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This is a question Posh

My dad's family are posh - there's at least one knight and an ex-lord mayor of london. My mum's family come from Staines.

How posh are you? Who's the poshest person you've met? Be proud and tell us your poshest moments.

(, Thu 15 Sep 2005, 10:12)
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This question is now closed.

I am not posh
However, I have a rediculously posh voice and a rediculously large penis... errr* vocabulary and it scares some people. Just like my penis.

Proof of un-poshness:
I drink coke from the bottle. No, not the little ones. 2L bottles.
I fart alot.
Thats about it.

Although I do own a pipe, monicle and a fez.

*see? At least I put the penis comment in the actual body of the text...
(, Sat 17 Sep 2005, 18:42, Reply)
Posh as fsck
A family tree which goes back earlier than 1066.... A family name which is so posh its spelling changed over the centuaries (a "quer" in the middle becoming the more English "ker")

A genuine ancestor called "Baldrick".

A (great)^n Uncle being Ethelred the Unready.

A few misc royalty splintering off the tree (how embarassing).

And more illegitimacy in the line than you could shake a stick at.

Oh, and always ALWAYS port out & starboard home ....
What more do you need?
(, Sat 17 Sep 2005, 18:28, Reply)
some royal blood
apparently, as family legend goes, a relative on my mom's side of the family was a gardener for a royal family, who happened to engage in some naughty acts with a daughter of the royals. cue them fleeing to Canada on the risk of death.
(, Sat 17 Sep 2005, 17:51, Reply)
I met a couple of girls in a club the other night.

They told me they were stockbrokers.

I felt a little guilty when they said that as the first thing that came to mind was

'Bet they're loaded!'

(But the guilt lasted only a second).
(, Sat 17 Sep 2005, 16:43, Reply)
the english manager (or there abouts) for plastics internation (window profiles)
bought me a double cheeseburger at a 50's style resturaunt in a place near brum once. that was interesting
(, Sat 17 Sep 2005, 13:16, Reply)
19th Century Nouveau riche
Well, when my dads family were fleeing the Potato Famine in Ireland, my mums family owned quite a few mills in Yorkshire.

They sold the mills at the turn of the Century and invested in a carpet factory in Lancashire.

In the 20's they divested most of their ownership and, with amazingly poor judgement, invested in German industrial manufacturers.

At this time my great great aunt was a senior member of the Royal Academy of Music, and had taught various members of the European Royalty and Elite to play the piano. [She had also attended the wedding of one of Tom Spencers sons. Yes. That Spencer. Of Marks and ...]
[She was a fabulous old matriarch by the time I was a wee lad. She eventually had a leg replaced with a protheses after a stroke, but still insisted on playing the piano!]

In the 1930's, during the ascendancy of Mr. Hitler, my Great Aunt, who would later work for Professor. Alan Turing at Bletchly Park, did the grand tour which was a traditional tour of European capitals by wealthy youngsters when they came out.[Different meaning back then]

By coincidence she actually met Chancellor Hitler, he had just been elected, at a British Embassy function in Berlin. She later referred to him as a nasty little man.

After the war, my mothers family losing most of it's investments because of it, became more middle class owning bakeries and the like.

Their fortunes dwindled during the 70s and 80s.
Having six children per generation made sure of it.

As a young lad I attended my great great aunts 90th birthday. In attendance were lots of posh people whose names I can't remember and a certain Roger Penrose, who was a friend on my great aunts.
[He was quite well known, and I remember getting introduced as the bright progeny who could do maths. However I was far more interested in the sausage rolls than dusty academics and so ran off.]

My great aunt, still in the 80s, received an OBE for her lifetime in education, she was a university lecturer, and received it not from the Queen, who was in some foreign country, but from Prince Charles.

So, I think the poshest people I have met are my spinster great and great great aunts.
(, Sat 17 Sep 2005, 13:15, Reply)
I'm not posh, I'm spoiled:
I've not had a job for 6 months or so, because my fiancés parents think that I shouldn't have to work while I study, and so Mr Wanky's parents have bought us a house, and all the furnishings, and pay all his credit cards for him. In return, all I have to do is finish art school, and carry on talking nicely.
Yeay me!
(, Sat 17 Sep 2005, 13:06, Reply)
I once used a bidet.
(, Sat 17 Sep 2005, 12:24, Reply)
Tales Of The Little Man
My best mate is going out with a lovely lady who is somehow related to Lord and Lady Vardey (as in the owners of babwillions of Reg Vardey car showrooms in the North East). So the time comes when he and the missus are going to visit the posh relatives in their castle, or whatever it is these people live in. So not only is he nervous about making an impression as not being common but also as the boyfriend/prospective husband. Needless to say he's a tad nervous.

