DIY
DIY is important to us. You will hear people talking about it much of the time in the office, at the coffee morning, or in the pub.
"An Englishman's Home is his Castle", the saying goes. Europeans prefer to rent a place to live, but we buy ours. Then we make them into our castle, that reflects our character and tastes. DIY is booming: every year we spend £170 each on DIY products, and there are now 1100 DIY stores compared to 175 in 1980.
For us, doing DIY is a substitute for other things. Suppose an office worker gets a surprise bonus. The Belgian would spend it on restaurant meals; we would still eat frozen pizza and chips, but install some new kitchen units. The German would buy some classical music CDs; we would keep playing our pop cassettes, but put up a fine new shelf to store them. The Italian would buy a smart new suit; we would wear the same old clothes, but construct a new wardrobe to keep them in.
Holiday time is similar. The Frenchman spends his weekend with his mistress. We also spend the weekend in the bedroom - but only, alas, decorating it.
DIY - Do It Yourself - describes this process of home improvement. It can mean anything from changing a light bulb to installing a swimming pool, but the key thing is that you do it alone. Friends or family lend a hand, but you can have no professional help.
People like to hate builders. They are down with such despised professions as drug dealers, tabloid journalists, and solicitors. Our image is a man with a local accent and tattoos. His grubby jeans fit so badly round the waist, the white flesh of his bottom is clearly visible ("Builder's Bum", a commonly used sartorial term of abuse). He criticises the workmanship of everything already in the house, treads cement into the carpet, leaves the job half-finished, and lies to excuse his shoddy work.
That's the image. In fact, most builders are honest, efficient, professional. They will do a job faster and better than us, and get the materials cheaper. So why do we insist on DIY? Perhaps because we prefer an enthusiastic amateur to pro; a gallant loser to a hard-hearted winner. We remember brave Scott, who died after failing to reach the South Pole first, but not boring Amundsen, who beat him and returned safely, eating his dogs en route.
Here is a short guide to the main concepts of DIY so you can understand what people are talking about, and know what to say.
Holidays doing DIY
Perhaps, like Scott, we like the idea of hardship. It makes us feel worthy. He could have explored somewhere warm, but chose Antarctica. Around one-fifth of our holiday time is spent at home doing things around the house. We would spend a week's holiday on fitting a new garden gate, standing out in the rain. You can point out jokingly that for the £200 we spent on the gate, we could have gone to Spain. But be sympathetic, as if we had no choice; as if fitting the gate was a duty for Queen and Country.
Sunday morning at the DIY store
If a colleague tells you they took the family to Texas for the weekend, this is not an exciting holiday. Texas is one of the big DIY chains, like B&Q and Homebase. You see their enormous corrugated-iron stores in every edge-of-town retail estate. Every Sunday morning you see the car parks full of family saloons. Each car is crammed with lengths of wood, bales of wallpaper, and boxes of new tools. You see families wandering listlessly round the store for hours. Perhaps they can't decide which shade of cream to paint the bedroom wall. Or perhaps they just can't get back into the car.
The ham-fisted job
DIY widows - wives who have no time with their husband because he is always doing something around the house - like to complain about their partner's incompetence. For example, he tried to fix a leaking tap, but caused a flood, and had to call out the plumber anyway. (Plumbers are notoriously expensive on emergency call-outs.) Again, be sympathetic. To reassure them, you can quote the example of David Page, 48, of Southampton. One day in 1996 he knocked down his house's front porch. That night, as the family slept, the entire house collapsed around them.
Flat-pack furniture
Every adult in Britain has, at some time, tried to put together a flat-pack. (Usually, a student desk.) They are a national joke. It seems such a bargain in the shop, but when you try to make it there are two screws missing, you don't have the right size screwdriver, and the instructions are in Polish. The assembled item has the strength of a cardboard box, unable to hold more than two or three books. (The limit of most students' libraries, so that's no problem.) When you move it, it collapses instantly back to its original flat state. Then you find the two missing screws.
Decorating
Women like to take time to select just the right colours and patterns; men just want to get on with the painting and paper-hanging. You must be able to sympathise with both. Men will complain to you that their women spent a whole afternoon crying over the paint colour catalogues, unable to decide between Mushroom or Taupe. Then, halfway through the painting, she changed her mind. Women will complain to you that their men take no interest in the colour. (Her: "Lemon White, or Saffron, for the playroom, darling?" - Him: "I don't mind, love. Whatever you think." - "But what do YOU think?" - "[Looking at TV] I don't mind, love," etc.)
A philosophical question
If a builder works on his own house, is this DIY, or is it professional? In fact the question is academic. Go to any builder's house and you'll see it's full of unfinished jobs.
Going Native