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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 carry pictures
of the queen in my pocket every day, and get this, some of the pictures are on metal.

I often also tend to hand these out to young maidens at bars, in which return they give us ale.
(, Mon 19 Sep 2005, 9:12, Reply)
Posh, Moi
I'm not posh, I've only got one member of domestic staff. One requires several to be considered posh
(, Mon 19 Sep 2005, 6:42, Reply)
My ancestors in the male line were French protestants who escaped the St Bartholomew's Day massacre in 1572. They made a living in London as silk weavers, silversmiths and traders.
I don't know whether that's posh or not.

More recently on my mum's side I am descended from millionaire south London butchers who had a large villa in the fields of Lewisham.
Eliza, the young lady of the family had an ... entanglement with the captain of a Sweedish merchant ship then docked in London.
She had to travel to Germany to give birth to my grandmother, who had no birth certificate.

Back in England my grandmother was given for adoption to a family in Dover. At fourteen, she was sent into domestic service with a fine family who lived in Lewisham.
Some time before her eighteenth birthday she came to know that her mistress was also her mother.
She was married off to a poor specimen of humanity, the thirteenth son of a modestly successful businessman.

As a girl, mum was allowed to visit the big house for the famous Boxing Day parties, with silver coins hidden around for kids to find, crackers from Harrods and servants out in force.
She had no idea whether she was posh or not, treated neither as family nor servant.
(, Sun 18 Sep 2005, 23:41, Reply)
On the five pound note, the lady on the back, Elizabeth Fry is one of my distant relatives.

If that is not posh fuck knows what is.
(, Sun 18 Sep 2005, 23:18, Reply)
A family of two halves
On Saturday I realised how posh I am (by comparision) to the rest of my family. I went to a family birthday party and what a bunch of chavs share my genetic root stock. To put it in to perspective there were two drunken fights and lots of heavily overweight drunk sixteen year olds wearing boob tubes and hoop earing bah. Until last night I though my family was an the inspirational saga of British industry, capatilism and spunk. grandfather a docker, mother a nurse and her son (me) a doc; and I'm proud of my families working class background. But one half of my family missed the elevator and have now become living caricatures of Middlesbrough man ('ere our Lisa ger us a fookin pint i fink its yer round'). In Middlesbrough being posh just means not taking smack in public.

Am I posh or just a snob? You decide.

Not a very good post but I treat this board as a kind of therapy.

Edit: Also my in my blood line is a native American! Apparently this guy came over here in the 19th century with the Wild Bill show. I've often wondered while taking a dump if I'm a missing chief of some tribe. How posh? (How! heheheheheh god I'm funny).

Edit again: I take it back I can't be posh I've just found out my Mums watching the 50 years of ITV special.
(, Sun 18 Sep 2005, 21:43, Reply)
fall-y down-y
We own a horse.

Or rather, my sister does as she has a huge income. Given that she is 14 and does not have a job, I find this highly suspicious.

Anyway, the horse hates me and I hate it.

Other than that we're not posh. We do have a big house but that's only impressive until you fall into one of the many holes in the floor whilst noticing with a horrible kind of awe that the place is a shrine to many many ongoing DIY projects

'Let's save money and build the house ourselves dear!'
(, Sun 18 Sep 2005, 19:46, Reply)
I'm that posh
I'm a full member of Nottinghamshire Cricket Club and sat on the balcony of the pavillion during the Trent Bridge Test Match.

I've also been thrown out of a well known London club owned by a certain Mr.(Slimy Bastard)Stringfellow, and if that don't get your poshness level up I don't know what does.