As a result his loving older brother starts schooling him in the way of the posh. This mostly consists of every mealtime (regardless of whether he's eating ice cream or fish or whatever) by growling in his plummiest upper class voice "Would you like some ketchup with that little man?!"

Of course this doesn't exactly help and also, of course, was a shocking stereotype. Or not, as it turned out. After their arrival they were making small talk with The Lady waiting for his Lordship to arrive. As they did my mate noticed their fish tank covered in algae, being similar to his own he told Lady Vardey the type of tablets she would need to fix the problem.

The Lady was very grateful and, upon her husbands entrance, exclaimed "Look dear, the nice man has solved the problem with the aquarium!" The Lord also looked pleased and, without so much as acknowledging my mate's existence replied "Capital! Is there any chance he could take a look at the television?"

According to my mate it took all his willpower not to reply in his best Ted voice (that's Ted as in Ted and Ralph from The Fast Show) mumbling at the ground "Its noy my job to be fixing your television sir."
(, Sat 17 Sep 2005, 12:00, Reply)
My mum buys "Quilted" toilet paper, and used to iron our socks and underpants.
(, Sat 17 Sep 2005, 11:14, Reply)
Double Barrels
My surname's a double barrel, but since me & the missus are the end of our respective lines, we thought it might be a Good Thing to keep both names alive. Mucho points from the in laws when we told them that!

Besides my original surname is so short it sounds like a sneeze.

So now my surname is half Hungarian, half Walthamstow, and a significant pain in the cock to spell out to every bastard down the phone.

Ho hum eh?

(, Sat 17 Sep 2005, 11:05, Reply)
Manor house blues
Not exactly family....but could've been!
I went out with a girl from uni who was a bit eccentric. I went out with her for a couple of weeks until she said "come back to my house and I'll show you my paintings."

"yes" I said.

When we finally arrived in sometinshire (cant remember exactly) we went to a petrol station in a small village. I looked onto the horizon and saw a nice looking house. I said "ooh there's a manor house over there!" And of course she replied "I know, that's where I live."
I thought "ace".
A huge 250 roomed house greeted me, as did various house keepers, and an old woman who who looked like Hyacinth Bucket. (Kirstens mother).
Found out my gfriend was daughter to a Lady, relative to someone royal.
The night was awful because she had coincided my visit with her nob friends coming round. Well of course I got lost in the house after drinking 2 bottles of marks and spencer white. I ended up in one of the many toilets. Being sick.

I had a phone call the next day from the LAdy saying she was upset that I had smashed a vase, vomited on a rug, and scratched a period door by falling into a table.
(, Sat 17 Sep 2005, 10:48, Reply)
My grandmother, freshly passed away. bless her
was wonderfully posh. Educated in Switzerland, and her grandfather had some kind of intellectual copyright on Tower Bridge. Always used passive pronouns ("one's just shat oneself," as she got older)

Her choicest posh moment was after my biological grandfather legged it and she remarried an Admiral because "one finds so much good blood among seamen."
(, Sat 17 Sep 2005, 10:36, Reply)
My 80yo mother is posh - or at least she thinks she is.
- She has a glass-cutting telephone voice like Hyacinth Bouquet
- She hates being called by her first name especially by people she considers to be lower class.
- She's fircely racist

When I was about 6 she threw a wobbly in a bakers as the women behind the counter kept calling her "dear".
She said in a load voice "I'm not your dear"!
(I hoped the ground would swallow me up at this point)
"Oh, sorry" said the shoppie "that's all right duck, what can I get you duck?"
I was deeply embarased at the time but now think it's funny.

She claims her grandfather was Constable of Lancaster and owned huge areas around Morecombe Bay. However, her father had 8 kids, blew through two fortunes he inherited and then got himself killed in the war - silly bugger.

As a result, she went from living in a big house with servants to being brought up by a series of "aunts" who spent the family trust allowance on themselves, rather then the kids - as you do.

OTOH she had an obsession with being able to "get away from it all" and insisted that my dad buy a caravan so we could be tortured by his snoring and other evils of camping.

My father's family was quite posh too. My dad adopted one of his "family tradition" christian names to give him (and me) a double-barelled surname (which I dropped as soon as I could).

