Britons’ attitudes to supermarkets are perhaps as complex and confusing as our antiquated class system. Where you choose to do your weekly shop says as much about you as the car you drive, clothes you wear and whether you say “loo” or “toilet”. I didn’t come up with these rules, you understand – but I’ve always been aware they were there.
Growing up, I implicitly knew, without anyone ever having to explain it to me, that my mum’s grocery affiliations – Sainsbury’s for the big shop, Waitrose for “bits” – put us solidly in the “middle-class” bracket. Our loyalty to the orange-branded purveyor was unwavering and beyond question. Even when I got a teenage gig as a checkout girl at the sprawling Tesco off the dual carriageway, with an enticing discount to match, there was never any suggestion that we might switch allegiance.
