'You'll catch more flies with Manuka than balsamic': five phrases made middle-class

BETTER than everyone else, but still using their grubby tradesmen’s idioms? Indulge in these middle-class rewrites instead: 

‘Out of the air fryer, into the Aga’

Fire is outdated and contribute to climate change, which you’re more concerned about than anyone else. And they don’t keep kitchens as toasty as a good Aga so celebrate your loyalty to the brand by trading the old phrase for this new one, with connotations of swapping unhealthy fried breakfasts for a lovely baked sourdough.

‘You’ll catch more flies with Manuka than balsamic’

Vinegar is such a lower-order word, bringing to mind a ‘chippy’ in Wigan instead of the leafy lanes of Hampstead. The kind of flies you’ll be attracting should be able to tell the difference between a cheap balsamic and the Modena one you picked up from the organic grocer.

‘When life gives you lemons, make citron pressé’

When you’re drifting around the farmers’ market with a basket of Sicilian lemons, why would you turn them into anything other than a bitter, worse version of lemonade that makes you feel European and sophisticated?

‘It’s no use crying over spilt almond and cashew milk blend’

Vegan milks are expensive, but you’re on £80,000 a year, not including your bonus, and have been very fortunate with your property portfolio. Nothing that a quick call to your accountant confirms you can claim as expenses should be cried over.

‘A second home is where the heart is’

It’s so tricky. Though you might love your £1.3m Muswell Hill townhouse, you feel your most authentic self when you’re in your farmhouse in the Dordogne. Let this phrase save you from the heartache of being caught between the two.

‘The nouveau-riche and their money are soon parted’

You shake your head in disdain as the newly minted drive around town in their Lamborghinis and hulking Range Rovers. A true middle-class person stays that way by driving a modest Volvo and spending £48,000 a term on school fees.

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Homeworkers with kids begin six weeks of living hell

HOMEWORKERS with children begin six weeks of an endlessly harried logistical f**king nightmare today, they have confirmed. 

Anyone accustomed to packing their children blissfully off to be somebody else’s problem for six hours is now spending all day every day with them in their workplace for a month-and-a-half.

Copywriter and mother-of-two Hannah Tomlinson said: “The way we’re going, I’m going to be issuing a full-volume screaming bollocking before noon. And this is day one.

“I’ve got bits of childcare from grandparents, my husband’s taking time off, they’re signed up for some half-arsed summer camp, but it makes no difference. They’re still here near-constantly.

“I can’t have a meeting without urgent screams from the garden. I can’t type a sentence without one of them coming in on rollerskates. I can’t read an email without a f**king beetle being put on the laptop ‘because I looked lonely’.

“And with kids around I’m having to be the homeworker I claim to be. No morning wank, no 11am spliff, no lunchtime Love Island, no afternoon wank. It’s like lockdown all over again.”

12-year-old Sam Tomlinson said: “Goading mum to the point of banning Xbox, then watching her realise she had to back down? Beautiful. And this is day one.”