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British Accents Sexiest in the World

I am still chasing a PPI claim (still chasing) and got a letter from them saying my claim was out. As this was a day after I chased it up, I queried on the phone as I think I gave good evidence.
I was on the phone for about an hour with a lass with a NE accent. I’m not an expert, but she wasn’t a Geordie. I’m thinking Middlesbrough, Redcar, that kind of way.
It wasn’t all bad as I spoke to a really nice woman with a lovely accent, charming and friendly. She agreed the claim needed another looking at.
Down side: all on speaker phone with Mrs R huffing and puffing in the background.
 

Themanwho

LE
Book Reviewer
Here in Germanland „Even though my Vocabulary in German is Good?“ My actual grip of Grammer is pretty poor!!“ Therefore I am „Often„ mistaken for sounding like a drunken Dutch person!!
Which I quite like the Idea off! Cause I like “Dutchland“ and Drink“.
Everybody loves the Cloggies. In 2012, I was heading down an escalator in Liverpool St underground, and a host of hot, orange clad Dutch chicks (and their boyfriends) all headed in the opposite direction to some Olympic event, waved and cheered me as I was in full Hi Viz, their cheering doubled when my similarly attired colleague shouted "Up the cloggies!"
 
I’m going to stick up for a good old Staffordshire accent anyday. Before the county was carved up and the West Midlands was formed, this stunning part of England covered the hills and moors of the north (where some villages would grow the city of Stoke on Trent) to the ancient town of Stafford, where the Kings of Mercia had a mint, via Cannock Chase, the City of Lichfield, the ace brewing town of Burton, down to the coalfields of Walsall and the iron workers of Dudley.
Just south is the Warwickshire village of Birmingham, where, many years ago, Shakespeare grew up.
Even now, it is thought that the English closest to Shakespeare’s still exists in the Black Country.
Try picking an “English“ accent out of that lot.
We all have to come from somewhere. But I do like a Black Country accent.
 
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964ST

Old-Salt
I think the best English I have heard that was Sexy!!?!! Was from the documentary over the French Resistance in the Second World War „ˋAllo ˋAllo“
 
I’m going to stick up for a good old Staffordshire accent anyday. Before the county was carved up and the West Midlands was formed, this stunning part of England covered the hills and moors of the north (where some villages would grow the city of Stoke on Trent) to the ancient town of Stafford, where the Kings of Mercia had a mint, via Cannock Chase, the City of Lichfield, the ace brewing town of Burton, down to the coalfields of Walsall and the iron workers of Dudley.
Just south of the Warwickshire village of Birmingham, many years ago, Shakespeare grew up.
Even now, it is thought that the English closest to Shakespeare’s still exists in the Black Country.
Try picking an “English“ accent out of that lot.
We all have to come from somewhere. But I do like a Black Country accent.

Its more than the accent, its the dialect and words, i have been told by the local yokels that the black country speech patterns of today, would be recognizable to Shakespeare, the dialect has not changed in 400 years. If you go into the heart of Gornal, they speak in such a ancient dialect, its almost unrecognizable to outsiders.

If you can, get a copy of the 'Black country bugle' they print some of the articles in the spoken dialect.
 
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Its more than the accent, its the dialect and words, i have been told by the local yokels that the black country speech patterns of today, would be recognizable to Shakespeare, the dialect has not changed in 400 years. If you go into the heart of Gornal, they speak in such a ancient dialect, its almost unrecognizable to outsiders.

If you can, get a copy of the 'Black country journal' they print some of the articles in the spoken dialect.
Got it somewhere. It is said that the accent and dialect changes between Upper and Lower Gornal, a distance of about three miles.
All part of my point. Accents change, shift and are distinguishable in England within a few miles. Even now.
I’ve lived in Hampshire for 20 years, and you can tell the difference between towns and areas, rural and urban, even as an outsider.
Still miss a yim and yam from why Wllenhall cousins, though.
 
In a similar vein I posted this about six years ago:
In the late 80s I worked for an IT company which was looking at setting up call centre based outsourcing deals (or FM then) in deprived parts of the UK (pre-India days) to milk the Government grants.​
They commissioned a firm of occupational psychologists to assess people's reactions to regional accents as part of the planning.​
The results were kept fairly quiet but amounted pretty much to people hated most regional male accents but didn't mind some of the female ones.​
Nobody liked any Scouse accents.​
Brummies of both sexes were regarded as "sounding thick".​
Female Scottish, Geordie, Welsh and West Country accents were the most liked.​
For what it's worth they started out in the North East.​
They didn't look at Home Counties RP as that would have won hands down.


Quite surprising, go anywhere else in the country, and the ladies in the perfume departments, speak some sort of Queen's English........

In the North East, even the most posh ladies, fashioned to hell, rubber bits etc, proudly keep their native accent........
 

WALT

LE
Here in Germanland „Even though my Vocabulary in German is Good?“ My actual grip of Grammer is pretty poor!!“ Therefore I am „Often„ mistaken for sounding like a drunken Dutch person!!
Which I quite like the Idea off! Cause I like “Dutchland“ and Drink“.

I get that too. I can only imagine that they base it on an increased exposure to Cloggies, as they are the most numerous foreign visitors here.
Which I find somewhat confusing as a while back a genuine Cloggie turned up at work and tried talking to me in German. I couldn't understand a bloody word and had to point him in the direction of a colleague.
 
Talking to young ladies with a posh English accent does it for me .
 
