Thursday, 22 December 2011

Why I sometimes need to get over myself.

I'm not a snobby person. Not really. And I don't particularly like snobby people. However, despite being raised in what I would call a modestly working class family, I seem to have picked up a few rather snobby traits that cause my boyfriend and friends to tease me mercilessly.

Just to clarify, I come from well-off to very humble beginnings. I've lived in a decent sized house, surrounded by racehorses, a live-in nanny and a living-room that resembled the inside of Hamley's on Christmas Day. But I've also lived in a house so ridden with damp and condensation, that the four of us all slept in the living room huddled around a gas fire. My point is that I was brought up well. To appreciate the value of a hard days work, to never take material things for granted and to respect those who deserve it regardless of race, skin colour or creed.

I can still be a bit of a snob though. Here are a few examples:

Plastic bags. Sometimes you need to drop something off at a friends. Or you want to give them something to take away with them after they have visited you. And the easiest vessel for them/you to carry such a thing? Well, a plastic bag of course. But what kind of plastic bag is of utmost importance. Supermarket shopping bags go straight in the bin (when we get them, we do tend to use reusable cotton bags now, honest). No family member of mine will be seen walking down the road carrying a Tesco or Asda carrier bag. It just looks schemie. And before you all jump on me for that definition, I have lived in a council estate and there is nothing wrong with it. It's just my snobbiness has no rationale. So anyone wanting to borrow a top from me will always receive it in a nice brown paper Whole Foods bag or at the very least a half decent Next bag. God forbid an Aldi bag makes it into the bag cupboard. My boyfriend finds this both hilarious and silly. However, his Mum does exactly the same. So maybe he should spend less time concentrating on my irrational characteristics and worry about how Freudian his girlfriend choice actually is. In fact, I might point that out to him next time he teases me for sending someone away with some leftover stew in a Clarins box bag.

I am snobby about food. Mainly chippy food. And I love chippy food. I especially love a smoked sausage supper. However I point blank refuse to go in and order such a thing myself. I used to make one ex-boyfriend go in and order it for me. It was either that or I ordered fish and then ate his sausage. He soon learned.

I used to be pretty snobby about using the C word. To the point where my friends would over-use it to an uncouth level simply to wind me up. Unfortunately the older I get the more I am realising that I am really not that much of a lady. And sometimes (and this is very rare for me), when you are so angry, so incensed and so desperate to let off steam, no other word will do. I still wince a little when I see a pretty girl using really foul language. I'm a girly girl in that sense.

One word: tinsel. I hate the stuff. I think it is tacky and makes Christmas look like an afternoon at Butlins. I'd burn the stuff. Every single last bit given half a chance. Sorry to all you readers staring at your tinselised tree with an offended stare. Its just a thing of mine. I hate tinsel.

Now here's the one that might upset a few people. I'm snobby about certain jobs. I wouldn't work in a supermarket, or a chip shop, or in McDonalds. NOW before you all go off on one I want to make something very clear. There is NOTHING wrong with working in any of the above places. ABSOLUTELY NOTHING. Particularly McDonalds (McDonalds staff, I salute you, you work very hard to bring a lot of pleasure to people the world over, particularly me). No, this snobbiness of mine is more a personal thing. You see, I worked my ass off and got myself in alot of debt to get an honours degree. An honours degree that as of yet I have still not used. And so if I got a job in any of these places (and a job's a job, particularly in this day and age), I would be constantly kicking myself everytime I saw that bit of my student loan come off my paycheck. Asking myself why I bothered with all that hard work in the first place. When I'm 50 and want a quiet life and a little part time paycheck coming through every week, I'll be the first person asking if you want salt and vinegar. Just not right now.

There is one thing that I used to be snobby about and I have discovered (by growing up) that I was just downright wrong. I used to look down on people who didn't seem to 'want more' from life. I have travelled to a fairly extensive level, worked hard on a university education and despite coming from a small town background, made absolutely sure that I experienced as much city life as possible. I used to look incredulously at people who wanted to live in a small town their whole life with no taste for the big smoke. Laugh at people I considered small minded because they had no interest in travel. And feel sorry for the girl, who from the age of 16, only ever wanted to have kids and a part time job in Spar. But what I have learned is that not everyone is like me. Not everyone is the same. People want different things in life. And who am I to judge someone just because they don't want the same things as me?

It's like a good buffet. There are those who just fill their plate with a bit of the things they like. Whereas I, on the other hand, need to have a bit of everything. No morsel or piece of food left unsampled. An innate fear I have had since childhood of somehow missing out on something. While the person with the plate full of stuff they know they like will enjoy their food without doubt. Sometimes I end up left with a bad taste in my mouth. So that little bit of snobbery was pure snobbery. And I am over that now.

I hope this searingly honest blogpost hasn't given people the wrong impression. I am sure we all have our little foibles. And I really am a nice person.


1 comment:

Gia said...

Firstly, I love this line: "So maybe he should spend less time concentrating on my irrational characteristics and worry about how Freudian his girlfriend choice actually is. Great

And I read something interesting once about the occupy movement, and the idea that young people are acting entitled. I can't remember it verbatim, but the premise was pretty much like "We tell kids they need to work hard so they wont end up working at McDonalds. So they go to college but now there's no jobs and we're mad at them for NOT taking the job at McDonalds." It's interesting. A good degree and ambition doesn't guarantee success anymore, which is kinda sad...