I have always been disappointed by my level of sophistication. In my head I’m aiming for Lauren Bacall meets Ava Gardner, in reality it’s more Hattie Jacques meets Marge Simpson.
Nowhere is my failure more apparent than in the arena of biscuits. Screen sirens of yesteryear would probably sit down to a small, but powerful espresso accompanied by an unfiltered Gauloise cigarette and a slim biscuit with a delicate hint of nuttiness. For me, elevenses are not elevenses without a vat of tea and a small stack of jammy dodgers.
Ah, Jammy Dodgers – the Carry On films of the biscuit world. Not cool, not classy, indeed juvenile in the extreme, but in my world faultless.
I would like to redeem myself by at least insisting on choosing the original brand, but to honest, I’m just as happy with the own brand Jam Sandwich affairs.
In fact, my only preference is purely aesthetic, in that I am rather keen on the versions that have a little heart at the centre, almost as though Kath Kidston, bored of adding chintz to every other part of our lives, had decided to redesign our snacks too.
At the same time, I have to admit that The Big Sleep would have been a slightly less classy affair had Lauren Bacall been sporting crumbs all over her tailored suit and the odd jammy residue between her teeth. Ms Jacques, however, could carry off that look with aplomb. ‘Ohh, Matron!’