My Story: Life Behind The Napkin
Following my solo tour, during which I spoke about this in some detail, I felt I should commit my ‘origin story’ to paper and detail exactly how I discovered a love for etiquette and good manners, and turned my niche interest into a career.
If you attended any of the five performances of 'Solitary Refinement', thank you. I was incredibly nervous to do something a bit new, but am overwhelmed with your kind messages and comments online and in-person.
There won't be any more solo shows for the time being, but there will be some exciting books events and live recordings that I'll tell you about very soon.
Anyway, are you sitting comfortably?
Good, then I'll begin...
While my late grandmother and the etiquette book she gave me one Christmas get much of the credit for my career, I need to acknowledge my own parents, too.
They instilled in me the foundations of respect and self-respect. I was never allowed to leave the table until I had sought permission; we ate together as a family, and thank-you letters were written without (too much) fuss after birthdays and Christmases.
When they were entertaining, I was asked to answer the door to their friends, take any coats and show them through to a sitting room. I say ‘asked’... I may have precociously forced my way to the front door before my parents could get there, but I have chosen to remember this story as them asking me to welcome their friends, and that’s how it will now be!
Ironically, when I started teaching etiquette, my parents would later tell me I was not allowed anywhere near the house when they were hosting, as they worried I would intimidate the guests!
Cutting to the story many know, one Christmas, when I was 12 years old, Granny gave me a book of etiquette - John Morgan’s 1996 offering. She used to stay with us for a week at Christmas and kept asking me whether I’d had a chance to read any of it yet.
Being polite, I felt I should at least read a bit, so I opened a page randomly. It was advice on how to answer the telephone (advice which reads today as terribly outdated in light of the arrival of caller ID). But I kept reading as it was waspishly funny, and I realised I could remember what was being taught - which made a change from most academic subjects at school.
But it posed lots of questions for teenage William. It was all very good to tell me the rule, but I wanted it explained. Quietly, I bought a few more etiquette books from the local bookshop to see if they could answer me. Some did; others just took me further down a protocol rabbit hole. I didn’t make a big deal of reading etiquette books. If anything, I tried to keep it quiet. I’d buy these books and, late at night, take them upstairs to bed, remove them from their brown paper bag, get the torch, pull the bedclothes over my head, and have a finger through Lady Troubridge.
Several years later, one of the teachers at school - Mr Romaines - came up to me on the road and asked me whether I’d like to teach the year 9s (12-13 years olds) table manners the next week instead of having to play rugby. I didn’t need to be asked twice.
Back then, the year 9s had an activity programme called ‘Terriers’ on Tuesday afternoons, which culminated in a black tie gala dinner in the summer term. Mr Romaines, rightly, felt that the dinner was a bit extravagant, and so wanted to add an educational bent to the proceedings. Enter William. The students would be taught table manners and basic hosting skills to prepare them for the dinner at the end of the year. Some of them would be involved in setting the tables, too, on the night.
I did this for my final two years at school, for two separate year groups, and loved it. Finally, I felt I had a calling, although I was still clueless that this was an actual career option.
I’ll continue this auto-biographical exploration another time, but, for now, thank you for subscribing to my newsletter. And thank you, most of all, to my parents, Granny and Mr Romaines: without them, you wouldn’t be reading this.
Yours gratefully,
William