The posher the better actually. Mind you I’m not a fan of posh spice as I’m not sure she is proper posh to be honest. And proper posh is what today is all about.
I feared that posh people may be a dying breed. I’ve felt this for a long time as the chav era expands and we lose manners and good old fashioned discipline and culture.
But, just when I thought posh was part of a bygone era, up pops my favourite posh person. Enter Jacob Rees-Mogg.
I think Jacob or as I like to refer to him - the Jay-Man - is probably the poshest person alive in the UK. And the best thing about it is he doesn’t need to prove it.
The Jay-man doesn’t fell obliged to overtly show off his posh-ness. No, it comes naturally. No finger buffets with pickled onions and cheese cubes on sticks at his parties. No fancy “signature” pieces of furniture from art shops adorning his living room. And no need for fancy pants gadgets in the kitchen.
I bet he has an wood-faired range that heats half his manor.
And that is why the current Prime Minister sent him up to see the Queen at Balmoral this week. Who else would one send to Her Majesty at a time of crisis than the poshest person in the UK.
And I bet she just loved it. Of course we have been told the ceremony was all brief and business like. But, I bet she couldn’t wait to offer Jacob tea afterwards. I bet they both loved it actually as proper posh meets Royal posh. What one might call a posh-fest.
A stroke of genius on the part of the Prime Minister.
But, Jacob is more than just a posh voice with posh little spectacles and twin stripe suits.
No, this chap is clever and educated and cultured and a presenter on LBC no less. And it is by listening to him on the tranny that one gets a full appreciation of what it means to posh. Otherwise I would not access to him. While taking questions from the public, who by the way adore him, he excels in his answers.
Not only can he make vastly complicated problems of statute and parliamentary procedure seem clear and reasonable to people like me, but he always comes across as so credible and honest. In fact, there times when I think, he and I could be good buddies and he could babysit the kids while I head to yoga. He would like I do yoga and not play five-a-sides. Puts me in the posh bracket.
And while he is posh, he is also a self made millionaire running his own investment business.
So, while not aristocratically funded and posh, he is self-made posh. This gives him even more credibility in the posh leagues as he has gotten his hands dirty.
The Jay-man has worked for his dough and is now bringing this ethic to politics.
I don’t know where he gets the time?
But to be fair, as he is so posh, he doesn’t do the chores that we do.
Only this week, I was doing my ironing. Crazily I find it therapeutic. I listened to the radio and Jacob was being interviewed. And at that moment I knew I was not and never going to be posh. I didn’t have a butler. No, Jacob doesn’t appear to like to do the washing, ironing or the putting away of clothes. As proper posh he has a personal butler who looks after all that sort of thing. And that is exactly what I am going to get if I win the £107 million on the Euromillions tonight.
From the same place the Jay-man got his. There must be school for butler somewhere and I want the top of the class.
Living outside Westminster is all fine and well for many. But not Jacob. No, he has purchased a big hoose just along the road for the Palace of Westminster. Not making a statement of intent or showing off his cash. But, a signal that while he may not ever be the head honcho at No 10 Downing Street, he jolly well could buy it and Number 11 if he wanted to. And it lets his kids know where they belong in life. Deeply embedded with posh people. I don’t think they will ever ride the tube or DLR on sweltering hots days.
I honesty cannot think of a more decent chap living on there islands who could scoop the national award - poshest man in Britain. Jacob would win it hands down, then give an eloquent speech leaving us laughing and in awe at his demeanour and humility. If you get the chance and want a lesson in proper posh from the number one parliamentarian of our times, then get listing to the radio.
Jacob is not hiding away in his castle somewhere plotting and shooting. No, he is a man of the people and is not afraid to mix it up a little.
If you do know anyone posher I’d be surprised. But, up until that time, Hail Jacob Rees-Mogg, the poshest man in Britain.