Highgate Mums

by Dan Hall

  Don’t be fooled into thinking the collapse of the world’s economy doesn’t hit N6 just as hard as anywhere else in the country. Atop the hill, the pain of unemployment can be witnessed first-hand, decimating families, ripping through the self-respect and confidence of men, women and children alike:

  Highly perplexed middle-aged couple in Lidl complaining they’ve no lobster in stock. @dominictlister

  ‘You’re not telling me that people don’t look and think he’s professionally underachieving because she’s out working.’

  ‘First thing to say is that New York and Bali are not long enough to be called holidays.’

  ‘The kids have to lose the tertiary playroom. It’s a luxury we just can’t afford anymore.’

  ‘If it carries on, she will have to forego the pony!’ (@xxdy)

  My five-year-old burst into tears yesterday when I told her we weren’t going to Wagamama for dinner. (@Geebee_H)

  ‘One day, one day I’ll be able to put myself first again. (sigh) And sourcing this new au pair is a pain I can do without.’

  It’s impossible to judge the N6 mood towards poverty and recession. Sometimes there is incredible empathy, sometimes a dazzling failure of thought. But it certainly does sit uneasily on everybody’s radar:

  ‘The problem with the Montessori in Archway is the people they have to pass on the way. But the place is fantastic.’

  ‘It might sound trivial, but a housing crisis is a crisis of one’s own. And shitty grouting can ruin three new bathrooms. You see?’

  Local press headline: Hampstead residents launch ‘humanitarian appeal’ over Mansion Tax. (@BenjaminRamm)

  ‘I have the school run, flute practice and a personal training session. Who could possibly work and have kids?’

  ‘We’re saving money like everyone these days. Egypt hols are now only two weeks and I’m not going to Los Angeles again until February.’

  Until February! Goodness knows how long it would be were it not for the brilliant cost-control that the HM have put into place. In their defence, there seems a rather distinct lack of fiscal management from their metropolitan partners. And those who have children tell me that they’re a ghastly drain on finances. At least these HM are managing the finances well enough to keep their latte dads in unused gym memberships and to fund their pseudo-macho interest in ‘real ale’ nights at the local pub:

  ‘It boils down to asking how many times I have to hand over £15k here, £20k there, before demanding some sort of update.’

  ‘We need to decide about how much we can over-max the Princess Party budget without seeking approval from the group.’

  ‘All of us around this table can afford expensive and better if we just work hard enough.’

  ‘If my breakout space has to be another room then so be it. He’ll have to make the budget stretch.’

  Growing up in lovely suburban semi in Finchley (North London), I used to assume that friends who lived in apartments were either from Paris or had a parent in prison. How come they didn’t live in houses? As an adult, I totally don’t understand this logic one bit. But it does give me a tinge of guilt to laugh at the next selection:

  I heard this loudly in a shop: ‘Poor people shouldn’t be allowed to have children.’ (@PedallingSolo)

  Latte Dad on the high street: ‘If you have to work 40h a week to earn enough, then you’re not getting paid enough.’

  ‘I’ve never met a hard-working person without a job.’

  ‘If you really want a garden with all your heart, you’ll find a way to afford it.’

  ‘Why do the poor eat junk instead of fruit and nuts?’

  Apparently I once asked my mum if the people I’d seen on an allotment were peasants. (@UncannyVal)

  ‘Their gardens are so nice you’d never guess they were public housing.’

  ‘How can they really claim poverty when they have a television? Or carpets?’

  In N6 there is always some bastard with a bigger house. Rumour is that shirtless world leader Vladimir Putin has turned Witanhurst House into his ‘flee-Russia-if-needs-be’ pad. How can the HM possibly compete with that?

  ‘Of course you’d never know it to look at them but (looks around, hushed voice) the Chinese are the ones with all the money.’

  ‘She says she has no money, then tells everyone about all the trees she wants to donate to Highgate Woods.’