Oh yeah and my mum reckons we're related to Helen Of Troy or some other such ancient royalty.
(, Sun 18 Sep 2005, 19:39, Reply)
Well I speak well posh like
but I have a friend who takes posh to new extremes. Both his parents are from the minor aristocracy. Both of them are bohemian druggies. Both of them ran away from home taking nothing but their clothes and their trust funds. My friend thereforeis so unbelievable posh he could clean wineglasses with his voice. He speaks in 1950s BBC english. His long term boyfriend grew up on a council estate in Hackney and speaks like a rude boy. Not only do my mates family not mind this they love the guy. To the point of taking him in and allowing him to live with them when he got kicked out of his home and became a homeless junkie prostitute. On top of this, the entire family suffers from some form of hereditary illness brought on by over inbreeding in the past. Due to this my mate is so badly manic depressive he has to go to a special school, which probably saved him years of being bullied as a posh boy
(, Sun 18 Sep 2005, 19:31, Reply)
Down t' mill
I'm anti-posh -

My granddad was the union man at his mill (he lived in Yeadon, Leeds) and was a member of the communist party.
My dad gets more Northern every year (as defence against the carrot-munching farmers we now live amoungst) and is a hard-core, old-skool labour supporter.
So - distilled through the generations - I'm now a proud, northern, socialist, common-as-muck student - going to historically lefty Essex uni :D

And I hate all you posh f00kers - I'm gonna tax your asses to hell and back :p
(, Sun 18 Sep 2005, 19:14, Reply)
My mum and her side of the family are all from Salford, my dads side are from Newtonheath and oldham.

I was born in Mossside and grew up in a flat above a pub as my parents were the land lords.

O posh? I sometimes wank wearing a condom.
(, Sun 18 Sep 2005, 18:27, Reply)
Well... as for being posh my family is delightfully middle class and we all go horse-riding etc, holidays in France are a norm. But I think what tops it is a colleague of mine whilst I was working in the States told me he played (and won) strip poker with Paul McCartney's sister in law. As for myself... I guess having an addiction to sushi is about as middle class as I get these days. Well, apart from the horseriding. However, to add to the general weirdness of it all, on my Mum's side I have gypsy royalty (pikey, pikey, do as you likey...) and on Dad's side I have French blood- apparently some ancestor who was on the Academie Francais. I think I may be also related to the Crosslands, a big aristo family from West Yorkshire, but I need to do a bit more research first.
(, Sun 18 Sep 2005, 18:12, Reply)
Check me out (rah rah rah)
i live in a complete and utter shit hole but i wipe my bottom with johnsons baby wipes....how posh is that?
(, Sun 18 Sep 2005, 18:07, Reply)

I'm posh, I go to one of them 'public' schools and everything. I do not have a horse, or a pool, or a big house, or staff, or famous realtives, or a sheep farm or anything like that however. I do know people who do though, that counts, right? I live in a place famous for hourse racing, and hang out up by the race course. There is a field with Llamas in it over there...I like Llamas
(, Sun 18 Sep 2005, 17:29, Reply)
My mum was born and raised in Barnes, as were her sisters and brother. They are as working class as it comes.

Times were often hard, but this never bothered one of my mum's older sisters.

Whilst sitting skint, in the dark, with no electric, and no ten bob for the meter, my aunt piped up in an affected plum accent 'Oh, mummy! Isn't it fun being poor!'

She went on to marry a horse-racing millionaire, so evidentally not as much fun as she thought!
(, Sun 18 Sep 2005, 17:23, Reply)
Is purely relative. I live oop North, so my Southern (born in London) accent gets me the posh label. Also, I don't have a TV, which for some reason makes it worse. And my dad was a high-ranking copper. Which includes free tickets to the boardroom of our local football club. Where I saw the amusing once-in-a-lifetime view of Arsene Wenger walking into the ladies loo. French twat.
(, Sun 18 Sep 2005, 15:14, Reply)
My dad's family is well posh. My dad was brought up on (and they still live on) a massive estate outside of coldstream. We're talking acres. They've got a massive garden, their own river, masses of farmland. And the annoying thing is, I've got no claim to any of it whatsoever. Bastards
(, Sun 18 Sep 2005, 14:07, Reply)
i'm bloody posh
I ordered wine in a restaurant on Friday.
(, Sun 18 Sep 2005, 13:49, Reply)
posh cousins
10 years ago while planning a trip to England, my mother organised for us to stay with one of her sister's kids, who live near Windsor, for 4 days.
After driving around country lanes for a couple of hours we gave up and went to ask for directions at a big mansion because we saw some bloke sitting outside.
You guessed it, one of my cousins, rich cunt who ran an international company. Met another of the vousins at a party that night, who was a merchant banker and collected Ferraris.

