The Royal Warrant

In stark contrast to sitting with my dad in a tattoo studio i have just spent the day in Chorleywood, Rickmansworth. A very well off area on the outskirts of london. I was quiet amused, sipping my glass of sauvignon, to hear my uncle mention the royal warrant his business had just received and the list of activities that the queen was at that he could attend should he so wish. He then moved on to say that new money was terrible. I knew what he meant when he said it and unfortunately i had already noticed the people he was on about.

Its the little things that make the difference when your in a nice restaurant filled with posh people. OH they'l sit their with their wellies on (or should i call them Wellington boots) with the labrador next to them toffing over something but the second u pick up the wrong fork and use it like a shovel they r on to u. My uncle is a classic example with his waist coat and tweed.

Then we moved on to a conversation of how the class system was corrupt with new money/ blood and how they'd never know the etiquette to be in a nice place... it made me wonder about myself, where to i fit with my back piece, lip piercing and love of metal?

I dont care I VERY much enjoyed my 3 scollops for £7, truffel risotto and 2 glasses of sauvignon