  ‘There’s no money in banking any more. It’s all about oil.’ (@KHWorsley)

  But a determination to push on through is the hallmark of the HM. A stoicism for the 21st century. Through the pinch they’ll find a way to budget, to earn a bit extra, and to fight to keep the N6 flag flying:

  ‘Jasmine loves baby ballet, and it gives me time to work on my interior design business.’ (@hayliclifton)

  ‘We hear you. Though we really couldn’t live without our fortnightly family trips to the Barbican.’ (@WinchesterMummy)

  ‘He says we have to save money and I’m not allowed my “me alone” holiday. But if he can watch football on Sky, I can go to Florence.’

  ‘There’s no need to pick up the bill! I was perfectly happy to pick it up the last two times.’

  ‘I don’t need job accountability. I’ve got three children, for God’s sake!’

  And if nothing else, the financial crash has hopefully fostered a sense of empathy for the less well-off. Well, sort of:

  (to child) ‘So who are we supporting in the World Cup? Remember it needs to be a poor country. We’ll up their spirits!’

  ‘See her playing in the washing basket? She’s loving it! There’s no way poor children need money for toys.’

  ‘Why are poor children in India always smiling?’

  Then again...

  ‘I’m never horrible, I mean I’m not but she needs sacking, pure and simple!’ (@RussellMinton)

  So is the HM just a spoilt brat, complaining that there aren’t the finances to replace the kitchen every three years? If so, I don’t think it’s deliberate. They just don’t know. There is a lot of empathy but it’s mixed with genuine confusion:

  ‘He has money to play football on Sundays with his friends, so why can’t we afford the long weekend in Jo’burg?’

  And whilst subbing this chapter, the space bar of this old laptop has also started to stick a bit. Or at least I’m telling myself that. Because not that far into my psyche I’m thinking that the next book should be written on a nice new machine. The narrative would deserve it. Something that is fresh, bright, light, and has that new-Mac feel and smell...

  MUMMY’S VOICE

  ‘She asked why English people don’t make coffee in Starbucks. I said because of Tony Blair. I’m so proud that she found it funny.’

  An early episode of Absolutely Fabulous featured a furious Edina Monsoon in court, filled with rage at the stupidity of people. ‘Just have a stupidity tax! Only tax the stupid people!’ she screamed. I suspect there were a lot of nodding heads in N6:

  ‘If you don’t have a portable chiller she’s not even bothering to answer emails.’

  ‘She’s a great PA but there’s only so far you can go without the love of children. At the very least nieces and nephews.’

  ‘I don’t want you thinking I use her sinuses as a get-out-of-jail card.’

  ‘What next? A suggestion to get a builder in from some high street?’

  ‘I’m aware that I can be overbearing. At the next meeting I will take a step back and let the smaller people talk.’

  And crikey, in those moments where the HM feels the podium is theirs, the gloves really can come off:

  ‘SHE HAS ABSOLUTELY NO SENSE OF HOW

  LOUD

  SHE CAN BE’

  ‘She made that laughable mistake of thinking that I was like her.’

  ‘Yes. That’s very, very, very nice. (Pause) Personally I would have done it differently.’

  ‘It’s some sort of outreach in Crouch End, though God only knows what she hopes to achieve.’

  ‘Her Japan
ese friend is so mousy I just feel vulgar by even walking through the room.’

  In order to control this tsunami of idiocy, the HM must be firm. Some who don’t appreciate the difficulties faced may even call them bossy. Pah! Let them try and live at the top of the hill without bearing their teeth. But it is crucial not to be seen to be harsh. After all, you don’t want the others bitching once you’ve popped off to the toilet:

  ‘I would, I would. But whenever I ask her she feels obliged to give an answer.’

  ‘I’m hearing you, but don’t expect me to listen.’

  ‘I don’t want a suggestion of suggested street names. I want a “yes” or “no” for the one I put forward.’

  ‘A runner looked after them whilst I had an interview. Well I told them. You’re the BBC, find childcare if you want to interview me.’

  ‘Excuse me, would you mind possibly moving to that table? It’s just I like to sit at this one.’

