Improvement-talk Rules

Whatever your class or financial status, and whatever the value of the house you are moving into, it is customary to disparage the taste of the previous occupant. If you do not have the time, skill or funds necessary to rip out all evidence of the former owner’s bad taste, you must, when showing friends around your new house, sigh deeply, roll your eyes or grimace and say: ‘Well, it’s not what we would have chosen, obviously, but we’ll just have to live with it for the moment,’ or, more succinctly, ‘We haven’t done this room yet.’ This will also save your guests from the dire embarrassment of complimenting you on a room that has not been ‘done’, and then having to backtrack with awkward face-savers such as ‘Oh, of course, when I say “lovely” I mean the proportions, er, the view, um, er, I mean, it’s got such potential . . .’

When showing visitors the results of your DIY efforts, or talking about your home-improvements at a party or in the pub, a strict modesty rule applies. Even if you are highly skilled, you must always play down your achievements, and if possible play up your most embarrassing mistakes and blunders. The SIRC DIY-temple sample of nestbuilders, and my own department-store and pub-eavesdropping samples, invariably followed this rule – sometimes even engaging in almost competitive self-deprecation, trying to cap each other’s amusing stories of disastrous incompetence. ‘I managed to burst three pipes just laying the carpet!’ ‘We bought an expensive carpet, but I ruined it by cutting it four inches short, so I had to build some bookcases to cover the gap.’ ‘I somehow managed to put the sink in the wrong way round – and I’d done all the tiles before I noticed.’ ‘You think that’s bad: it took me an hour and three cups of tea to put up a coat-hook board, and then I found I’d hung it upside-down!’ ‘So I painted over the dodgy bit and tried to pretend it was meant to look like that, but my girlfriend was like, “You complete muppet!”’

Class Variations in House-talk Rules

House-talk, like everything else in England, is also subject to class rules. Unless you have just recently moved in and are ‘housewarming’, or happen to live in a particularly odd or unusual house (such as a converted lighthouse or church), it is considered rather lower-class to give visitors guided tours, or to invite them to inspect your new bathroom, kitchen extension, loft conversion or recently re-decorated ‘front room’. Middle-middles and below are inclined to engage in such ritual displays – and may even invite friends round specifically to show off their new conservatory or kitchen – but among upper-middles and above, this is frowned upon. Among the highest echelons of English society, this affected lack of interest is required of visitors as well as hosts: it is considered incorrect to notice one’s surroundings when visiting someone at home, and paying compliments is regarded as decidedly ‘naff’, if not downright rude. A duke was said to have huffed in outrage: ‘Fellow praised my chairs, damned cheek!’ after a visit from a new neighbour.

Some traces of this upper-class squeamishness about house-display have trickled down, at least to the middle classes: they may indulge in a bit of showing-off of conservatories and so on, but there are often hints of awkwardness or embarrassment. They will lead you to their new pride-and-joy kitchen, but will then attempt to appear dismissive or indifferent about it, making modest, self-effacing remarks such as: ‘Well, we had to do something – it had got into such a state’, damning themselves with faint praise – ‘At least it’s a bit brighter with the skylight’; or focusing on the inevitable difficulties (‘nightmares’) involved in the refurbishment: ‘It was supposed to take a week, but we’ve had plaster and dust and total chaos in here for over a month.’

Unlike the higher castes, however, these modest middles will not be offended by praise, although it is generally advisable to be vague rather than specific in your compliments. The English tend to be terribly touchy about their homes, and if you are too precise, there is always the danger of praising the wrong aspect of their latest improvement, or praising it in the wrong terms – calling a room ‘cosy’ or ‘cheerful’, say, when your hosts were aiming for an impression of stylish elegance. It is best to stick to generic expressions of approbation such as ‘lovely’ or ‘very nice’ unless you know the people well enough to be more explicit.