Posh Frocks and Pop Socks
A rant with a social (I believe) point in it.
So.
Today, like most Tuesdays these days, Man Wonderful et moi took the young lad AKA the smallest grandchild out for some R&R (Reasoning and Rebellion: they are never too young....) to a local indoor squidgy play space.
This one is small, relatively fragrant, kept v clean, and has more-than-reasonable-level toilets and a damn fine coffee bar attached.
As usual I took my knitting, and sat with shoes off and teacup to-the-brim as we watched young lad play, explore and generally exercise safely.
And as usual the other grown-ups were, for the most part, attentive to their small charges and to their chums or fellow mums in equal measures.
Now this little play centre is very near a quite nice garden centre. Which is adjacent to a picturesque little town. (It's a Very middle-class area.)
And because it's in (a Very middle class area) you tend to get (Very middle class) people.
Which is.
You know.
Nice.
And there's a sort of standard.
An unspoken one.
A sort of - you know what you should be doing/talking about/dressing like - unspoken standard.
I mean there's lots of people who look 'nicer' than just, "Oh let's go to the play area...ok I'll just grab my jacket."
Y'know?
There's young mums in full make up. And not too much, like interview make up, not nightclub make up.
With nails done and hair up. And pop socks under their nice slacks.
To go to the play area.
So anyway, you get the picture of the nice (Very middle class) play area..
And there, sat playing on his mobile phone, was a man, a dad of a youngling.
And he was wearing - I promise you no exaggeration - a
baseball cap, a t-shirt with a large slogan on it, an Overshirt borrowed - in all probability - from a lumberjack, RED AND WHITE PATTERNED baseball boots, and what I believe to be tracksuit bottoms - but the arse of these trousers was where any sane person would have the knees.
Now I'm not saying you should wear a dinner suit to go to a garden centre: but the role of the "adult" - and I use the phrase gingerly here - is to set a standard, to be a role model, non?
Well it may come as a surprise that when one is spectator to a few under-fives jumping inside a padded ball pool, one is not going to EVER be asked to act as a sub in a game of bloody basketball!
Rant over.
I think, for now anyway.
Until next time, xxxxx
So.
Today, like most Tuesdays these days, Man Wonderful et moi took the young lad AKA the smallest grandchild out for some R&R (Reasoning and Rebellion: they are never too young....) to a local indoor squidgy play space.
This one is small, relatively fragrant, kept v clean, and has more-than-reasonable-level toilets and a damn fine coffee bar attached.
As usual I took my knitting, and sat with shoes off and teacup to-the-brim as we watched young lad play, explore and generally exercise safely.
And as usual the other grown-ups were, for the most part, attentive to their small charges and to their chums or fellow mums in equal measures.
Now this little play centre is very near a quite nice garden centre. Which is adjacent to a picturesque little town. (It's a Very middle-class area.)
And because it's in (a Very middle class area) you tend to get (Very middle class) people.
Which is.
You know.
Nice.
And there's a sort of standard.
An unspoken one.
A sort of - you know what you should be doing/talking about/dressing like - unspoken standard.
I mean there's lots of people who look 'nicer' than just, "Oh let's go to the play area...ok I'll just grab my jacket."
Y'know?
There's young mums in full make up. And not too much, like interview make up, not nightclub make up.
With nails done and hair up. And pop socks under their nice slacks.
To go to the play area.
So anyway, you get the picture of the nice (Very middle class) play area..
And there, sat playing on his mobile phone, was a man, a dad of a youngling.
And he was wearing - I promise you no exaggeration - a
baseball cap, a t-shirt with a large slogan on it, an Overshirt borrowed - in all probability - from a lumberjack, RED AND WHITE PATTERNED baseball boots, and what I believe to be tracksuit bottoms - but the arse of these trousers was where any sane person would have the knees.
Now I'm not saying you should wear a dinner suit to go to a garden centre: but the role of the "adult" - and I use the phrase gingerly here - is to set a standard, to be a role model, non?
Well it may come as a surprise that when one is spectator to a few under-fives jumping inside a padded ball pool, one is not going to EVER be asked to act as a sub in a game of bloody basketball!
Rant over.
I think, for now anyway.
Until next time, xxxxx
Sadly, this sort of behaviour (because dressing is a form of behaviour) is becoming the norm.
ReplyDeleteI could equally rant about the customer services desk in Morrison's yesterday. Went there to it to make an enquiry. Chap there, busily writing something in a book. He wouldn't look up. We coughed gently to jog his attention. He continued to write. Then husband had the temerity to ask where the Rug Doctor cleaning fluids were (we couldn't see them). So he looked up for all of 2 seconds, pointed and just said, "Over there" and looked back down again at what he was doing. No "May I help you?" or even the consideration of showing us properly. So we went and bought the fluid and then when I went to the counter where they sell tobacco and Lottery tickets rather than queueing in the store (for I'd only bought two items), the woman there just yelled, "Points card!" So I said, "Excuse me, what did you say?" She again yelled, "POINTS CARD!" only louder. I then realized she meant a store loyalty card so I explained I didn't have one. So she took my money and handed me some change. So I then asked for a receipt and you'd think I'd asked for a pot of gold. I didn't want to exit the store without proof of purchase. Thank goodness we usually shop in Waitrose and Lidl where the staff have more manners. Yes, the chaps on the check-out in Lidl are really nice and polite. A store doesn't have to be an expensive one to engage good staff and train them properly. Morrison's, up your game, I say!
Margaret P
I know what you mean.
ReplyDeleteWhen did bare legs become the norm? Hose exist for a reason. I was trying on shoes and used the complimentary popsock to see how the shoe fits. A teenager next to me was like "why do you bother with stockings?" My response, "you don't get blisters"!
And yes, I do wear makeup on the weekend because I enjoy it. Don't bother when I'm at work, I'd sweat the lot off in minutes and personally, I hate to see nurses in full faces!