How do posh people stay ahead?
The pronunciation of "off" as "awf" is a posh-ism that's been fading for a while now. Prince William dropping "awf" for a more standard "off" definitely signals a broader shift. The royals tend to mirror changes in the prestige accent over time. Prince William and Harry speak more like educated middle-class Brits today than their grandmother or even their father, who still has some of those old-school RP sounds.
Alexander Thynn, the 7th Marquess of Bath, documented the "socially correct" behaviors instilled in him during his aristocratic upbringing. In his autobiography, Strictly Private to Public Exposure: The Early Years, he reflected on the rigid social codes and expectations he was taught as a young man. These included detailed instructions on etiquette, such as the proper way to eat various foods, appropriate attire for different occasions, correct forms of address for individuals of varying ranks, and the expected conduct in interactions with both peers and servants. People who put milk in first, before tea, were derided as ‘mifs.’ Thynn's upbringing was deeply rooted in the traditions of the British upper class, and he was educated at institutions such as Eton College and Christ Church, Oxford.
The point of poshness is that the posh have to stay ahead of the non-posh. Part of this is pronunciation, part vocabulary, part etiquette, part behaviour. When proletarians start calling their children by upper class names, the posh will revert to common names to assert their difference. Ask any Tom, Dick or Harry.
When ordinary people start taking holidays to the places they once exclusively frequented, the posh have to move on to more obscure and less accessible places.
Once a style, word, or habit is adopted by the aspirational middle classes, the truly posh quietly abandon it and move to something new. For example, in the 1950s, calling the toilet a “lavatory” was posh. Middle classes copied it, so the posh switched to “loo.” Now “loo” is widespread, so the posh just say “bathroom” or “downstairs cloakroom.”
Diamonds are now too obvious. Instead the posh will casually flaunt a battered gold signet ring engraved with a centuries-old family crest. Instead of a flashy new Range Rover in metallic black, the posh will drive a muddy one in faded green.
It is an eternal game of social musical chairs in Britain, and the posh are masters at staying at least one step ahead. Sociologists even have a name for it: ‘social drift’ or the ‘elite signalling shift.’ It’s all meaningless snobbery, but those who practise it think that it matters.
The Serviette Union was doomed as having no class. Had they called it the Napkin Union, it might have survived.
Madsen Pirie