Recently, a poster called Steerforth wrote a comment on this blog about Lewes’ claim to to be the most middle class place in the UK:
“My home town of Lewes should be on the list for a number of reasons, but my chosen one is an event that took place a couple of years ago, when a group of Lewesians decided to close the streets and celebrate the life of former resident Thomas Paine…through the medium of dance. I think it was called something like the “Dance of Disobedience”. I love Lewes, but I draw the line at folk dancing.
I’ve been working with a friend on a theory that there are Ley Lines linking middle class towns and villages: Aldeburgh, Southwold, Dungeness, Whistable, Avebury, Hebden Bridge, Totnes, Forest Row etc. But I’m too lazy to develop it. The telltale signs include a market town profile, Liberal MP and absence of McDonald’s, but the coaltion government has probably changed that.”
Steerforth’s idea is excellent. Clearly I need to map these things out. It might be a good idea to try to produce an interactive googlemap soon.
I’m also very interested in this idea of middle class signifiers. It seems to me that the keystone must be Waitrose (or Booths in the North). Lewes, naturally, has one slap bang in the middle of its otherwise proudly brand-free centre.
A poster called Marina seconded Steerforth and provided the enlightening trivia nugget that there were “workshops for the ‘Dance of Disobedience’, advertised in Viva Lewes. This in turn prompted Steerforth to append the following discussion from a recent issue of the magazine:
Question – “What did you have for breakfast?”
Answer – “I had baked millet and quinoa with steamed chicory and seaweed. And a cup of sage tea. My daughter had blueberries, yoghurt and nuts.”
About which, little needs be said.
Picture credit: http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/d/d8/Lewes_wiki.jpg
I have further evidence. Since Steerforth and Marina are both in the catchment area for Viva Lewes, they probably take for granted the fact that the town name isn’t pronounced “Loos”, but “Lewis”. Anyone who does confuse the town with toilets is thus immediately marked out as an outsider. That’s to say someone who probably wouldn’t know how to eat an avocado pear, or order from ocado. Which is another good way of proving how middle class the place is. The most middle class town near my home in Norwich is called Wymondham. Pronounced Wind-ham. And there’s the biggest Waitrose I’ve ever seen on the way in there… But that’s another story.
Back to Lewes. Intrigued by Steerforth and Marina’s posts I did a bit of internet research (Okay, just wikipedia, but the information there was so rich I needed go no further). Pretty much the first thing I learned was that the town was built on the site of an old Roman settlement called Mutuantonis. Do you know what that means? You don’t? Oh dear.
I also discovered that the lucky Lewes residents are able to relax during summer months at the oldest freshwater lido in the UK. Lidos are very important to the middle classes. So much a better way of going swimming. It’s lovely because the pools are longer and you can look up at the sky as you swim on your back. Okay the water’s a bit cold, but that’s invigorating and they’re social spaces as well. It’s so great with all those people sitting around peacefully without the need for alcoholic drinks… Yes, you’re right. I never go to them either. But the idea of their presence is wonderfully reassuring.
Importantly, the wikipedia entry (which sometimes, understandably enough, reads like a propaganda missive from the town tourist information office) also mentioned that there are numerous pleasant countryside walks around Lewes. Again, such healthful outdoors attractions are important as they give you the excuse to purchase brightly coloured gore-tex clobber, Brasher boots and to dream of all the walking you could do in them.
I also learned some good facts about the Lewes economy. These I will paste below and in a different font in case you don’t share my enjoyment of a good stat:
“In 2001 the service industries were by far the biggest employers in Lewes: over 60% of the population working in that sector. A little over 10% are employed in manufacturing, mostly in the smaller industrial units, particularly those in The Mallings Business Centre.
“The town is a net daytime exporter of employees with a significant community working in London and Brighton whilst it draws in employees of the numerous local government and public service functions on which its local economy is strongly dependent.”
“The Lewes Chamber of Commerce represents the traders and businesses of the town.[25] The town has been identified as unusually diversified with numerous specialist, independent retailers, counter to national trends toward ‘chain’ retailers and large corporate retail outlets.”
In case you did skip, what that means in a nutshell is that few people in Lewes get their hands dirty. I’d also be interested to learn what the people in those industrial units do. If a healthy proportion of them don’t involve pottery, crafts, ‘art’ and/or bike repairs I will post a video of myself eating a print out of these very words as my next post on this blog. It’s also worth noting how many people commute from Lewes. The hours we middle classes spend stuck in cars and on trains are vital contributors to the gradual decline from idealism and hope we all suffer. It’s those long hours listening to other people’s ringtones or jockeying for position at roundabouts that make us hate our fellow man enough to turn into ageing bitter Tories.
