Moving out of London

Can it really be ten years since my self imposed exile. I still feel like a newbie in the Home Counties - royal Berkshire no less (doesn't that sound better than Reading?). A new friend has recently joined the exodus and I thought I should reflect on what I have learnt.

Don't make assumptions that anything you know from London holds true. Distances and roads are calibrated differently outside the M25. Anything over half an hour is too far - unless it is a theme park with an international reputation.

Forget IKEA, to get kudos points you must shop at John Lewis. Talking of Kudos, it is not comical that after christmas over a quarter of the school mums all have identical outfits, it is cool. All right shoulders seem to have been branded by SuperDry and feet are still the property of a certain Mr.Ugg and don't forget other essentials from Hollister and Jules. So choose your clothes carefully, it defines your school gate tribe.

Vintage clothes are not, repeat NOT, cool, they are smelly old clothes. Likewise antique just seems to be a posh word for second hand and so keep quite about them, please. So far people have been too polite to comment on what they think of old cottages like ours.

It has been quite a learning experience! I feel like a social anthropologist. I can confirm that the local tribes are generally benevolent - and those who aren't well, our kids will be at school together for another ten years so I am not about to rock the boat. I am sure if I had investigated earlier I may have been assimilated, but I have held onto my individuality instead.