  ‘It saddens me that in proving myself I had to show the meeting where she’d been going wrong all these years.’

  A general must of course earn the trust and faith of their troops. So giving the gang some love, and a sense of inclusion, is absolutely critical:

  ‘That woman will never learn to do exactly what I tell her to.’

  ‘Didn’t Charlotte used to run that book publishing company? I’m sure she’d be delighted to manage the photocopying.’

  ‘It’s not about being wrong. It’s about not being right and allowing that to be valid.’

  ‘A certain type of parent is able to create a momentum behind things like this without having to first ask permission.’

  (to group) ‘I do like having this “us” time... before Janet arrives at half past.’

  ‘What are we, if not right?’

  Much of this book is about the wonder of children, but for the HM and her high standards even these miniature perfections are a pain in the fanny:

  ‘I can feel it when she doesn’t validate my scolding.’

  (to circa eight-year-old in cafe) ‘Can you say in all honesty that your behaviour this morning warrants such a selection?’

  ‘I’m very proud that she’s going to study abroad, but how does that benefit anyone left here? Me?’

  ‘Darling. Darling. Darling, LISTEN. Listen. This is time for us to converse. Not just talk. You remember we talked about the difference?’

  ‘I have to remind my girls that their behaviour reflects badly on me. And to some extent their father.’

  The HM does strive for a life bursting with fitness, not just for herself but also her family. Vibrant red cheeks are a vital ingredient to successful living atop N6:

  Woman in pristine running gear in Southwold. Loudly: ‘I only did a super-quick 6k today. I had a ciabatta in the oven.’ (@Smally1969)

  ‘I don’t want to be prejudiced but I have to look at them all day. Why would I want a chubby manny?’

  ‘He tried to have sex with me in his tux from the opera. I just laughed and left the room.’

  Living is tough. As a former resident myself one of the terrible truths is that commercial rent is too high for independents retailers. So despite its village moniker, the high street is a collection of average coffee shops selling acceptable coffee. But for the exceptional stuff a fearful journey must be taken down the hill to Archway. Beyond those slopes there be dragons…

  ‘If I’m honest I’d never noticed how many trees there were in Archway. Really quite remarkable. You’d think it was here.’

  ‘Oh, God. Oh, God, Oh, God. Euston Road. EUSTON ROAD!’

  ‘To get to the British Museum on public transport is impossible. The logistics involve a change at Euston. Imagine the chaos.’

  ‘I got a migraine after passing those awful people on the South Bank with their skateboards.’

  ‘I’ve not been to that theatre. Is it mostly a South London audience?’

  Hard efforts from the HM are thwarted at every turn by stupidity. Husbands, professionals. All of them under deliver, underachieve and make the whole show a damn shambles:

  ‘My husband puts the washing machine on before work and then I’m bloody distracted in morning yoga and meditation by the noise.’

  ‘Doctors are as bad as teachers.’

  ‘Ha! They make a valiant effort, but it is ultimately just an effort.’

  ‘If they’re cheap, fold the sheets and don’t steal the leftovers you’re onto a winner!’

  ‘... and of course if they’re not speaking good English they can’t understand my little critiques and criticisms.’

  In all the disappointment it’s good to hear the other HM’s opening up about their pain. Open communication is key to good mental health. And without the ear of a good chum, it’s tough to see how they would survive:

  ‘There isn’t time to breathe what with the kids back at school in three weeks and the sofa delivering a week Friday.’

  ‘I’m breaking my bloody head helping their charity and for what in return? I’m being rhetorical, but you see my point?’

  ‘That’s brilliant. Really brilliant; the sort of idea I would come up with if I wasn’t so tired.’

  ‘Yes, we can sit up here. Or go downstairs where it’s nicer... Whatever you prefer. Really. It’s your choice.’

  ‘Breakups are always worse on the wife. Because they care.’

  ‘I’m fed up to the back teeth with commuting to that hole outside Dieppe just to manage a bunch of lazy builders tiling the hallway.’

  ‘I’ve got some telly coming on soon, but really it’s nothing to talk about. BBC One don’t know what to do with it.’

