Showing posts with label The Affected. Show all posts
Showing posts with label The Affected. Show all posts

Tuesday, July 01, 2008

Affectations


There's nothing like someone else's affectations to make you smile to yourself is there?

We're all different of course, but some go that extra half-mile to stand out just that bit more - and look daft in the process.

Ask someone the time and instead of looking at their wrist, they pull out of a pocket watch on a chain. No one needs to do this these days, even if it was great-grandad's. It's just daft and makes you look like a PG Woodhouse character, and not in a good way.

Pipes: Does anyone have a Condor moment anymore? When was the last time you saw someone smoking a pipe? When was the last time you saw someone under 40 smoking a pipe? I used to work with someone who did, but then he wore a Harry Worth hat too, so he was all over the place. And he always smelled of brown paper bags that had contained fruit. And sickly, cherry tobacco pipes. They're vile.

No, no one smokes a pipe anymore, thank goodness.

What about general smoking of cigars, rather than at a wedding or after a big dinner? Not cool.

The wearing of black leather gloves by men. Who do you think you are - Lynda La Plante?

People who say, 'Was it Churhill who said blah blah blah?'. Yes, and you know it was, but you're just showing off how well-read you are. Shut it.

I see someone some days on the way to work who dresses like he lives in the 1940s. He probably has a house that's faithful to the period, and likes the era. But it just looks mad on the street.

Not an affectation really, but those who grandstand about how much money they've got. isn't this just the worst thing ever?

I worked with a woman who was obsessed with money and always had to either a) tell you how much everything that she and her husband owned had cost them, or b) ask you what everything you'd bought had cost. Then she could do a quick comparison about who was richer and either fall silent with seething, bitter, status-anxiety fuelled rage, or showboat about her she wanted for nothing and how awful it must be for you to struggle, in so many words.

She once dispatched her husband to the Affordable Art Fair with orders not to come back with anything less than £3000. When I asked why it had to be £3000, she explained that there was no point coming back with anything under that, or what's the point in going?

I asked her why she didn't just frame £3000, beause the whole idea of going to art fair was so she could tell everyone how much the picture had cost.

That's enough affectations for now.

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