Dating a working class Englishman

Behold!  One of the most popular search terms that people are using to find us at the moment – ‘Dating a working class Englishman’.  This must mean two things:

  1. There are a lot of working class English men out there getting some action
  2. There are a lot of confused women out there dating them and Googling them

I’m sorry to say that I’ve never dated a working class Englishman.  In fact, I tried to date mostly gay men until I was 17, so I’m probably the opposite of an expert.

HOWEVER!  I bet we have some readers that can provide some hints and tips that can come in handy when you’re dating your lovely working class Brit.

Consider this an invitation.  I’d love to hear about any of the following from all you lovely readers:

  • What are quirky things that your working class Englishman does?
  • What are his friends like?  How do they get along?
  • What does he do for fun?
  • How is he in the bedroom? (ooOOOOOOooooo!)
  • Is he a good kisser?
  • How did you meet your working class Englishman?
  • What was the first thing you thought when you met him?
  • What made you decided that he was the guy for you?

I can honestly say – I’m freaking EXCITED to hear what you have to say.  And I can promise that you’re not alone because people are searching for this information.  You’ll be donating your knowledge to a good cause. :)

You’re still searching: British Men In Bed

Hi there Readers,

There’s something us three gals have been meaning to talk you about. We’re loving our chats. You make us laugh, you make us think, and you ask the best questions! But there is a bit of an elephant in the room isn’t there?

I mean, there is something you still want to know. Don’t be shy. We know you’ve been searching for it, ’cause we see it in our Google analytic stats:

British men in bed.

There. I said it.

In fact, we did actually mention this once before.  But we’re not really experts in the topic. You know, monogamy and all…

So we kinda need your help here. Otherwise we may have to resort to posting links to ridiculous Daily Mail surveys ranking men in bed by nationality. Desperate indeed.

So…. who wants to go first?

Oh, and thanks in advance for keeping it classy when it comes to comments. You’re the best.

PS. I’m still the same PacificYorkshireBird, I just fancied a new picture. Hope you don’t mind.

One European man (now in hiding) says that American women are “unbelievably EASY”

yahooavatar15Well, we all know by now that our American accent has the ability to charm many a British man. One British bloke in a cringe- central pickup line hooted “Why, your voice is  all the glamour of  Hollywood coming off of some sweet lil lips, love!”.  Yes, our sexy accent aside, American women are also known to be  independent. Loud. Outspoken. Brash. Nosy. Noisy. In-your-face. But come on… now the claim has been made that we’re “EASY” as well!? Check out this hilarious tongue in cheek article.

Now, then! I would like to take the opportunity to counterattack this claim  as your (unappointed)  ‘She’s Not from Yorkshire’ American representative and offer another viewpoint: I wonder if European men would know that maybe, just maybe—wait, a lot maybe, we are using them just as much as they are using us? I mean come on, we want to have the  “full European experience”, you know?

I, fellow readers will confess that I only dated many a French, German, Macedonian, Norwegian just to experience the thrill of being with a man from oh lala  “Europe”. Looking back I think that behaviour was partly inspired by  the infamous character ‘Isadora Wing’.  Did I ever expect that these little affairs would last when I got back to my American life? Nah, of course not!

I would like to say to European men that we relish the great Italian coffee and your exquisite wine from a carafe.  That quaint Moroccan cafe you showed us for dinner ran by your cousin Leemo. The  stroll by the city river while you whisper unintelligible things in French/Italian/Greek/German that you claim is  your favourite Goethe poem. But, we know its all part of your game. And we wouldn’t expect anything less! I mean, come on, what a great adventure to write in our diaries and tell our friends back home!

And just for the record, at the end of the affair (when the special crepe recipe you showed us was just not enough anymore) us American gals are not begging our European flings to put in a good word for us at the immigration offices!  Note to Mr. European Vespalovah, I can NOT get you a greencard so you can come live with your cousin in NYC for goodness sake…


How being a Shamerican in Britain makes you an accidental sexbomb ? Click here

Being an American in Britain makes you accidentally sexy

yankeebeanDon’t deny it – whatever you’re accent weakness is, you know it’s there (you minx, you)

For many many many (freakin’ MANY) Americans, their weakness is the English accent.  And rightly so, might I add – English people can say almost ANYTHING and it sounds good.  ‘Bastard’ and ‘asshole’ are prime examples (pardon my not-french).  Not the friendliest or most pleasant of words, but said in a posh English accent it’s instant class… ok, maybe not class – but you get what I mean…

Bizarrely, this attraction can be the same in reverse – I’ve met countless English people that seem to think the American accent is the equivalent of a chocolate covered strawberry.