On the subject of which the political element in Lewes’ history does cause a few issues relating to its middle class status. Or at least, defines it as a very particular type of middle class town. The type inhabited by people whose collective term is “Guardianista.” Lewes, you see, has a bit of revolutionary history. One that is far enough in the past to make it almost entirely safe. No chance of flying bricks interrupting your evening gin and tonic out on the decking. But still enough of a whiff of subversion to annoy our friends (okay, enemies) on the right.
First, there’s all that business with the bonfire. Burning the Pope is not what my mum would call ‘nice’. Seeing himself go up in flames in cardboard form is probably more than the current incumbent deserves, but still there’s a bit too much Bacchus there for the Daily Mail types.
And then there’s the aforementioned Thomas Paine, the renowned pamphleteer, scourge of royalty, voice of the common man and author of The Voice Of Reason.
Lewes has really played hard on the Thomas Paine connection. An entirely sensible thing to do in terms of attracting the American tourist dollar, and commemorating an astonishing fellow. But such promotion might not sit easily with the non-Guardian-reading elements of the middle class. I know, because not too long ago, I visited Thetford, a town that would be otherwise unremarkable, if a certain Thomas Paine hadn’t been born and spent most of his formative years there. Arguably far more important years than the ones he spent in Lewes, although Thetford has been far less keen to capitalise. There is, at least, this statue:
But when this statue was first mooted in the 1960s, a Tory town councillor declared it “an insult to the town” and tried to stop its erection. When that failed, his council tried to get an inscription about Paine being a “traitor” engraved alongside the current inspiring inscription: “My country is the world, my religion is to do good.”
I suppose that proves it takes all sorts to make even a privileged and comfortable middle class world. I’m still open to persuasion about Lewes though, alongside a significant hankering to take a holiday there….
The above is a good overview of Lewes for those not familiar with it. Although there are key things you left out, about local economy for example:- like the fact that we actually have our own currency, The Lewes Pound!
Yes, it’s true, there are lots of artists and crafts-people here, I am myself one and until very recently, my husband travelled everyday into the City. That isn’t as unusual as it sounds, a very large proportion of Lewes residents are Londoners that have decided to relocate here, but keep working there. In fact we have our own local label, “DFL”, which means “Down from London”! We personally fell in love with the place whilst living here during our university years at Sussex and came back a few years later. Although many grads refuse to leave at all, judging by our circle of friends!
Come to Lewes for a holiday, you might just end up deciding to stay. If you do and you have young children, put them into my childrens’ school. In year 6, they get to go to Glyndebourne for opera lessons, what could be more middle class than that?!
A pretty accurate assessment – anyone would think that you’d spent a few days here.
I’d never heard of Wymondham, but it makes perfect sense. A friend of mine works at Waitrose’s head office and when she reels off a list of new branch openings, there doesn’t seem any logic to them until you realise that although Little Sodbury is ten times smaller then Chavenham, the village green looks like a BMW showroom.
You’re partly right about the industrial estates, but one of the good things about Lewes is that it’s still a working town that serves a large catchment area, so for every carft and bike repair unit, there’ll be another selling building trade supplies.
One other surprise about Lewes is that it has one of the highest percentages of local authority housing in the county (although most of it has been built in a Soweto-style township, deep within the flood plain).
Sadly, the most of the “proper” shops have been replaced by chi-chiboutiques selling jeans for £100 – don’t bother trying to buy a loo roll in the town centre – and while the Lewes pound is a nice idea, it doesn’t go very far in the kitchenware shop that sells bowls for £20.
Yes, like you, I like the idea of the lido, but would I ever go there? Probably not. Apart from anything, it’s freezing. (They have a naturist day there once a year!)
Marina’s right about the DFLs, although I’d rename it DFNL, hence Lewes’s other name: Islington-on-the-Downs. But in fact most of these DFLs aren’t really from London. Many of the people I meet in Lewes seem to follow a familiar trajectory: they grow up in the shires, go to university, move to London because that’s where the work is and stay there until they have a baby.
At this point, they suddenly decide that North London probably doesn’t quite offer the right quality of life for little Millie and as much as they love the vibrant, multicultural environment, they’re worried about the schools and lack of green spaces.
The DFL dream is to sell-up, buy a house in Lewes and pay off the mortgage (I have completely failed in this respect and I’m now poorer than I was in Twickenham).
