I've a shocking sense of the ridiculous, no one (except hubby) gets it, and it was he who really brought it home today, with "I should have a worn a shirt this isn't t-shirt territory". I'd worn a t-shirt too and I wasn't getting much of the usual licking of my shoes to sell me something- hysterical.
Let's start in England it's pretty straight-forward there. The rule is you can move up or down a class comfortably but no further. i.e. middle-middle you can get rich and move up to upper-middle that's fine but if you marry into the ONE upper class they will give you hell; even moving from upper-middle i.e rich to upper they will smile to your face and laugh behind your back, no matter your riches, for that is what they want your money - to save the old pile - your grandchildren will be accepted. Middle-middle that have slipped to lower class will be eyed with suspicion, laughed at behind their back and not accepted, their grandchildren will be. Simple eh?
It's more complicated here in OZ - it depends on your postcode. We have a nice one, a few minutes' away it's less salubrious. It really hit home years ago when I first arrived here that when I went food shopping after work, in my smart work clothes (ie jacket) in the less smart suburb everyone eyed me with suspicion; even today if a pretty girl in a lovely dress wanders in she looks out of place, doesn't belong. I have certain clothes I wear to go shopping - to avoid hostile stares. Even Hubby wears old clothes.
In the really smart areas to go shopping I can't wear the clothes I wear for my food shopping trips or the ladies in the stores won't even say hello; never mind lick my boots (in most if not all cases). If however, say I've got a good coat or jacket on, one that I bought back in UK perhaps, they can't do enough, same person different perceptions. Exactly the same with hubby. Got it all wrong people. The local Marquis in UK looked like the gardener but spoke in the best cut-glass accent ever.
Oh nearly forgot I used to do medical stats; there was always an idea that profession might affect what illnesses you had, now even then this was seriously old-fashioned, even Victorian and slightly mad I thought. i.e. My dad and one brother were social class one, engineer and architect. Doctors and Lawyers social class 2 (which very oddly went with my dad's assessment of those professions). Other bro had left (boring) engineering career for sales so he was 3NM (non manual) as was I and my mum who was a bookkeeper. Skilled workers were 3N. And E.g Gardeners 2 - can't remember 1 - never met any. As a Marquis did very little I wondered where he fitted in and I often wonder just how they work it out today.
Anybody else got any crazy class stories? I'd love to know how it works in other countries.
Let's start in England it's pretty straight-forward there. The rule is you can move up or down a class comfortably but no further. i.e. middle-middle you can get rich and move up to upper-middle that's fine but if you marry into the ONE upper class they will give you hell; even moving from upper-middle i.e rich to upper they will smile to your face and laugh behind your back, no matter your riches, for that is what they want your money - to save the old pile - your grandchildren will be accepted. Middle-middle that have slipped to lower class will be eyed with suspicion, laughed at behind their back and not accepted, their grandchildren will be. Simple eh?
It's more complicated here in OZ - it depends on your postcode. We have a nice one, a few minutes' away it's less salubrious. It really hit home years ago when I first arrived here that when I went food shopping after work, in my smart work clothes (ie jacket) in the less smart suburb everyone eyed me with suspicion; even today if a pretty girl in a lovely dress wanders in she looks out of place, doesn't belong. I have certain clothes I wear to go shopping - to avoid hostile stares. Even Hubby wears old clothes.
In the really smart areas to go shopping I can't wear the clothes I wear for my food shopping trips or the ladies in the stores won't even say hello; never mind lick my boots (in most if not all cases). If however, say I've got a good coat or jacket on, one that I bought back in UK perhaps, they can't do enough, same person different perceptions. Exactly the same with hubby. Got it all wrong people. The local Marquis in UK looked like the gardener but spoke in the best cut-glass accent ever.
Oh nearly forgot I used to do medical stats; there was always an idea that profession might affect what illnesses you had, now even then this was seriously old-fashioned, even Victorian and slightly mad I thought. i.e. My dad and one brother were social class one, engineer and architect. Doctors and Lawyers social class 2 (which very oddly went with my dad's assessment of those professions). Other bro had left (boring) engineering career for sales so he was 3NM (non manual) as was I and my mum who was a bookkeeper. Skilled workers were 3N. And E.g Gardeners 2 - can't remember 1 - never met any. As a Marquis did very little I wondered where he fitted in and I often wonder just how they work it out today.
Anybody else got any crazy class stories? I'd love to know how it works in other countries.