Saturday, December 29, 2007
The East Dulwich Dullie
I have been trying extremely hard to put my finger on the nouveau middle class and it exists right under my nose - snobbery, questionable liberal politics, insufferable parents, ponsification, boredom, bullshit, ersatz rusticity, gobshite, cheese shops, the Guardian Newspaper and M & S. In the past ten years, these buggers have descended on the enclave of East Dulwich, a frontier town - some blacks but not too many, ideal for the liberal couple who will not feel that they will have their personal values compromised by the unpleasant activities which are perpetrated by street gangstaz.
They can have their cheese shop, deli, organic butcher with sourced (great bullshit word to pander to the Dullie) produce (another bullshit word).
Every so often I go shopping in Sainsbury's in Dog Kennel Hill; it's like going to the baboon enclosure of a safari park - it's full of fucking Dullies!. Their behaviour and conduct leaves much to be desired - they don't give a shit for their fellow Dullies let alone a rent-paying pleb like me. They barge their trolley in front of you expecting you to get out of the fucking way. Barging in front of you when you are looking at items on the shelves - no "excuse me" nothing. They're completely vicious.
I went to a party thrown by a Dullie, the conversation was around house prices, design and how fucking nice their how looked, how fucking clever their horrible children are, the exclusive schools they're attending; the holidays off the beaten track; all the vacuuous shallow bullshit. The conversation had as much humour and wit as a motto on a Christmas Cracker. It was so dull that a stink bomb would not have gone amiss at said party. I got so bored, bored, bored, that I left the party buggered off home and watched the telly.
Catherine Tate gives a very funny example of a Dullie, here it is:
Read about one Dullie's unfortunate experience of having to suffer the indignity of travelling on a bus and coming up close to one of the great unwashed
Also have a look at this interminable video - it is a Dullie with a Camcorder showing us around her new home.
They can have their cheese shop, deli, organic butcher with sourced (great bullshit word to pander to the Dullie) produce (another bullshit word).
Every so often I go shopping in Sainsbury's in Dog Kennel Hill; it's like going to the baboon enclosure of a safari park - it's full of fucking Dullies!. Their behaviour and conduct leaves much to be desired - they don't give a shit for their fellow Dullies let alone a rent-paying pleb like me. They barge their trolley in front of you expecting you to get out of the fucking way. Barging in front of you when you are looking at items on the shelves - no "excuse me" nothing. They're completely vicious.
I went to a party thrown by a Dullie, the conversation was around house prices, design and how fucking nice their how looked, how fucking clever their horrible children are, the exclusive schools they're attending; the holidays off the beaten track; all the vacuuous shallow bullshit. The conversation had as much humour and wit as a motto on a Christmas Cracker. It was so dull that a stink bomb would not have gone amiss at said party. I got so bored, bored, bored, that I left the party buggered off home and watched the telly.
Catherine Tate gives a very funny example of a Dullie, here it is:
Read about one Dullie's unfortunate experience of having to suffer the indignity of travelling on a bus and coming up close to one of the great unwashed
Also have a look at this interminable video - it is a Dullie with a Camcorder showing us around her new home.
Labels: bullshit, East Dulwich, M and S, sainsbury's, snobbery, snobs, snootiness, snooty, stuck-up, the middle class
Saturday, December 08, 2007
Snobbery is back with a vengance
There is a lot of snob value in the French Language. GCSE O Level is spoken and understood by only those who have learned it. Trust me, I have been to France on numerous occasions and my O Level French is always met with the incredulity that I may as well be speaking Classical Hebrew. I tried this tack in Paris, I spoke O Level French through the nose and successfully got une biere, une chambre dans l'hotel, un cafe.
When I read Tolstoy's War and Peace, the main characters were conversing with each other in French; it was Tolstoy's mechanism that the aristocracy and rich people separated themselves from the Russian Plebs. The richest irony in the book is that the Napoleonic Army invades the land and poses this class under immediate threat.
I was in Dulwich today, discovered that a hairdresser was called "Coiffure" and a baby accessory shop called Jojo Maman Bébé. (Who the fuck is Jojo?, the erstwhile Dad who's done a bunk on the child maintenance?) There is a burgeoning snob community in East Dulwich. Anything like this would pander to this breed of people who are no doubt New Model Parents, M & S shoppers and all the bullshit which comes with them.
When I read Tolstoy's War and Peace, the main characters were conversing with each other in French; it was Tolstoy's mechanism that the aristocracy and rich people separated themselves from the Russian Plebs. The richest irony in the book is that the Napoleonic Army invades the land and poses this class under immediate threat.
I was in Dulwich today, discovered that a hairdresser was called "Coiffure" and a baby accessory shop called Jojo Maman Bébé. (Who the fuck is Jojo?, the erstwhile Dad who's done a bunk on the child maintenance?) There is a burgeoning snob community in East Dulwich. Anything like this would pander to this breed of people who are no doubt New Model Parents, M & S shoppers and all the bullshit which comes with them.
Labels: Class, consumerism, french language, snob, snobbery
