For those of us who grew up in the South but have moved elsewhere, we love our roots and all they have provided. There's a lot that I've come to appreciate about the South. But let's be honest, most of us don't want to go back to "full Southern." We're happy with just a pinch here and there to add flavor to the life we live now. If you are not a Southerner, perhaps you'll come to better appreciate the little gifts the American South has given and continues to give our culture. Photos are not mine unless specified. Email me at justapinchofsouth @ gmail dot com. I tweet at @apinchofsouth and my other tumblr is called "everythingthatdoesntfitelsewhere" which is just what it sounds like.
Nov4
I have a huge literary/comedy crush on Jane Borden.
And with all my serious talk about manners and ma’am-ing today, she nails the whole thing with tongue in cheek.
Yes, we Southerners can take ourselves (and our manners) far too seriously. Thanks for that reminder, Jane. (As if I actually knew Jane to say that.) (Well, truth is, I went to camp with her sister, and… nevermind)
To my earlier post.
If someone sirs or ma’ams you - accept it gracefully. That’s good manners, too.
(Source: spencerlewis)
People don’t say “Ma’am” in New York City. I know you know this.
What you might not realize is what they say instead. If you are (for example) a woman at a store, the person behind the counter will call you “Miss.” As in, “I’m sorry Miss. We don’t have sesame seed bagels today.” It’s like everyone has become a young girl.
Heaven forbid you call any woman, under any circumstances “Ma’am.” This can only mean that you think the person is old, and the object of your ma’am-ing will state in no uncertain terms that this is absolutely rude and unacceptable. It does not denote or connote any form of respect.
Living most of my 20’s outside of Washington, DC, while technically in the South, I was in a fairly Yankee world. Such that I recall the very first time someone other than a store clerk called me “Ma’am.”
Her name was Davis. She was 12 years old. We were staying in the same house during the summer overlapping just one night. She came in, we were introduced. I asked her a question and she replied “Yes, ma’am.”I asked her another. She did it again.
I was taken aback that I was taken aback by this. My first inclination was to explain that I was just 26 myself and the ma’am-ing wasn’t necessary. I wasn’t old enough. I wasn’t her teacher/coach/counselor. But I stopped myself. This was clearly something her mother taught her and was habit. It was respectful and appropriate. She wasn’t commenting on my age, or trying to offend me.
Who had I become? To be nearly offended by a ma’am??
It was only a few short years before, my junior year of high school, that I myself visited New York City for the very first time. I stayed with a camp friend and presented her mother with “house gifts” as a Southern lady does when staying as a guest. It included grits. She was non-plussed. I, too, called her ma’am. She told me not to do that, but kept doing it because asking me not to made me nervous. And when I’m nervous I slip into ma’ams and sirs.
And here, a few, short years later I was uncomfortable with a kindly meant “ma’am” addressed to me. For shame.
May I never question good manners. Should I have children someday, they shall all ma’am and sir, no matter where they live.
(via debutantesanddarlings)
Nov2
Interesting article about an incident in Atlanta where two men refused to give up their seats for two women. Of course it wasn’t quite as simple as that. The men were black, the women white.
But it does indicate something that those of us from the South can’t deny. The erosion of Southern manners.
Look, when I’m in New York City I don’t expect anyone to say “excuse me” if they bump into me and am always pleasantly surprised if someone holds the door open for me coming behind them. But I have higher standards when I return home. Please stand when I come to the table; hold open the elevator door; and by all means, give up your damn seat.
Jul28
If the silver is a little nicked, a little scratched, imperfect, then every Southern woman knows that you explain it by saying “we hid these from the Yankees.”
Even if really you just dropped it down the garbage disposal.
(via thatkindofwoman)
Jul20
The odd thing I’ve noticed is that while of course the South is more and more indistinguishable from the rest of the country (Atlanta, for example, has become one of the three or four megalopolises of the U.S.), the fact is that as Faulkner said fifty years ago, as soon as you cross the Mason-Dixon line, you still know it. This, after fifty years of listening to the same radio and watching millions of hours of Barnaby Jones. I don’t know whether it’s the heat or a certain lingering civility but people will slow down on interstates to let you get in traffic. Strangers speak in post offices, hold doors for each other without being thought queer or running a con game or making a sexual advance. I could have killed the last cab driver I had in New York. Ask Eudora Welty, she was in the same cab.
Jul18
Manners are a sensitive awareness of the feelings of others. If you have that awareness, you have good manners, no matter what fork you use.
Jul15
We had an exception in our house to the rule “no elbows on the table.”
The exception was fried chicken.
Somehow, I don’t think that is in Kate Spade’s book.
(via sarasmiles)
Jul14
Most of these “secrets” make me cringe, but I like this one.
(But I can think of an exception or two to this rule here in NYC, at least, if you want survive long term)
(Source: southernbellesecrets)
Jul12
My mother made me write thank you notes after Christmas and birthdays. It was torture.
Southern ladies have a thing about polishing silver. We’d be hard pressed to tell you how many of our friends and their mothers have greeted the sad news of a death in the family by going straight to the silver chest and starting to polish everything inside. Maybe it has something to do with an atavistic memory of defending our silver from the Yankees, but it does ensure that the silver will be sparkling for the reception, which always follows the funeral.
