To wonder why it’s seen that upper class people don’t eat fast food?

[Desecratethebathroom]

I always see it said that upper class people wouldn’t be seen dead in Mcdonalds etc but it’s a strange urban myth?

I am upper class and I cannot resist a Big Arch or a box of nuggets. Even more so the breakfast menu has me salivating.

So AIBU to think this is a silly urban myth?

You are slozenger on another thread (To think we shouldn’t have to contribute to soch if we don’t intend to use it?) and I claim my £5.

You accused me of something and then expect me to do the work to figure out what you are on about?

Seriously, go away you strange poster.

Snap 😂

Wow! The claws are out today!

Oh. I meant, erm, high tea. Ahem.
😁

I've known a number of upper class people and they are obsessed with social status, and assume everyone beneath them is too. It's wild. They have no idea how 'ordinary' people think. OP is very much true to type.

Oh, sweetheart, you are very confused about life in general, as well as social class. Get out more. Meet actual people.

I'm King Charles, don't care if this is iting (as we posher peeps spell 'outing').
I think it's a carbuncle. If Maccy D did a pheasant burger, I'd probably chow down on it, but Camilla and I prefer a kebab, which we get delivered from Deliveroo.

I’m an endentured peasant and I live on home grown organic lentils.

Honestly. People of higher social class probably eat less fast food - they have lower rates of obesity, which suggests they have a better (more natural, less processed) diet on average. But that doesn’t mean none of them ever eat it, any more than the higher rates of obesity in lower socioeconomic groups mean that none of them ever eat a vegetable.

There is a range of behaviours in any group.

Isn't this perception due to proven to health inequalities?

There are significantly more fast food outlets (and more advertising for fast food outlets) in deprived areas.

Why are you so boringly obsessed with class?

Deleted

I am a Papal Countess and a member of the Order of the Golden Fleece and I love a Greggs steak bake.

And that hits the nail on the head.

Oo I don’t know about that. Lots of the upper class bunch that I know are really struggling massively to keep up with the maintenance on their massive family seats. Change in agricultural inheritance tax rules has come as a blow too. Upper middle classes have way more disposable income in general!

Our neighbours are titled (low level) and live in a house that looks like downton abbey, but can’t afford to send their kids to the local prep school where ours go, or even go on holiday more than once a year or so 🤷🏻‍♀️

Landed gentry - "landed" means that you own enough farmland that your income from tenant farmers etc is enough that none of the family need to do any actual work, you just absorb the profits generated by the land you own as worked bt others. "gentry" means that at least some of your fanily tree is detailed in Debretts

I love Paddington (he's definitely a little cutie, 😊) and I love marmalade sandwiches too (as I had some for lunch!)

Oh sweetie, no. 1/10.

You're barely trying

We have a winner 🥇
👏 @GCSEBiostruggles bravo 🙌

😂😂😂😂😂😂

I'm upper class. My husband and I are so incredibly inbred that our joint family tree looks like spaghetti junction.

I love nothing more than to empty a KFC bucket of chicken onto an exquisite Persian rug and roll around in it.

I have a cough and your post made me laugh!

Of course dear!

Most genuine upper class people that I’ve met wouldn’t give a tinker’s cuss about what other people eat. They don’t think they are better than anybody else and they certainly don’t think anybody is jealous of them. I very much doubt you are one of them.

This thread is wild - I think we are upper middle class so probably don’t qualify for your “urban myth”, but all I know is that the queue for the Domino’s delivery at my DS’s boarding school on a Saturday night is loooooong…

I’m a minor Royal and, frankly, it’s simply not been a successful weekend if I haven’t fallen asleep on the sofa, on Friday night, with a kebab on my face.
Dahling hubby is, if anything, even more upper class than me, coming from years of increasingly inbred European Royal stock. So inbred, in fact, that his mandibular prognathism means he couldn’t enjoy a weekend abra-kebabra even if his life depended on it.