Essential Snobbery 101: Emails should not replace proper communication

Breeding annoyance

The times I have been quite noticeably shocked by behaviour and attitude are without count. That I have quite promptly upbraided people is something people who know me appreciate.

The other day, it was an email with the appeal that I be "calm, logical and professional" Some messages are not worth responding to, because there is no arrangement of words that would serve the intent as well as the put-down she deserved.

I decided that she had not, with all our dealings, begun to understand the kind of person that I am. Nothing annoys me more than the lack of courtesy, where people resort to emails in place of the essential conversation and think things are fine that way.

Proper conduct

Sadly, in my view, if you will saddle me with a responsibility, then you should chat to me. That I have acquiesced does not mean I have accepted that responsibility apart from trying to create a situation of, 'can we just get along?'

It is the same thing that informs how I travel and how I like things to be, 'just so'. There is a cost to this, but the truth is whilst some might consider me demanding or complaining. I prefer the absence of conflict borne of the fact that people know what they are supposed to do, so I do not have to ask them to do what should have been properly done.

Human-to-human conversation is still the most effective, courteous and respectful kind of communication; it shows engagement too.

Project management off the books

This is where one must say the project is losing focus, no expectations are set, no inspiration is given, and hence, there is no commitment and targets are not met.

There is the science of project management, and there is an art of project management; many have mastered the former and lack any skill in the latter. In essence, they have to bludgeon rather than encourage and escalate rather than encourage.

That they appear to be out of their depth is no surprise, and that we are to pick up Humpty Dumpty's pieces afterwards is no surprise.

If I have to insinuate myself into this situation, the quest to get things going might inadvertently expose the incompetence of others. That is why I am restraining myself, but it would not be long before knowledge and understanding meet in the realisation of somewhat all too obvious facts.

I am biding my time.

Does your inside leg have class?

Between I and me

Nothing excites the English more than to realise that the dormant class war has been jolted into an active volcano with pyroclastic flows of hints for the middle classes to burnish their airs of snobbery in ways that would make Hyacinth Bucket look common.

This was brought about by the break-up of Prince William and Kate Middleton whose greatest sin was to have a mother who responded with a "Pleased to meet you" than the proper, "How do you do?" and asked for the toilet when one does ask for the lavatory.

One remembers remodelling one's manner of speech to say "pardon" rather than bark out "What" considering that too rude for everyday conversation for which one could be accused of dumbing down.

The class frenzy in the papers

So, the Daily Telegraph which one finally persuaded the local newsagents to obtain for one's reading each morning went into overdrive on snippets of being proper enough to have truck loads of toffee on one's nose though not guaranteeing the dosh for readers to travel posh.

Things like laying down your cutlery whilst chewing; having guests wear morning dress to weddings and so on would have those striving to keep up with the Joneses in a tizzy.

However, the greatest putdown in the class war in contemporary times was delivered by Alan Clark when he said of Lord Heseltine who then was a mere Micheal Heseltine - a successful politician and multi-millionaire - a man who bought his own furniture.

The irony is not lost on anyone that many of those in aristocratic circles once had ancestors who bought their own furniture as would eventually never be said of Lord Heseltine's descendants.

The class of your suit

So imagine how I chuckled when I found an advertisement in the Telegraph about a tailor from Hong Kong elbowing his way into the turf of the Savile Row purveyors of formal menswear peddling the best of British cloth and cuts of class under-cutting Savile Row prices tremendously.

He is making the rounds of well-appointed hotels around England measuring up gentlemen for bespoke tailoring all the way from Hong Kong, it reads like a symphonic orchestra calling at theatres all around the country as opposed to pop concerts calling at rowdy stadiums.

Obviously, it is not proper to ask the price of anything indicating you cannot afford it, nor is it of the best manners to blatantly seek out bargains, seeing that is an affectation of the middle classes - this is suffocating as I swoon with a backhand to my tilted forehead - do these people live in this world?

One is not being served

The clincher in the advertisement can only be delivered verbatim - under the title - Even the price suits you, Sir (how common) one paragraph reads -

"In other words, customers can now buy two bespoke, custom and hand-stitched suits, made from fine, British or Italian cloth and measured by a master tailor for the price of one off-the-peg, chain store suit cut by a computer out of cheap fabric and sold to you by a gentleman with spiky gelled hair and who wouldn't know a side vent or a notch lapel from a PlayStation." Ouch! Ouch! Meow!

Now, if he were not making more affordable (read cheap-er) suits, he might have been a prospect for a Royal Warrant - But who says the middle classes are not smarter on the money?

If you must, Raja Fashions can have a tape measure on your inside leg sooner than you had time to smirk at the offer as you ask for gold buttons on ermine.