Listen up! We need to stop bragging

You know those loudmouths who’d get an A* in showing off and a D in modesty? Author Wendy Holden reveals why she’s had enough of them…

Wendy Holden has had enough of the boasters

‘Whisper it softly, but I’m really rather keen on modesty. I like people who understate things and don’t brag. I consider reticence a virtue, and a very British one at that. Turns out I’m wrong, or at least behind the times, because these days Brits blow their own trumpets as loud as anyone.

I was at a party the other day where a mother was boasting about her two sons each getting nine A*s at GCSE. Now I’m not saying she shouldn’t be proud. But should she really have been shouting it at everyone within earshot, and with both boys present (and smugly unembarrassed)?

And while I know this is the season of exam results and no doubt I’m being oversensitive, I still felt like hurling the birthday cake at the A* mother. She’d got a big fat ‘D’ from me.

All the same, I’m in the minority. What was once confined to those round-robin Christmas ‘bragathons’ has now seeped into every area of social interaction. A new boastfulness is on the march. No one seems remotely inclined to admit even the smallest problems; instead they want to stun you with their success. Someone else I know, who used to have a sense of humour, now bangs on at every opportunity about his celebrity friend. Another likes to brag about his bonus, breaching the once-sacred rule about never discussing dosh. Whatever happened to subtlety? Well, social media did. The internet wiped out nuance once and for all. Facebook, Twitter and Instagram are basically one great collective act of boasting.

Forget merely keeping up with the Joneses, we’re now trying to outstrip them on all fronts and get a bazillion ‘likes’ into the bargain. Good old British reticence has been overwhelmed by a wave of people ‘just checking in’ to posh hotels, larking in the villa pool with the kids, standing before their Smeg fridge with a croissant, or sipping Champagne in a spa.

Don’t get me wrong, I have no issue with self-esteem. What bothers me is how people feel compelled to compete with happy celebrities, and Instagram everything from the neighbour’s dog to a trip to the Post Office.

What’s more, that behaviour is now seeping into real interactions between real people. We’re starting to treat actual people like social media accounts, bamboozling them with our brilliance at every turn and expecting them to be impressed.

But how should we modest types cope with this festival of showing off? Personally, I’ve always played down my achievements (in the secret expectation, obviously, that people recognise my brilliance and inner worth). Yet, in a climate where people take others at face value, with the emphasis on value, a self-deprecator now looks like a loser.

It’s a terrifying prospect. Have none of these people heard of tempting fate? The idea of pride coming before a fall is so ingrained in me that I couldn’t boast about winning some soap in a tombola.

Well, it looks like I might have to start. And you, dear readers, are the lucky audience for my first-ever act of public boasting. Here goes. Did I ever tell you that a friend of mine’s mum once dated Sean Connery? Or that I won a Blue Peter badge for designing a plate for Charles and Diana’s wedding? Oh, and my jam bagged third place in the village fair…

I’m getting the hang of this. Kim Kardashian, be afraid!

• Last of the Summer Moët (Head of Zeus) by Wendy Holden is out now.

‘Whatever happened to subtlety?’