Now I’m about as ‘taken’ as they come – I’m hitched to an awesome Brit who’s the best ever.  As  a result, I think I tend to radiate ‘unavailable’ like it’s stamped, glowing across my forehead.  Everyone that knows me knows that I’m uber-taken, and that I’m crazy about Mr. Nice Guy.  I wonder if that’s why people feel comfortable enough to tell me when they think my accent is cute… although I always feel weird when it happens.  (To be fair, I think everyone involved does – it usually temporarily kills the conversation and causes some shuffling)

Here’s a list of some of the words that have caused said-shuffling:

  • Capo (American = KAY-poh / English = CAH-poh)
  • Tofurkey
  • Compost (American = KAAHM-post / English = COHM-pohst)
  • Capillary (American = CAA-pill-air-ee / English = cuh-PILL-ery
  • Route (American = RAOWt / English = ROOt
  • Tune (American = TOOn / English = CHEWn
  • Semi (American = SEH-my / English = SEH-mee)
  • Strawberry (American = STRAHW-beh-ree / English = STROO-bree)

I’m always surprised when someone thinks the American accent is particularly attractive.  I don’ think it’s bad or anything – it just seems so ordinary to me (for obvious reasons).

So, if you’re American and you want to be sexier, try moving to England.  All you have to do is chat and your accent will take care of the rest :)

Getting recommended by a sex advice columnist (or anyone for that matter!) always makes our day

yahooavatar15pacific birdyankeebeanWhen we know that our blog makes you laugh, helps you out–well, frankly that is the best thing we can see as the outcome for our many ramblings!  Since we have been on about lingerie lately (see post below), this feeling of joy was the equivalent as going to TkMaxx and seeing La Perla 75% off in our size (yes it can happen). Our readers can really make our day!! So, naturally we were mega-delighted last week when Dan Savage, a nationally syndicated sex advice columnist in Seattle, posted about ‘She’s Not From Yorkshire’ on his “Love Letter of the Day“. To Dan and our lovely and kind reader “J” who recommended us, thank you!

They wrote:

“I just listened to Episode 148 of the “Savage Love” podcast in which a young woman calls in to ask about a man she met in England. I thought that she might find it helpful to know that she’s not alone; there are many American women who’ve fallen in love with, married, and made things work with a British guy. In fact, there’s a blog She’s Not From Yorkshire co-written by three American women involved with British men. One has married a Brit and is currently living in London, another has been living near York with her fiance but they have just moved back to America to get married and they plan to live there, and the third is currently living near York and is seeing a series of British guys.

I thought this might be of use to her in that the blog has apparently become an unofficial source of information and advice on international romance, and the wonderful young ladies have much to say on several topics, including how to deal with long-distance romance, deciding where to live, and many other subjects.

Anyway. I love your show, and I just thought that this bit of info might be useful to a young woman who’s obviously rather tormented.


Not that we’re trying to blow our own horn. Well, we are a little–but only because we are  American and are born comfortable in doing so. Oh, and we’re also very proud and very grateful for our devoted readers that always keep us inspired. Now go listen to Dan’s cheeky advice for this lovelorn lady! And of course, what do you think–was his advice spot on?

With love,

Peaceful, Yankeebean and Pacificbird xxx

British Men– murderers, self-depricating, and not loved by British Women?

yahooavatar15Oh, we have tons of posts about British Men. When the mood strikes, we write about our experiences because our British Men are a big part of our lives. We’re dating them, sleeping with them, married to them, bickering with them, getting visas for them…But enough about what we think! What do other ladies think about British Men?

Click here for a blogger who thinks that “British men can be scary” because of  manky murder cases she read about in Britain (well if you only read the murder stories you would be scared, right?). This lady wrote this in jest… I think.  Here is an excerpt:

“British men have been in the news a lot lately, but not for their admirable qualities. In fact, these men are rather jealous and insensitive and, oh, have a habit of murdering their partners. EXHIBIT #1: Colin Scully, a jealous husband, admitted to police that he strangled his wife Tracey to death after she called out “Paul” while they were having sex…”

Then there is Alexandra Hope, a British feminist. She gives us her take on what British women think of their male counterparts– and its not good. She writes that in comparison to her peers, even Americans ‘in their lack of sophistication’ are at least bunny boilers. I am not sure if she wishes British women were bunny boilers too? Does this make her sad? This specific bunny boiler comment makes me feel very patriotic, of course. “Well God Bless America” is what I say to you, my little feminista honey!. Anyway, here is an excerpt of her post:

British men are the way they are is because we, British women, do not love them. Yes, you heard me right – We, British women, do not love Men. In fact, I am not entirely convinced that we ever did. If we cast an idle glance in the mirror of world history and relevant literature, a rather uncomfortably impassionate image stares back. And that image is enough to give the rest of the world a right to label British women as largely frigid.…”

Oh and then there is this Telegraph article that gives the run-down of British men from ladies from all kinds of international ethnic backgrounds. These single ladies from abroad give their viewpoints while they try to get English men to “put a ring on it”. (Pick your favorite opinion!)