Re: Marina’s other comment – my son’s school weren’t offered opera lessons, but they did have a school trip to Glyndebourne a few weeks ago, to see Rossini’s La Ceneretola (I pulled him out of the trip because I thought it was ridiculous to expect an 11-year-old-boy to sit through two hours of Italian opera when he can’t even handle a pantomime).
As far as the town’s “radical” heritage is concerned, you’re spot on and the Guardian is the best selling newspaper in my local newsagent. I don’t now why Lewes bangs on about Thomas Paine so much – he only lived here for six years!
But although there are things about Lewes that annoy me (particularly the poncy types who parade around the town in Bohemian clothing with a smug expression that says “I’ve opted out of the rat race” when you know that actually they’ve just inherited a lot of money from Daddy), I love it here. It’s a quirky, eccentric place, full of architectural gems and surrounded by beautiful countryside. Brighton’s 15 minutes away; London is just over an hour.
Also, I may mock the “radical chic”, but I like the fact that most of the people I’ve met here are open-minded, progessive types, who try to practice what they preach. When a field was sold by a local firm a few years ago, the county council wanted to turn it into a car park for their staff. Instead, a group of local residents clubbed together and bought the field, then made it available for the people of Lewes to enjoy. Baxter’s Field (http://www.baxtersfield.co.uk/) represents everything that I love about Lewes.
Thank you! What a great set of comments. I like the idea of Lewes more and more the more I hear about it. While also thinking I’d find it pretty amusing.
You’re right I should have looked into the Lewes pound Marina, and baxtersfield is a splendid idea.
(Would love to write more, but I have the most astonishingly unpleasant flu today, which is having a bad effect on my brain… In fact I had it when I wrote the blog yesterday, so I’m glad it made sense… Will try to respond more fully anon.)
Now I don’t leave London if I can help it but I have been to Wymondham because it is the home of George Szirtes, poet and winner of the TS Eliot Prize, and his artist wife Clarissa Upchurch.
Foe the record, the issue of Waitrose and the middle class is a little more fissured and fractured than you sneeringly make out. Here in Crouch End we first had the opportunity to get a Waitrose back in the early 90s but it was nixed by a campaign of local busybodies who said it would bring cars into the area. They wanted to get in their cars and drive to someone else’s area. We then had to sit it out for a further 17 years with only a Budgens, until a year ago when Waitrose took over the defunct Woolworths where generations of North London children had honed their shoplifting skills.
Once again the campaigners arose, putting out leaflets about how ‘Haterose’ was not welcome. They were perfectly happy to see the Woolworths remain a decaying and unlettable eyesore, with no proposals as to what it should become other than ‘the Council could turn it into an arts centre.’
Fortunately Haringey Council ignored the grumbles of this small clique of malcontents and we now have our Waitrose. Though still no tube station. We like to think that makes us a bit special.
Actually, to be fair, I should point out that Budgens had been taken over by a new manager. Whereas before its extensive selection of Pot Noodles and plastic-wrapped Cheddar had been second to none, he had brought in locally sourced and organic products and became the subject of a profile in the Independent. So there was anxiety that Waitrose would close it down. An unfounded fear, though personally I haven’t been in there once since Waitrose opened. Causing ill-feeling between me and Becky Swift, daughter of Margaret Drabble who is resolutely boycotting Waitrose.
Superb. Thank you. I see I need to take a more nuanced approach to Waitrose. It is still a supermarket after all, upon which we all must frown.
Coincidentally, I went to Crouch End (and indeed stepped into the Waitrose) this weekend. I thought it would make a very good subject after Lewes. Now that I know it was too middle class for Waitrose…
I very much enjoyed my visit. Pushing the pram around was difficult, because all the angry-looking men in architects’ glasses storming round with their own three-wheelers don’t give any quarter… But I did like the look of the place. It could certainly be a contender. I was especially impressed by all the cafes we were unable to get into, because we hadn’t booked… The concept of booking ahead in order to have a coffee and babycinno is most odd. We eventually found a place that didn’t have tasteful wooden furniture or organic smoothies. Naturally it was almost empty, although just a few doors down from the other places. (One of which was so full, it appeared to be steaming and had condensation dripping down the windows…) The non-fancy cafe provided one of the best espressos I’ve had in London… Which just goes to show.
(I’ve met George Szirtes here in Norwich. He seemed very charming. He has a very positive influence on the local area too, as far as I can make out. A top flight poet with a sense of humour is a boon…)
Anyway, I’d love to write more and will soon. Am pleased to report that the flu has been beaten back by stern doses of Lemsip and Nurofen. But now my better half has come down with it, so I’m on babysitting duty. Up until two minutes ago that wasn’t really a problem, but she’s just started pulling the handles off our dresser (Yes! I’ve got a slightly beaten up dresser…Every middle class home should have one…) So I’d better start paying her some more attention.
