This morning’s breakfast show on the BBC featured an interview with a guy introduced as an “etiquette consultant”.
“An etiquette consultant!” Abel cried at the TV set. “What is that? Who on earth pays him?” He turned to me: “How do you think he makes his living.”
“Well,” I said reasonably, “if the Queen were coming ’round for tea, you’d call him up to ask what to serve her.” (I do know full well that if the Queen arrived at our door, Abel would be calling her ‘Mrs Windsor’ and asking her to help lay the table.)
Anyway, it occurred to me right away that I could, in fact, think of a way an etiquette consultant could earn a living. All he would have to do, would be to buy a cane and set up shop as a personal tutor to ambitious young ladies.
Even as a not-too-ambitious young lady, I could see myself sitting demurely with my knees together, hands folded in my lap, conversing smoothly on non-controversial topics. I would be ever so well-behaved. I would know the consequences of any errors…
OK, I feel like playing with this idea…
Daddy would have commissioned said consultant to train his daughter in the necessary social graces before Her Majesty’s visit to the family’s remote castle.
Two nights before the Queen arrived, there’d be a full-scale dress rehearsal for the formal dinner. The staff would be put through their paces, serving the same food to a group of local dignitaries (in place of the royal party).
At the end of the dinner, the daughter would be called into the library. She would have spent the evening next to the fake Prince Charles, who (unbeknownst to her) would be a colleague of the etiquette consultant.
Not-The-Prince-of-Wales would deliver his critique – praise for the things that she had done well. And then he’d draw a piece of paper from his inner pocket, and reel of the list of areas in which her manners would need to be corrected before the real visit.
Daddy, needless to say, would reach for the cane. Watched by her consultant, and the Prince Charles, her failures would be corrected in a way that would be sure to make her remember the correct protocol two nights later. Even if she would wince when sitting down for the banquet.
Hmmm..
Having taught you etiquette Haron…
I think you’re in need of a bit of practise before you se yourself up as a consultant! But you do have a very demure look
And what would be wrong with asking ‘Mrs Windsor’ to help lay the table? She might find it a novelty!
Hmm, maybe I’d better pack my bags for my forthcoming stay in the Tower!
Hmmm there could be a market for etiquette consultants amongst young ladies going off to traditional universities and not knowing how one should behave at a formal dinner, croquet party or ball…
Agree with Chloe– I certainly could have used an etiquette consultant before attending such a university. I thought semi-formal meant “please wear shoes.” Never did make it much past that stage, I’m afraid. Perhaps with the proper motivation, things would have been different…
I am really showing my age when I tell you that I went to ‘Etiquette School’ when quite young. Somewhere there is a little medal saying that I came ‘Top of the Class’.
To this day I have to put away all the things I try on in a changing room in a shop. We were told that this was simply good manners. I can’t say I remember much else except stuff like serve on the left, take from the right, how to walk a catwalk, polite conversation…..
And I was thinking that between Abel and me if Evie and Smudge would like to give us an afternoon of their time…..
My Ettiquette is acutally pretty awesome, Rob! I sit up very straight whilst I insult the elderly…