Just when I am wondering whether there will ever be any news other than Brexit, salvation has arrived in the form of “society interior designer” (whatever one of those is), Nicky Haslam. Writing in the Daily Torygraph, he recently asked: “How common are you?”
Not very, would be my general answer. I frequent Boyes (the Harrods of the North) on a more or less daily basis. In fact, my little route of Boyes, Savers and Barnitts would, I think, make me positively posh. Especially once you’ve added in all the brown furniture bought from Wombells (sadly not inherited, which might be a bit of a downer from a ‘common’ point of view, but you can’t have everything), and a fondness for fish and chips and mushy peas.
I also know the difference between napkins and serviettes, lavatories and toilets, and looking glasses and mirrors. So I’m not entirely sure that Mr Haslam can teach me much. Especially given that he appears to live in a shrine to All Things Tacky And Tasteless, to judge by the accompanying photograph. He also appears to be wearing a track suit.
However, I can’t resist a bit of self-absorption, so I read on.
And how very shocked I am. For it turns out that he is not interested in the lavatory vs toilet debate. No: he is deliberately setting out to prove that I – and, in fact, most of the people I know – am horribly, shockingly common.
I may not have a cushion with ‘Love’ emblazoned on it, and I can’t remember when I last ate a sorbet. I don’t own a swan or a hedge fund or a palm tree or coloured gumboots, and for some inexplicable reason I have not yet been offered a knighthood. I don’t put the central heating on much, because I have an Aga which heats the house for me. Fortunately I don’t have time to be ill (“being ill” is common), so I need not worry about that one. I needn’t worry about jet lag, either, as I can’t afford to fly anywhere.
These are all points in my favour. However, I do use cash machines (how else is one supposed to obtain cash, I wonder? By mugging someone?) I also wash my hands after using the loo, and have been to The Proms. I also own a scented candle. These things all make me very common. I don’t suppose the fact that it came from L’Occitane makes it any more acceptable.
“Precise tipping” is also out. I initially thought this meant “sorting your rubbish before taking it to Hazel Court”, but this presumably just means I spend too much time at the Tip.
I might start feeling a bit depressed at this point, but it seems that all my friends are condemned too. Farrow and Ball is common, so that covers pretty much everyone I know. Mr Haslam doesn’t mention whether it’s common to have Fake Farrow from Johnstone’s in James Street, so we may in fact all be safe. However, this is cancelled out by listening to Woman’s Hour and wearing a scarf. As for “intensely private people”: well, they’re as common as muck. Unlike the rather less-than-private type of people who appear on reality television in swimsuits, obviously. “Coloured bath towels” are also condemned. I suggest he borrow a teenage daughter with a penchant for white-towel-wrecking cosmetics, before he makes a final decision on this one.
Fortunately it’s not just ordinary York mortals who are afflicted by Common-ness, as Mr Haslam includes “tours of the house” on his list. The Howard family take note.
The fact that Mr Haslam has listed these things on a tea-towel (sorry: drying-up clawth) which his newspaper article is trying to sell is, of course, not in the slightest bit common, tacky or tasteless.
More to the point, though, he has missed so many really important things out. Such as the compulsion to be an hour early when you need to catch a train, as previously detailed in this column. Is this common or not? “Being on time” is, apparently, unacceptable. I would agree with this, because only a mad person would just “be on time” to catch a train (or attend a hospital appointment, while we’re at it) – but where does that leave “being early”?
He’s also very quiet on the subject of church-going. Common or not? We need to know. Given that “being over-woke” is on his list, I would like to think that female clergy and songmen fall into this category.
I also wonder a bit about my Aga. If Henley Regatta is common, why not the Aga? And what about York Races? What about foraging for Yellow Stickered items in the Pavement M&S at the end of the day? He is also suspiciously quiet on the subject of books. To judge by the photograph of his sitting room, I suspect he might think them common. And if that’s the case, common is something I’m more than happy to be.