Got it somewhere. It is said that the accent and dialect changes between Upper and Lower Gornal, a distance of about three miles.
All part of my point. Accents change, shift and are distinguishable in England within a few miles. Even now.
I’ve lived in Hampshire for 20 years, and you can tell the difference between towns and areas, rural and urban, even as an outsider.
Still miss a yim and yam from why Wllenhall cousins, though.


Correction: Black country Bugle. My old lady corrected me. sorry for the miss information.
 
Got it somewhere. It is said that the accent and dialect changes between Upper and Lower Gornal, a distance of about three miles.
All part of my point. Accents change, shift and are distinguishable in England within a few miles. Even now.
I’ve lived in Hampshire for 20 years, and you can tell the difference between towns and areas, rural and urban, even as an outsider.
Still miss a yim and yam from why Wllenhall cousins, though.


Correction: Black country Bugle. My old lady corrected me. sorry for the miss information. Original post now amended.
 
I’m going to stick up for a good old Staffordshire accent anyday. Before the county was carved up and the West Midlands was formed, this stunning part of England covered the hills and moors of the north (where some villages would grow the city of Stoke on Trent) to the ancient town of Stafford, where the Kings of Mercia had a mint, via Cannock Chase, the City of Lichfield, the ace brewing town of Burton, down to the coalfields of Walsall and the iron workers of Dudley.
Just south is the Warwickshire village of Birmingham, where, many years ago, Shakespeare grew up.
Even now, it is thought that the English closest to Shakespeare’s still exists in the Black Country.
Try picking an “English“ accent out of that lot.
We all have to come from somewhere. But I do like a Black Country accent.

As I recall, before the county of West Midlands was created, about 1974 if memory serves, my postal address in Birmingham had Worcestershire as the county. Sutton Coldfield at the north of the city was Warwickshire.
As an aside, there is a pub north of Sutton Coldfield cslled Bassetts Pole where Tuesday night was bike night. The area was at the junction of West Midlands, Staffordshire and Warwickshire. Much two wheeled hooligan antics could be performed as the 3 different Police Forces would always argue about who was paying for policing the event. Result being , negligible blue serge in evidence.
 

Wigan Pier

Clanker
I'm a well traveled listener of Chorley FM with an accent similar to the current Speaker of the House, only deeper in tone and less intelligible to southerners and foreigners. My first conversations in the Middle East began with the usual where in England are you from and a look of puzzlement when I said Chorley, I soon learned to say Manchester however and many taxi drivers I met instantly became my best mate. One, from Egypt, even stopped the cab to scream abuse at a group of Pakistanis because I'm English and he thought I might approve.

"MANCHESTER UNITED!!!" Followed by gibberish I didn't understand because I hate football and can't speak a word of Arabic. I once met a Yemeni taxi driver whose only word in English I could decipher was Man U.
 

Wooden Wonder

War Hero
Hmm. Being a RAF-brat as a child we moved all over the country with The Old Man’s postings and I never picked up a regional accent. I have no accent; just completely neutral English, not posh, middle or lower class. I am educated and well-spoken. In my late 20s through to mid 40s I travelled the world a lot as an IT consultant, including, of course, the USA. The Americans I worked with seemed enthralled with my ‘accent’. This just baffled me.

Personally, I find listening to a posh French woman or Italian woman extremely fascinating.

We have a friend, a couple of years older than us, who is so posh she makes Joanna Lumley sound like a Grimsby fish wife - I have never heard anything so sexy.
 

Joker62

ADC
Book Reviewer
My first visit to the states - we went alongside New York in '96, after taking part in Ex Purple Star. It was also "fleet week". We went ashore on a 'rig run' wearing white tropics. Probably the only experience I'll ever have giving some inklink of what it feels like to be a mega famous rock star or something.
People were literally grabbing hold of us and asking for pictures. Several lads got whisked away by fathers wanting to take a brit sailor back for their daughter to meet. I digress...
We didn't have to put our hands in our pockets for anything. Straight to the front of any queue and people grappling for out attention. A group of us ended up in a nightclub which I think was called Webster Hall.
I trapped off with a yank bird but I was mullered. Last thing I can remember is feeling slightly confused as I was carried out into a taxi.
Morning after, back onboard, I waas told I had puked all over the yank bird I'd trapped, and that she was super-model material...yeah yeah..cheers etc etc. Several weeks later, when people's photos had been developed- I discovered that my oppos were not bullshitting- the yank bird I'd trapped was indeed stunning- way above my league and- I'd thrown up all over her.

Gutted I never nailed her first!
And people blame the chavs that inhabit Benidorm or any of the Costas for Britain's bad reputation abroad!
 
And people blame the chavs that inhabit Benidorm or any of the Costas for Britain's bad reputation abroad!
As someone who’s spent a sizeable chunk of their working life shipping them to and fro, I can only off this:

There's a reason Brits Abroad have that reputation in those parts.

Reus, on the Costa Dorada makes Benidorm look like Mustique. As you fly down final approach there’s an oil refinery to the right and a large container port to the left. The Friday night Liverpool-Reus run which left Liverpool at something like 2300 was like the retreat from Moscow.

To be fair, the approach into Venice isn’t much better, the huge port and petro chemical complex at Mestre to the left, Venice to your right. The punters all have middle England accents, specialise in the “do you know who I am?” stuff and are equally well thought of by the local populace.
 
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Morning after, back onboard, I waas told I had puked all over the yank bird I'd trapped, and that she was super-model material...yeah yeah..cheers etc etc. Several weeks later, when people's photos had been developed- I discovered that my oppos were not bullshitting- the yank bird I'd trapped was indeed stunning- way above my league and- I'd thrown up all over her.

Gutted I never nailed her first!

The romantic spirit of Barbara Cartland is strong in this one.
 
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