![]() ![]() So many locals turned up for filming (sharp-elbowed, the middle classes) that the footage yielded three episodes. Not literally, I’m in a Victorian terrace, but rest assured it’s like Sir John Soanes’ Museum in here, crammed with tasteful curiosities and unique objets décoratifs. Loyal followers of this column (but I tautologise) may remember that last year, the Antiques Roadshow came to my manor. ![]() Why, our daughters are bound to marry well, are they not?īut I’m getting ahead of myself. I cannot believe how it has cemented our social status I expect we shall be the talk of the Assembly Rooms, Mr Bennet. All well and good, but nothing pulls rank among the arrivistes like appearing on Antiques Roadshow with a family heirloom. These days there are any number of MCMs (middle-class markers) – both glaringly obvious, like owning a boot room and waiting until after Christmas lunch to open your presents, and more discreet, like not putting the central heating on when guests come to stay.Ī pair of insane springer spaniels. Is there a prize? I already have the hand-whittled spurtle and English Heritage membership, thanks. Dear Readers, I have reached peak middle-aged, middle class. ![]()
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