Latest news with #NancyMitford
Telegraph
2 days ago
- Entertainment
- Telegraph
Nazi-obsessed Mitford sisters ‘were modern and progressive'
The Mitford sisters have been described as 'modern and progressive women' by an actress playing one of them in an upcoming series. Bessie Carter, who has appeared in Bridgerton, plays Nancy, the eldest Mitford sister, in the historical drama Outrageous, which airs next week. She said the sisters – two of whom had a fascination with Nazism – 'refused to conform'. She told the Radio Times: 'They were definitely women who didn't want to just do the debutante balls. They wanted to work and to exercise their brains. 'The Mitfords were modern women, they were really progressive. They always asked, 'Why can't I do that?'' The six sisters – Nancy, Pamela, Diana, Unity, Jessica and Deborah – were born to Lord and Lady Redesdale and experienced an upbringing steeped in eccentricity. They were constantly in the headlines, and Unity in particular scandalised British society by her closeness with Adolf Hitler. She was known as the 'English girlfriend' of the Fuhrer and fawned over the man who threatened her country's liberty. In January, the discovery of the 1930s socialite's long-lost diaries revealed the extent of her infatuation. The diaries appear to show that Unity, whose father was a first cousin of Sir Winston Churchill's wife Clementine, met Hitler almost 140 times – sometimes alone, raising the prospect of a sexual relationship between the pair. Diana also scandalised society when she left her husband, the Guinness heir, to marry Sir Oswald Mosley, the British fascist leader with whom she had been having an affair. Threat to national security She was imprisoned at Holloway prison during the Second World War for being considered a danger to national security. The family's exploits have inspired books and films and will now be depicted in Outrageous. Carter added of the six women who will be portrayed: 'What we do in the show is look at those early years when they're about to step out into the world and make their mark. 'They're refusing to conform to what was expected of them at the time, which was to be wives and mothers.' She explained: 'Outrageous is looking at these six sisters and wondering how long a family will hold together. And at what point do you have to confront hard truths and face your differences? 'That's relevant today, isn't it? We probably all have a family member who politically is in a different place. How do we deal with that?' Joanna Vanderham, who plays Diana in the new show, added: 'Nancy told on Diana. She informed Churchill that Diana was a threat to national security and had her imprisoned. Who does that to their own sister?' She said: 'The Mitfords were mad! I feel that people will go, 'That wouldn't have happened.' Then they'll Google it and realise it did. The Mitfords were outrageous. The title is absolutely justified.'
Time of India
09-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Time of India
Snobspeak doubletalk
A former associate editor with the Times of India, Jug Suraiya writes two regular columns for the print edition, Jugular Vein, which appears every Friday, and Second Opinion, which appears on Wednesdays. His blog takes a contrarian view of topical and timeless issues, political, social, economic and speculative. LESS ... MORE On arty-crafty terms replacing good old-fashioned words An Australian friend has sent me an article from a local newspaper which says that the Down Under continent is being 'uplifted'. Is the land of Oz levitating to the top of the world? Not quite. 'Uplifted' doesn't have anything to do with geology. Or with such gravity-defying, cosmetic surgery procedures like tummy tucks and double chin eliminations, but is the latest addition to the argot of the hospitality industry. If a hotel offers to change the standard room you booked for a superior room, you are being uplifted. What's wrong with an old-fashioned upgrade? Upgrade has been downgraded and replaced by the presumably more uplifting 'uplifted'. Want an extra dollop of cheese on your pizza? By all means. Get uplifted. Oral snobbery, or snobspeak, which is reinventing language seeks to poshify everyday vocabulary. In the mid-50s, British novelist Nancy Mitford distinguished between U and non-U language, in which U stood for upper class and non-U for non-upper. For example, U-speakers would say scent, whereas non-U speakers would say perfume; a U-speaker would use the loo, while a non-U speaker would go to the toilet. In today's snobspeak, a restaurant menu or an art gallery exhibition is invariably curated. This does not mean getting hold of a cleric called a curate to preside over the proceedings. Curated merely means 'put together', but put together is verbal vanilla, oral plain Jane, while curated sounds glam and arty-crafty. Like 'artisanal'. Artisanal should evoke the image of a workman, an artisan, sweat beading the brow, sleeves rolled up on brawny arms, wielding an implement of arcane use. But artisanal now refers to small-batch food items that aren't mass-produced, like ice cream, or cheese, or cupcakes, or 'hand-cut' sandwiches, as distinct, presumably, from 'foot-cut' sandwiches, with or without benefit of boots. 'Bespoke' is the artisanal word for custom-made, or made to order. Being more hoity, not to mention toity, bespoke is snobspeak for customised. But even as snobspeak invents new buzzwords for its lexicon, it runs the risk of being told to shove a bespoke uplifted into your artisanal. Facebook Twitter Linkedin Email Disclaimer Views expressed above are the author's own.
