When I was growing up, regional accents were quite firmly delineated. If you came from Birmingham, for example, you spoke Brummie. That is, unless you were posh. In which case, wherever you lived, you spoke the same BBC English – or received pronunciation. Speaking ‘correctly’ was a determiner of class, like a grounding in Latin. If you met someone who spoke RP, you knew they’d probably had a similar education. Even today, when certain people ask, ‘where did you go to school?’ what they really mean is, ‘which public school did you go to?’
I once spent two miserable months working in a housing association, where my accent made me a target for some of my less open-minded colleagues
The problem with ‘talking posh’ when I was growing up was that you stuck out. Attempts to disguise my accent made me sound ridiculous. If I adopted the local vernacular, my dad would bellow: ‘I haven’t paid good money for you to sound like that!’ Speaking the way I did could lead to awkwardness.
Comments
Join the debate for just $5 for 3 months
Be part of the conversation with other Spectator readers by getting your first three months for $5.
UNLOCK ACCESS Just $5 for 3 monthsAlready a subscriber? Log in