Mind you, the wives were from Crewe and Glasgow respectively and common as muck - much to the delight of my missus who is a scouser. The 3 of them were pissed out of thier minds the whole time we were there - free booze you see.
(, Sun 18 Sep 2005, 13:07, Reply)
Not posh, but...
Some of us have poshness thrust upon us.

My grandfather started out as a bag & bottle collector. Horse and cart, the whole Steptoe thing, around the streets of Melbourne.

Eventually the nature of the trade changed somewhat: a truck replaced the horse, and removing things to (and from) the large industrial tip site became a major part of the business.

So it was that my grandfather came to be lopping trees and removing excess branches from the home of Sir Robert Menzies, erstwhile Prime Minister. Your humble narrator, all of 8 or 9 years age, was on term holiday from school. Yes, a private school. Of all my family, I was the first to speak "with a plum".

My grubby roots manifest, I was happy to be carrier of tools and general getter-in-the-way as grandad and his offsiders worked, and was thus occupied when Sir Robert met me.

He gave me ten shillings (in early 1960s terms, this was a huge sum) and said I was "a little gentleman".

It just goes to show, the poor old bugger was no better a judge of character than when he earned the nickname "Pig-Iron Bob".

This will explain the nickname.
(, Sun 18 Sep 2005, 7:30, Reply)
im so posh...
my derranged grandmother now claims that her mother's family were barons in russia and owned several towns. that worked until the whole "pogrom" thing.

my dad's family owned a handbag/belt company/factory thing in new york for a long time, so that right there is the definition of posh.

my dad also makes about 300,000 quid a year, so that makes me extra posh doesnt it then. or just him. whatever. suppose im still worthless. he's having dinner with former president clinton this thursday.

too bad my last job paid me 970 quid before i was "terminated". fuckers.

im currently fucking a fashion model in fashion week. no joke.

im also so posh i pay someone 25 quid per nut per hour to clean my balls in san pellegrino.**

no appologies for length, length is the new short. that's how posh i am.

**may be wholly untrue.
(, Sun 18 Sep 2005, 6:48, Reply)
I don't know if its "posh" or not but my fammily are desendants from Olif The Black from Scotland
(, Sun 18 Sep 2005, 1:57, Reply)
Girl I knew in halls last year
was the Marquis of Nottingham's cousin or something.
She was really nice and attractive etc. (6' tall as well!) but thick as two bull's lugs.
Anytime I tried to have a conversation with her, I had to block out the sound of my mental gears crunching....
She also had upper-class spending habits, which is very handy when you're living on a student loan and your own sweat. Mind you, her daddy probably footed the bill for most of her ridiculous spending.

Come to think of it, most people in my halls were like that...

The only link I have to aristocracy is that my great-grandad was a Captain in the Royal Navy during World War One. (Edit: probably more due to his ability than his upbringing.) Oh, and my great-uncle Terry got done for indecently assaulting one of the Queen's maids in about 1937. Also, my mum's family are all born-and-bred Rotterdammers (Dutch equivalents of Scousers) and have criminal convictions of some sort. A distant ancestor on my mum's side apparently formed the first trade union in Holland, so that's an anti-aristocratic link for you.
(, Sat 17 Sep 2005, 19:49, Reply)
My family are pig thieves
Always have been, always will be
(, Sat 17 Sep 2005, 19:43, Reply)
...I was born in North America, my remotest traceable ancestors were probably some carpenter's ugly and unwanted 6th daughter and a murderer... fornicating on the way here. :(

But, hey, I enjoy eating croissants. That must be a little redeeming. No?
(, Sat 17 Sep 2005, 18:53, Reply)

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