Ten of the Best - Middle Classes At Work And Play 1900-2000: The MC garden party a la Bridget Jones’ bunny faux pas

The middle classes are known for their eccentricities and this clip, filmed sometime during the 1910s, proves that this has always been the case. What appears to be happening is a fancy dress competition for the whole family, which has been organised to military precision and where no one seems to be having fun - quintessentially British then.

A procession of seemingly random groups of fancy dressers passes by the crowd, and we can assume there is no theme because in the parade is everything from Little Bo Peep to two baby minstrels in full black face. Charmingly, this sort of thing drew huge crowds once upon a time, but now we make every effort to avoid any kind of fancy dress involvement.

Garden parties can be awkward, and adding fancy dress into the mix can cause disaster – we’ve all seen Bridget Jones. However, it’s good to know that dressing up was once a wholesome family activity before drunken teenagers and hen parties went and ruined it for everyone.

HOW TO BE MIDDLE-CLASS: BEING UNABLE TO RESIST WHSMITH AT THE AIRPORT

Although departure lounge shopping is popular, the individual shops shopped at are a matter of taste. True, most men find it hard to resist a look in Dixons, few women can resist Boots and most people have at least a browse in the big duty free, but still; these still feel like a choice.

The exception, the shop that is virtually a public utility in airports, is of course WHSmith. For all classes, getting a few things here is more or less a legal requirement.

These are the items the MCs just can’t resist buying from the airport WHSmith:

Magazines
In most cases destined to be lightly read and left on the plane, although in some cases the magazine will be bought as a treat and kept to be read through the holiday. Keepers include: Vogue, Word, The Spectator, The New Statesman, Top Gear, Wallpaper.

Newspapers
Destined to be barely read. “What did you buy the Telegraph for, David? It’s too big to open, and the Mail’s free.”

Haribo
While sweets are unhealthy and therefore frowned upon by the MCs, the WHSmith plane shop is all about indulgence and suspension of the usual rules. Thus, a bag of sweets is acceptable – all the more so because it can be used to keep the kids quiet, and sweets still have a residual sense of a sort-of health benefit in that sucking them is supposed to stop one’s ears popping.

Water
Because drinking lots of water on flights is good for you, as everyone knows. However, as WHSmith annoyingly sells only the 1-litre, this means buying either one bottle and not having enough, or two and leaving one half-full on the plane. Tch.

Very large pack of chewing gum
Almost always mint, and bought for utilitarian and aesthetic reasons. Planes are stale, stinky places and the food on planes could leave even a grizzly bear wishing to refresh itself orally, so some breath-freshening will be in order. And anyway, those dinky pots are so pleasing.

Books
If they don’t have time to visit the proper bookshop, or if said proper shop doesn’t have the one they want. “You’d think Books Etc would have had bloody Stalingrad! I had to go back to Smiths!”

Mini fans
Knowing those moments of airport retail madness only too well, Smiths is adept at cunningly offering small gadgets that hold the promise of cool, poised, controlled travelling. And with a fan to keep you literally cool – well! Will be used several times on plane, then on beach until it runs out of batteries, and thereafter will see out its time being pushed further and further back in the kitchen Bits drawer.

CHATTERING CLASS: This week's Great British banter

Oat milk

Maximum virtuous misery points available

"Totes" and "onesie" added to the OED

Devastating

Cassava crackers

The middle-class nibble du jour

Try putting the emphasis on "are" of "how are you?"

It sounds more sincere. (NB. only try this if prepared for a genuine answer)

Anything 24/7/365

Annoying x4

Writing "Hello everyone!" or some such first thing in the morning on Twitter

Really not necessary

My Family was not dropped for being too middle-class

We knew it

Fountain pen sales on the rise

Hurrah! Long live the lovely schooly fountain pen

Opening the train carriage window?

Just check first if there's one of those passengers who likes to bicker, and have a response ready

Loud, open-mouthed, squelchy gum chewing

Unacceptable

How to Drive a soft top without looking ridiculous

Convertible ownership is a tricky area for the middle classes. It traditionally feels a little too shouty and flashy for the statement-averse professional. To drive with your hood down on those treasured blue sky days is the social equivalent of loudly guffawing in a quiet restaurant, while swilling down vintage champagne and perhaps even slamming your fist on the table just to rub it in.

Having an overtly good time in this way hasn’t always been encouraged within middle class life, although the largely anonymous arena of Britain’s roads does provide the opportunity for a more subtle sense of fun that perhaps helps explain the unlikely statistic that Britain is in fact the highest consumer of convertible cars per head in Europe.

On the face of it, to buy one is an extraordinarily optimistic purchase for inhabitants of an inclement island in the North Sea. Although at least one benefit of ownership is to be given even greater rein to talk freely and endlessly about current weather patterns.

But on closer inspection, perhaps it isn’t strictly optimism that fuels our enthusiasm for roof down driving – we know the weather here isn’t suited to it and never will be. Instead it seems more likely to be rooted in a ‘stuff and nonsense’ stoicism and cheerful cynicism upon which middle-class families have relied for generations.

To show positivity then towards an expensive item of such evident impracticality and that so overtly prioritises feelgood over function may be instinctively troubling, but the increasing importance and value of life experience both for ourselves and our wider circle give convertibles a powerful counter argument: “we can put the child seat in the back”; “The dog can sit up front with me”; “We’ll use Dad’s car for IKEA”. Memories – and framed photo murals outside the downstairs loo – are made of this.


DOS AND DON'TS

DO be prepared to drive with the hood down in changeable weather. The occasional damp and windswept journey is both agreeably eccentric and eliminates any perception of smugness from your hardtop driving fellow roadusers.

DON’T hurry to fix any dents or imperfections on your hood or bodywork. A malfunctioning electric hood that requires additional manual force each time you use it is merely karmic payback for that blissful weekend you spent in Dorset last September.

DO bemoan its impracticality and silliness whenever it crops up in conversation. The positives are implied in your cheerful castigation and are palpable to anyone listening.

DON’T be tempted with going long on the stereo volume in traffic or town. It may feel like the perfect chance to crank up the Neal Young but it’ll sound better without the self-conscious discomfort once you hit the B roads.

DO litter the interior with top-down driving accessories that cement your car as less vehicle and more lifestyle - a crusty stick of melted sunblock, a baseball cap you got free through work softball, a cracked pair of aviators, a fleece gilet that lives in the backseat.

DON’T call it a rag-top if it’s a metal folding roof – in short, a little knowledge of open-top history goes a long way. Do call it ‘the car’, never ‘the convertible’.

DO drive in winter but you’ll need to balance the merits of a fleeting sensory experience for you with the environmental and financial factors of putting your fan heaters on overdrive. Your call.

Flickr: Chailey

ROCK THE HOUSE DOWN

Is this the most middle class estate agent window in Britain? We think it is, but we don't know for sure. Consequently we would like you to send us your pics via twitter @MiddleClassHB and we will attempt to compile a top 10.