The beauty of the word chav is its all-embracing yet self-excluding character. The Sun, a tit-fest joke-news extravaganza, read by morons, is obsessed with chavs, despite the fact that most of its readers come from exactly that constituency. It talks in worried tones about the chav infestation of Britain's cities, despite the fact that if these people read anything, it's The Sun.
Prince William gets his Chav on with his prep school buddies, minutes after buggering each other
More naturally, the 0.1% of aristocrats and 10% of middle class people are of course horrified by the unwashed masses. Hence a recent "controversial" video posted on Youtube, made by the students at a super-elite Scottish boarding school called "Chav Hunt", where a fox hunt is staged with the victims as chavs (the most amusing thing being the fact that despite the fact the "victims" have bought gold chains and Adidas sportswear, their ruddy, inbred faces make it pretty obvious they're not the real deal). Likewise Prince William himself once went to a "Chav party" with his hereditary peer mates. He dressed in a baggy white T-shirt and white rudeboy trousers, but apparently had problems with pulling off the accent.
The Telegraph, the paper of choice for inbred aristocrats and gypsy-shooting farmers, ran an editorial comment last week slamming "hoodies" (the hoodie being a hooded top the favored garment of the British urban yoof). "To be frank, I don't care how difficult the life of the average hoodie has been, or how much any of these callous youths have suffered at the unseen hands of an absent parent, or general, festering resentment that stems from their troubled home situations," said the paper, in its most empathetic voice. The problem, according to The Telegraph, was "the unsocialised behaviour of feral teens; those hopeless louts who hang around lampposts feeling aggrieved, waiting to fill their bodies with cider and cheap drugs, then create the first kind of mindless havoc they can think of."
The Daily Mail's even worse it's the paper for moneyed chavs who are desperate to seem classy, those odious people who live in brand new houses with mock Tudor slats and deep-pile carpets, have an unfeasibly well-tended garden and a set of Princess Diana commemorative plates. Of course, these people, all too aware of their chav roots, are the most virulently anti-chav, and get very upset about the "disgrace" of modern Britain. (The only things that get them more angry than chavs are queers and blacks).
The thing is though, if you spend a few minutes with the aristocratic types who made the Chav Hunt video, or are unfortunate enough to be invited to the home of a Daily Mail reader, you'll soon realise that these people are far more horrific than any genuine chav could be. They're so odious, in fact, that you'll immediately go down to the local tattoo parlor, have "England" tattooed on your forearm, head to the nearest Wetherspoons pub, have 15 pints, meet a fat slut with hoop earrings the diameter of the moon, and settle down to have two kids (Gavin and Chardonnay) and a life of happy chavdom.
Or, you could just move to Russia.