Telegraph
04-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Telegraph
In France, being late for work is a form of advance retirement
'In precisely six and three-quarter minutes the damned fella will be late,' says Nancy Mitford 's Uncle Matthew, grinding his teeth as he waits by his trout stream for the Chubb Fuddler to arrive. Being late for an appointment is a certain way to enrage the person who is made to wait – even (or perhaps especially) if they are habitually unpunctual themselves. Lateness says, 'My time is more important than yours,' which is why celebs have transformed it into something approaching performance art, turning up ever more extravagantly late, with ever more preposterous excuses. Impressively late for a breakfast television interview, the reality star Gemma Collins complained that the 'helicopter didn't turn up on time', while the rapper Lauryn Hill, notorious for pitching up late to her own concerts, explained in a social media post that 'the challenge is aligning my energy with the time'. Goodness knows, we've all had that problem. The groundlings kept hanging about by these effigies of self-importance have little option but to twiddle their thumbs while their own time slips uselessly away. But lateness can also be an effective means of subversion. Go-slows and working to rule have traditionally been used by disgruntled workers to signal their discontent with decisions by politicians or bosses. But in France a trio of creative directors known as the Zélé collective have come up with a sophisticated reimagining of the go-slow as a satirical protest against President Macron's pension reforms. Two years ago, when Macron forced through legislation to raise the retirement age from 62 to 64, the French populace made its feelings clear in the usual way. There were strikes and protests across the country, at which effigies of the President, the Prime Minister, Elisabeth Borne, and other ministers were burned. So far, so French. But the Zélé collective's protest is an altogether slicker affair. On Instagram, an AI -generated Minister for Latecomers - young and handsome, with a hint of designer stubble and a carefully cultivated air of gravitas - addresses the nation. 'Français, Françaises', he intones, 'today we launch a citizens' movement against the retirement reforms by taking back our mornings'. Every minute that employees turn up late to work, he explains, is an act of resistance, reclaiming the leisure stolen by the pension reforms. A link is provided for workers to calculate precisely how many minutes of daily delay are required to redress their personal balance. Despite the pension reforms, the OECD's Global Life-Work Balance Index for 2024 still had France in 13th place; while the UK, where we must labour until 66 (rising to 67 next year and eventually to 68), was 15th. So on this side of the Channel, it is hard to feel much solidarity for the French workers, freed from toil at a comparatively youthful 64. Charles-Antoine De Sousa of the Zélés admits that the campaign is largely symbolic. 'But if we don't protest, one day we will wake up and find that we, too, have to work until we are 67'. Time, as everyone from Hippocrates to the authors of self-help books ('Excuse Me, Your Life Is Waiting') is keen to remind us, is a precious commodity. If we waste it, as Shakespeare's Richard II bitterly reflects, it will waste us. There, at least, we can agree with the virtual Minister for Latecomers.
Yahoo
04-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
In France, being late for work is a form of advance retirement
'In precisely six and three-quarter minutes the damned fella will be late,' says Nancy Mitford's Uncle Matthew, grinding his teeth as he waits by his trout stream for the Chubb Fuddler to arrive. Being late for an appointment is a certain way to enrage the person who is made to wait – even (or perhaps especially) if they are habitually unpunctual themselves. Lateness says, 'My time is more important than yours,' which is why celebs have transformed it into something approaching performance art, turning up ever more extravagantly late, with ever more preposterous excuses. Impressively late for a breakfast television interview, the reality star Gemma Collins complained that the 'helicopter didn't turn up on time', while the rapper Lauryn Hill, notorious for pitching up late to her own concerts, explained in a social media post that 'the challenge is aligning my energy with the time'. Goodness knows, we've all had that problem. The groundlings kept hanging about by these effigies of self-importance have little option but to twiddle their thumbs while their own time slips uselessly away. But lateness can also be an effective means of subversion. Go-slows and working to rule have traditionally been used by disgruntled workers to signal their discontent with decisions by politicians or bosses. But in France a trio of creative directors known as the Zélé collective have come up with a sophisticated reimagining of the go-slow as a satirical protest against President Macron's pension reforms. Two years ago, when Macron forced through legislation to raise the retirement age from 62 to 64, the French populace made its feelings clear in the usual way. There were strikes and protests across the country, at which effigies of the President, the Prime Minister, Elisabeth Borne, and other ministers were burned. So far, so French. But the Zélé collective's protest is an altogether slicker affair. On Instagram, an AI -generated Minister for Latecomers - young and handsome, with a hint of designer stubble and a carefully cultivated air of gravitas - addresses the nation.'Français, Françaises', he intones, 'today we launch a citizens' movement against the retirement reforms by taking back our mornings'. Every minute that employees turn up late to work, he explains, is an act of resistance, reclaiming the leisure stolen by the pension reforms. A link is provided for workers to calculate precisely how many minutes of daily delay are required to redress their personal balance. Despite the pension reforms, the OECD's Global Life-Work Balance Index for 2024 still had France in 13th place; while the UK, where we must labour until 66 (rising to 67 next year and eventually to 68), was 15th. So on this side of the Channel, it is hard to feel much solidarity for the French workers, freed from toil at a comparatively youthful 64. Charles-Antoine De Sousa of the Zélés admits that the campaign is largely symbolic. 'But if we don't protest, one day we will wake up and find that we, too, have to work until we are 67'. Time, as everyone from Hippocrates to the authors of self-help books ('Excuse Me, Your Life Is Waiting') is keen to remind us, is a precious commodity. If we waste it, as Shakespeare's Richard II bitterly reflects, it will waste us. There, at least, we can agree with the virtual Minister for Latecomers. Broaden your horizons with award-winning British journalism. Try The Telegraph free for 1 month with unlimited access to our award-winning website, exclusive app, money-saving offers and more.
