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Posh Quotes

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Posh Quotes

“I hate this complete obsession with class, especially at this place, you can hardly say 'hello' to anyone before they are getting all prolier-than-thou and telling you about how their dad's a one eyed chimney-sweep with rickets, and how they've still got an outside loo, and have never been on a plane or whatever, all that dubious crap, most of which is usually lies anyway, and I'm thinking why are you telling me this? Am I meant to feel guilty? D'you think it's my fault or something, or are you just feeling pleased with yourself for escaping your pre-determined social role or some self congratulatory bullshit? I mean, what does it matter anyway? People are people, if you ask me, and they rise or fall by their own talents and merits, and their own labours, and blaming the fact they've got a settee rather than a sofa, or eat tea rather tan dinner, that's just an excuse, it's just whining self-pity and shoddy thinking.... I don;t make judgements about other people because of their background and I expect people to treat me with the same courtesy... It's my parent's moeny and its not as if they got it from nicking people's dole or running sweatshops in Johannesburg or something. They worked fucking hard for what they've got. It's a privilege and they treat it as such and they do their best to give something back. But if you ask me, theres no snob like an inverted snob... Im just so fucking bored of people trying to pass plain old envy off as some sort of virtue.”

LifeEnvyWealthyUpper ClassSnobberyPoshClass System
Book:Starter for Ten
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“Lydia had devoted herself- and her husband's money- toward making their home a "destination." She fancied herself floating through a household of the East Coast elite, dazzling them with continental cuisine, priceless art and antiques, and a perfectly stocked wine cellar. They would tour her gardens and marvel at her ability to create such a cultural oasis in the southern desert. In reality, every evening Lydia watched her guests meander across her yard to the Belles', where they delighted in such southern delicacies as moonshine in Mason jars, bawdy conversation, and shoofly pie.”

SouthernPoshPartiesBellesLydia Jackson
Book:The Rock Orchard
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“A dozen or so guests gathered in the conservatory for breakfast. The sweet scent of jasmine perfumed the air and an aviary of lemon yellow canaries sang for them. They drank fresh-squeezed juice that smelled like orange blossoms and spooned perfect bites of soft-boiled eggs from fragile shells. White sunlight poured through the glass dome above their heads like an affirmation from heaven, and a constant breeze blew over them as though fanned by invisible servants. Beyond the open doors stretched emerald lawn. Beyond the lawn, the ocean, blue as a robin's egg.”

OceanBreakfastSceneryPoshConservatory
Book:The Rock Orchard
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“In the north of Tehran, right by the foothills of Tehran’s bit of the Alborz mountain range is Niavaran. The district is an entanglement of slopes and roads where way back in the day, going back to the Qajar era, villas and houses were all you would see. Now though it has become an extension of the city center with buildings and towers scattered across its narrow roads. Even with all of the congestion, the weather is a few degrees cooler than the rest of the city and it remains one of the “port out, starboard home” districts in Tehran.”

NeighborhoodIranTehranPoshNiavaran
Book:Tajrish
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“For a short waterfall it is surprisingly noisy and too close to the car park for him to risk shouting over it so they stand there in silence observing it. Obviously she wants to and he finds that he can tolerate the distraction, using the time to check her out. Posh punk, he thinks, hard to see which is dominant. Frayed denim skirt and black leggings under a very classy cashmere coat. She trawled a high-end branch of Oxfam or she's genuinely indigent with a good source of hand-me-downs. Whichever, she has a near-perfect profile and pink hair.”

PunkPoshWaterfallCashmereCharlotte KaufmannHand Me DownsAdam Maxwell
Book:Badlands
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“There was this big skiffle craze happening for a while in England.... Everybody was in a skiffle group..All you needed was an acoustic Guitar, a washboard with thimbles for percussion, and a tea-chest- you know, the ones they used to ship tea from India- and you just put a broom handle on it and a bit of string, and you had a bass..you only needed two chords; Jing-jinga-jing jing-jinga-jing jing-jinga-jing jing-jinga-jing. And I think that's basically where i've always been at. I'm just a skiffler, you know. Now I do posh skiffle, that's all it is.”

ThinkingKnowsTwoBigsUsedBitsGroupsNeededHappeningsIndiaEnglandGuitarHandleShipsTeaStringsChestsChordsBassAcousticsBroomsAcoustic GuitarPoshPercussionCraze
Author:George Harrison
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“The most abiding memory of visiting Lucian Freud's studio were his eyes, with the gimlet gaze of a Hooded Falcon. But he made for very relaxing company, quick to be amused at the world and his own peccadilloes. He enjoyed the seedy squalor of his rooms in a posh house in the most desirable part of Holland Park, and living up to his persona as an oddball bohemian.”

WorldMadeEyeHouseMemoriesRoomsCompanyStudiosEnjoyedHis EyesParksDesirableAbidingPersonaVisitingAmusedHollandBohemianFalconPoshSqualorOddballsGimlets
Book:Babble
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“Of course, the underlying structure of everything in England is posh. There is no in-between with these people. You have to walk a mile to find a telephone booth, but when you find it, it is built as if the senseless dynamiting of pay phones had been a serious problem at some time in the past. And a British mailbox can presumably stop a German tank.”

PeopleIfsProblemPastCoursesWalksPaySeriousBuiltEnglandStructurePhonesBritishMilesTelephonesTanksPoshMailboxes
Author:Neal Stephenson
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“When I was fifteen, I remember my mum taking me to the posh clothes shop on London Road to get my first grown-up coat. It was royal-blue and very adult, and I thought, Gosh, this is great! But when my mum said to the assistant, "What's the lowest price you'll take for this?" I nearly died of shame, and wanted to run away.”

FirstsSaidRunningWantedRememberClothesAdultsDiedShameBlueGuiltLondonShopsRunning AwayMumFifteenCoatsLowestRoyalAssistantsPoshRoyal Blue
Author:Cilla Black
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“It reminds me of a string of wet sponges; it reminds me of tattered washing on the line; it reminds me of stale bean soup, of college yells, of dogs barking idiotically through endless nights. It is so bad that a sort of grandeur creeps into it. It drags itself up out of the dark abyss of pish and crawls insanely up the topmost pinnacle of posh. It is rumble and bumble. It is flap and doodle. It is balder and dash.”

HumorNightLinesDarkDogCollegeEndlessStringsDragWetSoupAbyssCreepsWashingGrandeurBeansStaleSpongesPinnacleRumblePosh
Author:H. L. Mencken
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