'Inheritance' and other words only rich people need now

LANGUAGE evolves all the time. And the way the UK is going, poor people will soon have no need for these words at all.


This archaic word used to mean a passing down of wealth from one generation to the next, usually in the event of death. Try saying it to a poor person soon and they’ll furrow their brow in angry confusion. ‘What is this wealth of which you speak?’ they’ll grunt while eating their bowl of turnip and grass stew.


Not to be confused with pissed. Piste is the name of the slope that rich people go to on their skiing holidays. These jaunts may well cost the same as your salary. Never mind piste though, you should be more worried about never having to use these words again: ‘abroad’, ‘passport’ and ‘holiday’.


Equity is the value of an item or property after debts have been subtracted. Rich people have equity calculated on their property, which they let out in turn to make a tasty little sum on the side. Poor people will soon have equity calculated on their organs, which might make them a bit of money on the black market after they’re dead.

Summer house

Britons people have a vague understanding of what ‘summer’ is, but ‘house’ fell out of usage ages ago. Those old enough to remember the concept of houses have mentally filed them away next to Medieval castles, because that’s how grand and fantastical they sound. Little do they know that summer houses are quaint little dwellings where rich people go to have affairs.


Rich people with kids offload them onto a nanny. Sort of like how regular people drop the kids at their grandparents’ for a weekend of peace and unbroken sleep. Yeah, a nanny would be f**king excellent. But you can forget that, and at least you’ve ruled out your kids turning into 12-year-old wankers in suits perusing share prices in the FT like a certain youthful Mr Rees-Mogg.


Everyone is born with teeth, but only rich people are privileged enough to keep them into adulthood. Poor people will likely lose them all by adolescence thanks to bad nutrition and extortionate, inaccessible dental care. Therefore the word teeth will become redundant and get replaced with something like ‘mouth rocks’ or a series of caveman-like grunts.

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Menswear, and other bands no one would give a shit about if they reformed

REFORMING to cash in on nostalgia is a common way for bands to make some money in their twilight years. Although these unmissed acts really needn’t bother.

Blazin’ Squad

Yes, the hip hop group topped the charts with Crossroads, but that was in 2002. Times have changed. Attack of the Clones came out that year, but you’re hardly clamouring to watch that again either. Crossroads wasn’t even an original Blazin’ Squad composition, proving that their cultural impact was basically a parasitic fluke.

Fast Food Rockers

A novelty band whose short-lived career felt like an elaborate tax write-off. In retrospect their despairingly catchy song, which listed the names of various fast food outlets, feels like a grim precursor to the viral success of Baby Shark Dance. And for this they should never be forgiven, let alone allowed to perform to a homecoming crowd of obligated friends and relatives.

Metro Station

With their sweeping side-fringes and ironic waistcoats, Metro Station were the nadir of Noughties emo culture. Like the Great Depression or the blitz, this was an era which people who lived through it want to forget, not relive in an overpriced arena. Plus they only had one hit that anyone can remember, which is not grounds enough for a reunion.

The Cheeky Girls

Thankfully, Gabriela and Monica Irimia seem to be aware that their careers as musicians are over, as they both now work in a car dealership in York. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, it’s good honest work and their royalties probably went through the floor years ago. It does mean they might subject you to their back catalogue if you try to extend your warranty on a Nissan Qashqai though.


Sadly a Menswear reunion feels inevitable. The band only formed at the height of Britpop to have a quick suckle on that lucrative teat, but with Blur and Pulp touring again it’s likely only a matter of time until they hit the road. Let the prospect of them performing in a Doncaster bingo hall be a warning of the fickle nature of Britpop fame.