My mother now lives in the country near Sevenoaks with two mad dogs. Yesterday I got her "dog basket on wheels" back on the road. So if you're in the area and see a blue Citroen ZK covered in dog hair and dents heading towards you - be afraid, be very afraid.
(, Sat 17 Sep 2005, 9:42, Reply)
My only concession to poshness
Since I haven't a drop of noble blood in me (filthy mick-kraut-bohunk that I am)... I will deign to point out that while some of my friends smoke cigarettes and some prefer cigars, I am the only one who actually smokes a pipe. And I happen to have a Peterson in my collection, of which I'm particularly proud. So there.
(, Sat 17 Sep 2005, 9:12, Reply)
The last Lord Hungerford...
lost his entire estate to gambling debts some two centuries ago, and his children and their family scattered to the four winds. A significant number of them made their way to the United States;despite his ancestor's hard luck, the man who would otherwise hold the manor today retains some measure of dignity as a computer engineer in Arizona - and I am proud to have called such a good and decent guy a friend.

Enough of that shite.
(, Sat 17 Sep 2005, 9:09, Reply)
How many southerners does it take to change a lightbulb?
None, we just get a northener to do it.
(, Sat 17 Sep 2005, 7:41, Reply)
Just to pretend to be posh, like everyone else on here
My brother dances with the Royal Ballet. My stepmum works for the ambassador to Belgium and her father WAS the British ambassador to Belgium.
My dad lives in what Channel 4 said was "the best place to live in the UK".
Oh, and I go to the theater quite often, I even wear a dress.

Talk about a load of fucking bollocks.
(, Sat 17 Sep 2005, 5:36, Reply)
Whilst at a Posh boarding School
Friend of mine with the customary double barreled surname went home for a shoot at the weekend. Had some Eastern European royal family staying on the estate.

So they all go off to shoot some animals around the grounds & King Somebody-or-Other disappears from the group, they don't think much of it at the time.

End of the afternoons activities they meet up at the house & are doing a tally - 'I shot 5 rabbits, 14 phesants etc, what did you get?'

In walks the lost King 'Da, fantastish day of ze shooting - I got 40 wild mutton'. Daft bugger had only gone into the farmers' field next door & shot all his sheep. Oh how we laughed.
(, Sat 17 Sep 2005, 3:29, Reply)
Loyal militarist
One guy in my family tree(around 1400) fought with the English against the Irish, the Irish against the English, the French against the English and pretty much with anyone else who was fighting at the time. He was Welsh. He funded the Qwain GlynDwr campain against the English and was captured, and to this day has the highest bail ever issued in Britain, it never got paid!
(, Sat 17 Sep 2005, 3:15, Reply)
My maternal grandma comes from a pro-IRA family. She then proceeded to marry grand-pappa, a colour sergeant in one of the scottish regiments (despite being an east londoner). Then there was some kind of falling out, the IRA sympathisers didn't like her marrying a British soldier, who'd a thought? My dad's family are Jewish immigrants, now the thing about them is that they like to think they're posh but they're not really (and that's the one thing my dad's drilled into me, don't be a rah rah [often accompanied by his immitation of old skool accountants, yeah he's an accountant AND Jewish, who'd a thought?])

Anyway to cut it all down to size, my mum takes the piss out of the way I speak and force feeds me pie and mash (oh the horror (!)). But the poshest person I've ever met IS my darling mother. As I shall now demonstrate:

It was a cold september evening, and she had parked up in a cul-de-sac, all of a sudden out of no where appeared a thousand 'proddy' cars, complete with extra-thin slices of ham. They had surrounded her and there was no escape, closing in on her with their sandwiches, and not just any old sandwiches THEY HAD NO CRUuUuUuUst!!! Then all of a sudden dearest mammas mouth opened and out came the words,
"Oh, I mind, would you AWFULLY mind moving, just it would be oh so very convinient don't you know! You see, the thing is that you're blocking me in, WHAT WHAT!!"
Yes, she actually said 'What what'. But suddenly their ears pricked up at the sound of a fellow presbetarian and possibly even higher up in the chain (due to her use of not one, but TWO 'what's). Suddenly, within about 20 seconds there wasn't a car in site. It was impossible not to burst out with a fit of maniacal laughter halfway through her speech, as laughter would have discredited it.
(, Sat 17 Sep 2005, 0:47, Reply)
Ex Bird
My first girlfriend (when I was 14; she was 16! woo me!) was from a pretty posh family. Her Dad was a surgeon in Sheffield and earned around £95k a year; her Mum was a personell manager at some big company and earned about £50k a year. The ex gf used to earn £50 a week on her part time job and get £100 per week on savings. Her dad gave her £8k when she went to Uni.

Could have had this for last week's QOTW- but their parents had apprently had only eaten take away food once, and had never had fish and chips. I said "bloody hell, someone would think you were one of those southern, Tory pansies" to which I found out that her dad was from London and went to Cambridge uni. Also, he read the Daily Torygraph.

