• Next in the pointless history of me in 100 objects is this:

    Tea 
    I'm something of a purist when it comes to tea – always made in a warmed pot, pou r the milk in the mug first etc. I'm also pretty loyal to my beloved Yorkshire Tea.

    But my Grandmother, who instilled much of this ritualistic fetish wouldn't be proud of me. She always used leaves. She didn't care about the mess when you cleaned the pot and I can still see her now, with her little tea strainer over the cup, making sure no bits got in my drink. I loved her very much, she was so kind, never spent any money on herself, she saved it all for her daughter (my Mum) and us.

    I remember there was always an aura of sadness and loneliness around her. She didn't want for friends, and she lived until she was 90 largely by keeping active. Charity shops, the over 60's club, she did it all. But her husband, her Fred,dies before I was born and despite living a full life, she always missed him terribly. And when she died, ten years ago now, I missed, and still miss her.

    So in honour of her, I bought this teapot to do it properly. And it does taste better, but it's not just right. My Grandmother would have ignored the new fangled contraption in favour of a proper china pot and her tea strainer. And she's right, some improvements might make things more convenient, but they don't make things better.

    So I'll be buying some more leaf tea, a proper strainer and every now and then, do it properly and raise my china cup to the memory of the kindest woman I ever knew.

  • You may have noticed I'm appreciative, on the whole, about the things account handlers do. Not least because I was a distinctly below average one myself.

    Suit 

    Like most brilliantly reliable things, you only really miss them when they're gone. The account director I work with is off on paternity leave for two weeks and trying to do even a faint approximation of his job makes me respect what he does all the more. Stress, stress, stress.

  • If anything sums up the English, it's social awkwardness. We're useless at relation or communicating with others. It's normal here to never talk to strangers in queue or on a bus – it's a social no no, mostly because we just don't know how to do it.

    Here we don't complain loudly, there is just the subtle 'tutting' when someone jumps the queue. We rarely complain in restaurants that don't serve us well and we often still tip, promising ourselves we will simply never go back.

    Neighbours tend to be people who just live next door, we don't know them very well but say hello to them everday. Redundancies, illness and other significant stuff will be a complete secret. We are open, welcoming and tactile with our pets, but rarely other human beings.

    So we're incredibly private and guarded. So much of how we communicate is built on irony, chronic false modesty and should rarely be taken at face value. We hate earnestness and pomposity and love to cut people down to size, because if there's one thing we hate more than earnestness, it's boasting and showing off.

    No wonder ironic, subtle, self deprecating  advertising is so succesful and so loved by English people. Little mystery then why we tend to hate boastful, earnest and, dare I say it, American advertising.

    Every country will have their own social and cultural patterns that will dictate how they respond to popular culture of which advertising is a facet., and something that rarely comes up in the kind of focus groups global (or local!) companies use to help develop strategy and creative development. But if you're developing any kind of multi-national campaign, you need to take this into account.