Just when I am wondering whether there will ever be any news other than Brexit, salvation has arrived in the form of “society interior designer” (whatever one of those is), Nicky Haslam. Writing in the Daily Torygraph, he recently asked: “How common are you?”
Not very, would be my general answer. I frequent Boyes (the Harrods of the North) on a more or less daily basis. In fact, my little route of Boyes, Savers and Barnitts would, I think, make me positively posh. Especially once you’ve added in all the brown furniture bought from Wombells (sadly not inherited, which might be a bit of a downer from a ‘common’ point of view, but you can’t have everything), and a fondness for fish and chips and mushy peas.
I also know the difference between napkins and serviettes, lavatories and toilets, and looking glasses and mirrors. So I’m not entirely sure that Mr Haslam can teach me much. Especially given that he appears to live in a shrine to All Things Tacky And Tasteless, to judge by the accompanying photograph. He also appears to be wearing a track suit.
However, I can’t resist a bit of self-absorption, so I read on.
And how very shocked I am. For it turns out that he is not interested in the lavatory vs toilet debate. No: he is deliberately setting out to prove that I – and, in fact, most of the people I know – am horribly, shockingly common.
I may not have a cushion with ‘Love’ emblazoned on it, and I can’t remember when I last ate a sorbet. I don’t own a swan or a hedge fund or a palm tree or coloured gumboots, and for some inexplicable reason I have not yet been offered a knighthood. I don’t put the central heating on much, because I have an Aga which heats the house for me. Fortunately I don’t have time to be ill (“being ill” is common), so I need not worry about that one. I needn’t worry about jet lag, either, as I can’t afford to fly anywhere.
These are all points in my favour. However, I do use cash machines (how else is one supposed to obtain cash, I wonder? By mugging someone?) I also wash my hands after using the loo, and have been to The Proms. I also own a scented candle. These things all make me very common. I don’t suppose the fact that it came from L’Occitane makes it any more acceptable.
“Precise tipping” is also out. I initially thought this meant “sorting your rubbish before taking it to Hazel Court”, but this presumably just means I spend too much time at the Tip.
I might start feeling a bit depressed at this point, but it seems that all my friends are condemned too. Farrow and Ball is common, so that covers pretty much everyone I know. Mr Haslam doesn’t mention whether it’s common to have Fake Farrow from Johnstone’s in James Street, so we may in fact all be safe. However, this is cancelled out by listening to Woman’s Hour and wearing a scarf. As for “intensely private people”: well, they’re as common as muck. Unlike the rather less-than-private type of people who appear on reality television in swimsuits, obviously. “Coloured bath towels” are also condemned. I suggest he borrow a teenage daughter with a penchant for white-towel-wrecking cosmetics, before he makes a final decision on this one.
Fortunately it’s not just ordinary York mortals who are afflicted by Common-ness, as Mr Haslam includes “tours of the house” on his list. The Howard family take note.
The fact that Mr Haslam has listed these things on a tea-towel (sorry: drying-up clawth) which his newspaper article is trying to sell is, of course, not in the slightest bit common, tacky or tasteless.
More to the point, though, he has missed so many really important things out. Such as the compulsion to be an hour early when you need to catch a train, as previously detailed in this column. Is this common or not? “Being on time” is, apparently, unacceptable. I would agree with this, because only a mad person would just “be on time” to catch a train (or attend a hospital appointment, while we’re at it) – but where does that leave “being early”?
He’s also very quiet on the subject of church-going. Common or not? We need to know. Given that “being over-woke” is on his list, I would like to think that female clergy and songmen fall into this category.
I also wonder a bit about my Aga. If Henley Regatta is common, why not the Aga? And what about York Races? What about foraging for Yellow Stickered items in the Pavement M&S at the end of the day? He is also suspiciously quiet on the subject of books. To judge by the photograph of his sitting room, I suspect he might think them common. And if that’s the case, common is something I’m more than happy to be.
Add a comment