Last I heard of the lass was that she was spending about £100 a week sticking snow up her nose. Too posh for my liking!

Kebab please!

/edit Oh yeah and about four years ago they bought a house in Southport- same street as Steven Gerrad, for £750k and paid the first £500k as a deposit!

/edit II- I also met Charles Clarke last year (just before he became Home Sec.) Since I was one of two politics students at my college, I was asked if I wanted to do a radio interview about Labour's policies and the election campaign that was about to start. I said that I thought New Labour's policies were moving far towards the right and that they are doing all in their power to limit free speech in the country! I have never experienced a moment of irony so much as to when the Radio 1...bloke said to me "Charles Clarke asked me not to include what you said". He did though and I was on the radio! Harr!!! Don't suppose he's seen as terribly posh but he was! Certainly more posh than my Leeds Comprehensive schoolbuddys and I.
(, Sat 17 Sep 2005, 0:28, Reply)
My ex
used to be a nanny for the Cinzano Rossi family
they are rich an posh, she travelled to Monte Carlo, Rome and USA and meet some president.
she had awful tits though.
(, Sat 17 Sep 2005, 0:13, Reply)
Swearing at random strangers
Preferably at railway stations / foreign airports.

This I do for kicks. God and my one-60th-of-Shropshire-owning family, plus of course good old sphincter-stretching public school inflicted on me a completely ridiculous accent. I tried to shake it, but couldn't and now can't be arsed. Especially when I'm drunk I say things like "haice" for "house", "ears" for "yes" and "nehho certainly bloody nort" for "no". I know the ghastly middle-class despises swearing, so whenever I meet an example I cannot stop myself from saying fuck repeatedly, even if it's interviewing me for a job. I love watching in its face the conflict between the desperate urge to doff-cap or tug-forelock and the equally shrill and impetuous desire to inflict upon me its petty, conceited and ghastly little set of values. Canting ruining drivelling snotty bastards.

I can't remember the last time I made myself a meal that wasn't breakfast. I have huge debts because I buy most of my meals at the various eateries of the Fulham road. Also I can't remember the last time I washed any of my clothes. Apart from funerals/weddings, I don't think I've worn a suit since my finals. I get a stiffy when I kill defenseless animals. My father is a baronet and I'm the younger brother so I won't inherit. Fucks me off, that. Fucking "Mr.", indeed, just like some ghastly fat plebeian peonic pick-up-truck-driving shaven-headed squat ugly builder.

This set of attributes and what the odious middle-classes call "value-judgements", and an ancestry that goes back a few hundred years before 1066 means I am as posh as I am repulsive and as aristocratic as I am physically dirty and mentally unhinged.
(, Sat 17 Sep 2005, 0:00, Reply)
My Dad
went to school with the guy from pie in the sky.

and i met someone at leeds festival who claimed to know mackie from hollyoaks, but it turns out the just go to the same uni.

and ive got a blue peter badge.

and my dad also reckons were descended from "the grand old duke of york", maybe we are, or maybe dads delsuional/drunk with power at having the same surname.

beat that
(, Fri 16 Sep 2005, 23:41, Reply)
other bits
oo and my brothers friends with the grandson of the president of mexico, and my aunt used to date bill clinton..weirdly
(, Fri 16 Sep 2005, 23:13, Reply)
Im posh me
1. in 1269 or so someone in our family got knighted by...whichever king that would be
2. we basicly owned a town in yorkshire for 100years
3. we have at least four sirs in the last centuary
4. one of my uncles is head of an oxford college
hmm, all i can think of right now, how boring
(, Fri 16 Sep 2005, 22:56, Reply)
La Gavroche
Several points about me:
1. I am from Barnsley.
2. I married wwwwwwwwwwway above my station.
3. My mother-in-law is so posh that when we put the bitch in a home, she bought the place chandeliers for the sitting rooms because the old lampshades were "terribly post-war."
4. For Christmas last year, my mum bought me a Sopranos DVD box-set. My mother-in-law bought me a nineteenth century wooden triptych, "to accentuate the fireplace."

Mad as a teaspoonful of Muhammed Ali's wrists, but as posh as Princess Anne's sunday best.
(, Fri 16 Sep 2005, 22:24, Reply)
oh, and also
I went to school with a baronet. His middle names were Alexis Tarquin Nicholas. And he had a von somewhere in there as well.

Actually went to university with him as well, come to think of it, although we did different courses and hardly ever saw each other, so the with is somewhat loose. But it was the same place, at the same time...
(, Fri 16 Sep 2005, 22:17, Reply)

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