One of the world?s biggest myths, other than that you can see the Great Wall of China from space, and that the composer of the Last of the Summer Wine theme tune also wrote for S Club 7, is that the middle classes are dull. This is quite patently not true. There is never a dull moment when you are middle-class. It is fraught with problems, strewn with obstacles and abundant with hurdles. At times, it seems like a never-ending rollercoaster of Boden catalogues, Farrow & Ball paint and Ocado deliveries.
- Concern over whether to reveal that you studied History of Art at university ? or worse, as I did, at A-level. Because people don?t understand that, far from being a subject for stupid Sloanes, it involves in-depth critical analysis, just like English Literature. Except with pictures.
- Endless worry that, despite having studied the history of art, everything you like culturally seems to involve Michael McIntyre, Coldplay or Stieg Larsson. Just why are people so pompous about them?
- And about whether you put paper in the plastic recycling bin. Well, did you? You probably did.
- Having a lengthy internal debate about whether you should send a thank-you note in reply to a thank-you note.
- Feeling guilty that you didn?t buy the Big Issue from the man outside the station. Or being unable to sleep at night because you were embarrassed into signing up to a charity by a chugger outside Peter Jones, only to feel angry that you were embarrassed into it, causing you to cancel the standing order. Which makes you feel bad.
- The endless worry that there is nothing immediate to worry about.
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Some very middle-class people have opened a very middle-class bar in the very middle-class neighbourhood that is Battersea ? or South Chelsea, as we middle-class residents like to call it. Described as ?an Englishman?s Italian?, it features pizza, karaoke and ? according to rumours the other week ? Prince Harry (not terribly middle-class, but hordes of middle-class girls, myself included, will flock there to get a glimpse of him). And the name of the place? Bunga Bunga. Frankly, it?s a wonder it took so long.
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Most women have had to endure the gentle mockery of men for hiding behind a cushion/handbag/the man himself during a horror movie. But now a theory has emerged as to why women get more scared than their male counterparts. Researchers at the UCL Institute of Cognitive Neuroscience found that we become more frightened because we are more likely to anticipate the terrifying scenes that lie ahead. In other words, we?re more intelligent.
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