Basket and Champagne: Competitive picnic items for the middle class

ARE you an obnoxious middle-class jerk who strives to be above your friends? Then take them on a picnic:

Correct sunbeds

While everyone else is lying on blankets on the ground, you’ve brought in old-fashioned deckchairs that have been around for years, allowing you to sing and dance about how wonderfully vintage they are. They’re pretty damn uncomfortable too, but you’re not going to mention that.

An obstacle

Your friends turned up with cling film sandwiches, crisps and a packet of Tesco miniature eggs. This gives you the perfect opportunity to lord it over them by grabbing a giant picnic basket full of goodies from Waitrose that you just spent £60 on. You only use the stupid wicker thing once a year, so you’re going to milk it for all it’s worth.

Refrigerator for wine

“Just because it’s a picnic, we don’t have to be uncivilized,” you say loudly, unpacking the wine cooler and filling it with ice from the cooler. After ten minutes in the sun, you’re left with a tin bucket full of warm water and dead wasps, but at least you have that special moment of feeling smug about the sting of having a bottle of sauvignon blanc popped into it earlier.

Champagne flutes

You greatly misjudged the atmosphere of this picnic and imagined some kind of royal garden party. Instead, your friends invited you to drink a few cans of cheap continental lager at the local park. Take solace in the fact that most passers-by won’t be able to tell that’s the warm Stella you’re sipping on your pretentious flutes.

Real cutlery and plates

Most picnickers use this as an excuse to get pissed off for a day at the park, and the addition of food allows them to feel like they’re not borderline alcoholics. They’ll be a burnt sausage on a napkin while you fiddle with knives, forks and china, and they won’t have a load of stuff to take home and wash afterwards.