  So dearest HM, keep your head high, keep strong, keep sane. Shape the world around to fit your needs, and yours alone:

  ‘I can co-ordinate fine from France. It’s not too inconvenient for you all to work to my time zone, is it? It’s only an hour.’

  ‘Is it okay if my son plays behind the till for a bit?’

  (to waitress standing by hysterical girl about four years old) ‘She’s crying because you gave the change to me. Do you mind taking it back and giving it to her?’

  ‘The joy is they can turn any public space into a playroom. And so they should.’

  So the imbecilic world, drowning in thudding dim-witted efforts of EVERYONE ELSE clamours its way into the HM lifestyle. Having to roll one’s bubble in the grubbiness of the real world must be an ongoing challenge to HM everywhere, from Perth to Brooklyn. But that said, without the Other against which to compare lives and behaviour, the HM has no definition at all. And that would NEVER do.

  LATTE DADS

  ‘She’s going to Vietnam. But the nice parts. The ones that are like Asia. Still ’Nam, though.’

  Before we reach the end of this book, let’s not forget that HMs are not aren’t restricted gender. Let’s talk about the latte dads.

  The latte dads are wonderful, magical creatures. In a world that is generally dominated by women, they’re a sparkling species all their own. They’re beautifully sensitive and metrosexual, whilst simultaneously seduced by a desire to reclaim their masculinity. They think they’re in army games, when it’s actually just a suburban edition of It’s A Knockout:

  ‘I’m a broken man walking up that hill two or three times EVERY DAY.’ (Highgate Hill — to be fair — is quite a trek up from Archway)

  ‘The barber’s electric razor really struggles with my thick stubble.’

  ‘She’s complaining that my kit stinks. But I’m like, “Hey, it’s just man smell.”’

  ‘The stag weekend’ll be blinding awesome, mate. Before tipping the beers we’ve got a private thing at Museum Montanelli.’

  Chelsea yoga studio — Man: the Saracens game started at three, but I didn’t want to know the result before yoga. (@williamtfox)

  The men do tend to bunch in groups, finding safety in each other’s battles. There’s a lot of gasping at a testosterone battle on Parliament Hill Fields or an impressively swift stroke at the ridiculously shallow Ar
chway leisure pool. And swearing it seems is the key to driving home the vital masculinity of the moment:

  ‘I’m fucking furious with myself for missing the deals at Keela.’

  ‘I gashed my finger putting it up. There was literally blood on the rug. Fucking LITERALLY.’

  ‘It’s a crushing BOLLOCK of an experience parking up at the school.’

  ‘The food options for kids at the Emirates Stadium are a SHITTING mess.’

  Just heard on Tottenham Court Road, ‘Rosé wine’s so fucking overrated, man.’

  ‘I’m going to neck me a FUCK load of caffeine.’

  ‘All you need are some fucks and those cartoons would be like Tarantino movies. It’s awesome.’

  And let’s not forget that these latte dads live just as much under the influence of the HM. Just like their children in school, the latte dad is expected to excel, over-perform, and above all deliver:

  ‘Just because I’m excited doesn’t mean I’m satisfied, or indeed happy about it. I had to point that out to him.’

  ‘Children need clear identities. I never apologise to my husband in front of the children. It would confuse them.’

  ‘Life is life. And I don’t care what my husband says, I won’t let his redundancy get in the way of skiing. Don’t I deserve it?’

  ‘He’s QUITE happy to leave the responsibility of teaching to the school. I’m aghast. Yes, AGHAST.’

  ‘We should employ our husbands as PAs. Then they might realise how busy we are!’

  ‘I’ve nothing to say about his obsession with this Freecycle site. Nothing AT ALL.’

  ‘Refusing an in-laws invite as it states “Harvester or Beefeater” as the venue. Husband thinks I’m being too HM.’ (@EmilyFlump)

  ‘I went on the Northern Line the other day to go into town for lunch. I don’t know what my husband complains about. Commuting seems easy.’