Related Posts with Thumbnails
The Book

Out now at Amazon | Waterstones

Middle Class Handbook on Twitter
Chattering Class

Leicester City overkill

Yes we get it, it's lovely. But can we talk about something else now?

Online petitions

Please sign our online petition to have them banned


The new Frozen

Artisan marshmallows


The word “artisan”


Discussing sourdough recipes

You buy it? Might as well wear a Burberry baseball cap

Getting the right shade of fake tan

“Just enough to stop my legs looking like something I dug up”

Travelling off-peak on rural branchline trains


Pointless gadgets made by start-ups

Usually no better than Innovations catalogue stuff

Latest Comments
The Periodic Table of the Middle Class
This form does not yet contain any fields.

    Zombie friends


    For some users of Facebook, there comes a point quite early on in their membership when the real palss on their friends list are swamped by dozens and dozens of zombie-friends.

    Zombie friends are people who you once knew, but have not been in touch with for years, so they seem to rising from the graveyards of your old address books. Not infrequently, the comments they leave on their or your pages seem so horrifically cringeworthy that they remind you why you never stayed in touch. Longing to be rid of them, but unwilling to cause offence by removing them from your friends list, you can begin to develop a disgusted, baffled, fascination; are people really like that? Why?

    I mention this because I recently friended a female zombie-friend whose postings so mystified me I had to ask my wife to try to explain them. The baffling element was Zombie’s relentless, unconvincing, my-fabulous-life sunniness. There were at least three updates day: “Been to RA Summer Exhibition – amazing!! Now looking for sexy-but-tasteful dress for dinner with Jake!” “Finishing Charlie and Lola cake for Amelia’s birthday!” “Am soooo missing Port Eliot this year, kiss to all my girls there! XOXOXO” “Listening to Satie – don’t you think he’s the most divine composer?” And so on. And on.

    These messages were mixed with others saying how “mad busy” she was - which to me seemed strange because if I was mad busy, I would try saving time by not posting on Facebook. Even stranger than this, though, was that I I didn’t remember her talking or acting like this at all in real life; in real life she was nice, a bit geeky, chatty and sympathetic. Sad, really, but then this is England after all; it was probably inevitable that Facebook would be co-opted into Hyacinth Bouquet culture.