13-04-2025
How posh are you really? Take my privilege test
Firstly, is your dog named after a Scottish river? Around a year ago, when I was considering getting a puppy, a nice lady called Gail Garbutt sent me her book Spot On: Good Names For Dogs. It lists hundreds of options, in various categories, and my favourite of all was the suggestion that you call your dog Oykel, Brora or Lossie. Picking one of these would definitely make you (and your dog) a bit privileged. Although there is also a Scottish river called Garry, which I didn't know before reading this book, and would slightly let the side down.
Secondly, do you know that the Cresta Run is, in fact, not a run? Very privileged if so. Add on 100 bonus points to your score if you've actually done it.
Do you have a very small, very old telly instead of a vast flat-screen? Privileged!
Do you play charades three or more times a year, and sometimes have scrambled eggs for supper? I'm afraid you may be an enemy of the people if so.
Do you have a tin of Colman's Mustard powder in your cupboard (probably you call it a larder or pantry), because you much prefer making it yourself, in an eggcup, rather than the ready-made stuff? Whoops, this is an absolute giveaway. I would imagine, if you do feel this way about Colman's Mustard, you may also still refer to Kenya as Keeenya? I once challenged a member of my family who referred to the country as such, whereupon he blinked at me, confused, and said 'What? It's just the same as still calling Zimbabwe Rhodesia.' If you happen to be in the Keeenya or even Rhodesia camp, I'm afraid that's quite a few privilege points.
If you refer to the drawing room, and that's also where you open your Christmas presents but strictly after lunch (never before), then these mean you're similarly awful and entitled.
Do you also have a downstairs loo which contains any of the following: a school team photo; a framed engagement or birth announcement; a photo of a relative on a horse; a Matt cartoon compendium; a well-thumbed pile of Country Life copies, dating back to the 1980s? Should you have all of these things, you might as well go straight to the nearest police station and hand yourself in.
Do you believe that central heating, and certainly a house that's too warm, is slightly common? This has the whiff of privilege, as does any snobbery towards visitors' books. I've grown up being taught that it's enormously naff to leave comments in the visitors' book, and that you should simply write your name and your address. Sometimes, I look at the entry in the visitors' book before mine and think how lovely and cheerful it is that the previous guest wrote so eloquently and charmingly about the food and the comfort of the beds, and I forlornly wish I could bring myself to do the same. But the trouble is I'm been conditioned to believe that compliments like that in the visitors' book are infra dig and should be left for my thank-you letter. I'm so sorry. Forgive me, Father, and all that.
Are you either alarmed by the sound of the Gay Gordons, or an enthusiastic participant? Westminster City Council would be appalled if you're the latter.
