Otherwise, my mother's inklings of gentility surfaced only occasionally. I remember her taking me to one side once during one of our many vacations in Eastbourne (56 miles, but a trifle posher than Great Yarmouth) and inexplicably telling me not to use the slang word "tanner" for the pre-decimalization sixpence piece.
And I was once astonished when she was quite vehemently negative about a band I liked, after watching their performance on a television pop-music show. I had to probe to find out what was offending her. It wasn't the song. Eventually, it turned out to be that one of the performers was wearing a trilby hat as part of his stage outfit.
"Well, what's wrong with that?" I asked.
"I think it's rude for a man to keep his hat on indoors," she replied.