Oh! Before I do, I notice I’ve just been tweeted by @vivalewes. I feel privileged indeed.
They write: “Liked your blog and the comments. Lewes is a complex and fascinating place. You really should come and visit.”
I shall visit. I’m sure I’d love it.
One advantage of the Crouch End Waitrose is that while in the queue you can explain to Peter Bradshaw, film critic of the Guardian, that you went to see that film he recommended and didn’t like it.
Oh please. Everyone in Waitrose Crouch End is a massive fan of Thai auteur Apichatpoing Weerasethakul
I liked the Waitrose in Crouch End. It stocked those kashmiri chillies I’ve been after for ages. (I got some super posh £3 sardines, too.)
Re. Steerforth’s original ley line comment – Sam you do realise we’ve visited/stayed in most of those places? … (Is this amusing or shameful?)
When are we going to eat those? I hope they’re line caught.
And yes, we have been to a lot of them haven’t we. No shame. But amusing all the same.
Can I add Abingdon in Oxfordshire to your ley lines theory. We have Waitrose, and thanks to Harwell and Culham nearby have a very high percentage of graduates living there and we have not one but two independent bookshops. OK we have a poundland and McDonalds (on the edge of town though). We also throw buns off the roof of the town hall on big occasions and have a long tradition of Morris dancing and a local fun Mayoral election too.
Thank you Annabel! Great suggestion. I know Abingdon quite well – and ghave often been to Mostly Books, a very splendid shop. I didn’t know about the bread thing though. I’ll look into that. I very much enjoy all these odd traditions. It hadn’t occurred to me that they would be so important to the middle classes…
Your comments on Lewes rang true and prompted me to respond or at least take up the baton or flaming torch perhaps…
I enjoy this blog a lot. However, it’s really about the upper middle classes – or rather, a particularly liberal section of it – rather than the “middle” middle class itself, which is busy reading the Daily Mail and living in places like Bromley, and not worrying itself in the slightest bit about ethical sourcing, yoga or anything similar.
Thanks for the kind words Phil. And yes, I fear you are right. How to expand?! Part of the reason I started this blog is because I was beginning to realise how narrow my own horizons were. Which has supplied plenty of comedy. But does make it hard for me to reach out to Mr and Mrs Daily Mail in Bromley. I shall have to think of something after Christmas.
I’ve been thinking along similar lines. When we talk about the middle classes, there’s an assumption that they are liberal-left Guardian/Independent-reading types who can tell you when the asparagus season begins. But what about the Telegraph readers who sport “I SLOW DOWN FOR HORSES” stickers on the backs of their mud-splattered Landrovers? Or indeed the Daily Mail readers, who do something in sales and send their children to the local independent school?
I got a free copy of the Middle Class Handbook (I’m sure you’ve already visited their website, but here’s the link for others: http://www.middleclasshandbook.co.uk/) recently and although I liked their attempt to identify the different strands of the middle classes, I didn’t recognise many of the stereotypes. Maybe I need to get out more.
All of this is very true. “The middle class” is actually very hard to define. There are very different types within the boundaries and this blog clearly only really concentrates on one of them at the moment… I may try to broaden things out slightly (am thinking of writing something about Slough, in fact, Steerforth. I once gave a reading at the Waterstones there… I think it was Waterstones. In 2003, I think… Was that during your time?). Alternatively, I may need to think of a different way of describing the people I’m talking about at the moment…
Meanwhile, I sometimes think I need to get out more too. Then I go and discover I’m probably happier staying in, after all.
Oddly enough, Waterstone’s have just announced that they’re closing their Slough branch next year.
When you went there, the shop in Slough was an Ottakar’s. From the moment the branch opened it made a loss, partly because the catchment area didn’t have enough book buyers, but also because the rent was ridiculously high – about £120,000 p/a.
I became the manager in 1997 and spent a mere 16 months in Slough, but it felt like an eternity. It was a depressing experience on so many levels, but I tried to remain positive (it helped that my assistant manager was like a lost member of the Mitford sisters) and almost managed to get the shop into profit.
Managing Slough became a tour of duty for anyone new to Ottakar’s.
I left in 1999, to open a new branch of Ottakar’s in the Science Museum.
That’s astonishing rent. There’s a good story somewhere about high street rents and the way they’ve forced out everyone but the chains… I remember they were pretty pleasant in the bookshop in Slough, even though only about 12 people turned up to see me say rude things about the town… The audience were kind too. All of them seemed to agree.
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