Umbrellas have no place in the rain

At the risk of portraying a stereotype, the English are generally seen as being a rather quirky nation, and with a slight disregard for my heritage I have to say that I agree.

The quirks that seem so inherent to our national DNA are the driving force behind our rather self-deprecating, 'all-too-happy-to-laugh-at-ourselves' sense of humour. These national quirks are manifested in the way in which we have become obsessed with certain aspects of life, to the point where, now as an expat, I am seen by others as almost having to abide by these 'rules' in order to 'prove' my nationality. Worryingly for me however the ability to live by these rules comes all too easily.

It has been suggested that one such rule can be linked directly to our national unity and ability to stave off would be intruders over the years. The notion that we can do anything as long as we have a cup of tea, is one that actually has little fundamental truth when in comes to winning battles, however I know very few Englishmen who would refuse a cup when offered. However, the never before discussed dilemma on how such copious quantities of the stuff got consumed over the years, is a mystery to me given the near constant appearance of another such quirk - the stiff upper lip.

Anyway, what's all this got to do with retail? Well, as you will all have noticed, its been raining quite a bit here recently, and given that observing, discussing, and arguing about the weather is another English trait, it has been a source of social and personal interest for me. During these more regular downpours, I have noticed that very few people seem to be carrying umbrellas (another, albeit rather dated English quirk), or really make any attempt to keep themselves dry.

No side street doorways were crowded, no stores had a quick flurry of customers, none of which were interested in the product, but all of whom happily and quietly 'dripped' on the floor. Umbrellas are a must-have household item in England and strange as it may seem, I even brought mine with me when I moved here. The fact that people willingly wouldn't use them struck me as a rather odd decision for people to make, given that during the summer months it's very hard indeed for me to walk outside my office without being poked in the eye by an unwieldy umbrella. The result is that as a casual social observer, I now see people scurrying around in the rain, in sandals and shirts, soaked to the skin waiting for a bus or taxi, but come June there will be a multicoloured canopy of umbrellas out on the street but with no rain in sight. In the Middle East though, rain is seen as an annoying short-term hindrance to getting on with life, whereas the English almost welcome it, as it offers us a gloomy, morose but somehow enjoyable conversation topic.

Being English I feel that I have an unwavering ability and in a strange way, a deep seated desire to wax lyrical about the weather to anyone that cares to listen, as well as some that don't. Additionally I have found that without consciously trying, I can very easily become a caricature of all things English, such as being a tea drinking, slightly arrogant, weather junkie happy to make jokes about the state of the nation. But as I sit here now with a cup of English Breakfast Tea to hand, watching the rain fall, I have been reminded that it is sometimes good for us to see things differently, and maybe on occasion the umbrellas are better off being left at home.

- The writer is Head of Retail, GRMC Advisory Services