not want to speak to me, and he attempted to pass me with the barest of acknowledgement, although there seemed no great urgency about his business, given the manner of his converstion. Its fair to say that I've had some past and prospective horse business with this man, and was I somewhat annoyed by his attitude so I seized the moment. As the "gentleman" passed me I asked him how his horse was, and, when he tried to snub me, asked him whether he'd sold him yet.

The response was negative and by now the man was trying to escape, so in my good loud horsey voice I shouted after him that I'd like to have a look at the horse again, and that I'd give him a call (which I might do). From my perspective, whilst this man thinks of himself as a "horseman", I think of him as a "competitor" (see my earlier blog "On the Importance of Being a Good Punter"). Thus whilst I like the look, and temperament, of the horse he has for sale (which has also won some major show classes), I'm not convinced that this has the robustness of the "worker" for which I'm currently looking. Incidentally, the saying goes that there are three kinds of horses : working horses, show horses, and horses's arses. The other thing is that this man is a lawyer, and I have some acquired prejudice for his "tribe".