“Part of the problem is that the goal of British courtship is not simply to find a life partner. It is also about doing everything possible to avoid what we hate most – making fools of ourselves. No wonder, then, that extravagant compliments, overt flirtation and official ‘dates’ – all considered normal virtually everywhere else – fail to thrive in the land of the stiff upper lip. Terrified of humiliating rejection, British men, it seems, will do almost anything to avoid showing their true feelings until they are certain they will be reciprocated.”

Last there is a Ellie Levison of the Independent who writes that if you really want to get a British man to fancy you then you better be prepared to be a self-annihilator. Yes, wipe out that confident little American charm from your walk, darling! Well, I say yawn to that approach! Oh wait I mean, I mustn’t yawn I am so STUPID to yawn, I can’t believe I am such a fool to yawn! How could a guy want to date me when I want to yawn? (Ridiculous!)

“The study, by the anthropologist Gil Greengross, looked at the seduction techniques of British people, and found that taking the mickey out of yourself makes you more desirable. This is a peculiarly British form of humour, allowing you to both show off your achievements and show a sense of modesty and, found the study, rarely works when used on foreigners, who tend to take what we say at face value.”

And you, lovely reader, what do think? Do you agree with any of these stories based on your experiences?

This American in Britain Revels in Free NHS Contraception

yahooavatar15American women are always talking about it when I go back home, that is the frustrations of their pricey insurance policies. “Why won’t my  insurance company pay for my birth control?” I’ve heard many American women ask. “Surely it is much cheaper then me getting pregnant and then covering my hospital bills!?” The thing is, when I used to live in America, I’ve always had that thought too about the American insurance system and contraception…

But here in Britain people still complain about health care too.The NHS gets a lot of slack from the British public– I am sure you’ve heard stories about people not getting the cancer treatment they need, the surgery lists of 678 people in queue for transplants. One British neurosurgeon once told me : “There are more neurologists in Manhattan ALONE then there are in ALL of Britain, and you want me to give you an MRI because you have a family history of tumors?” Need less to say I waited 9 months, and no MRI. It was not an option. Period. If you have a major issue the NHS might not be the best, which is why a lot of people “go private”.

BUT how about it you just need some little things, like say, your monthly birth control pills? How about if you need the morning after pill because let’s face it, mistakes happen?  That is where the NHS. has it right, because they are readily available from a doctor’s office, free,  and it makes total sense! Hand out birth control to women and they might have to shell out less in the future–

So, every time I walk away from my GP’s office with the standard 3 months supply of contraception, I feel liberated, and taken care of by my high tax contributions. And that is one of the reasons I like living in Britian. NO not because of the high tax contributions, silly, its the free pills!

How to fall in love with an English man – part 2

avt_kapyork_large115LWBB!  Before I found myself in a loving and committed relationship with Mr. Charismatic I had a tradition of giving nicknames to the men in my romantic life.  Immediatly preceding Mr. Charismatic were The Logger, The Kicker, Coincidence Design Boy, oh and Marathon John.  :)   LWBB (Lost Wallet Brit Boy, now known as Mr. Charismatic) was named the night I drove him and 2 friends home from the expensive nightclub where I had earlier refused to go.   For those of you who are worried about the extremely bad choice I made to take 3 drunk strangers home in my car, take comfort that I had a lovely lady friend following me in her car.

So, any respectable American night out ends in a trip to Taco Bell and this night was no different.  Several minutes later I was having a goodbyeIloveyoualreadypleaselovemebackfortherestofmylife snog and then made my way home.  Just hours later I was awake again heading to work (by the way this was 1.5 hours away in the car and is why I had intended to have an early night, but was out the window when the pivotal moment happened).  I was already running late when I discovered that not one, but two wallets were left in the back seat of my car!  Those sneaky boys, I thought!  Secretly though I was so happy because I had a reason to see the gorgeous man again.  So, with email address memorized already I arrived at work, announced to my coworker that I’d fallen in love the night before, and sent the email to let him know that I was working out of town but would return that evening.  That email was the first of many accusations of the planted wallets in order to meet up again.  He denies it still today.  “It wasn’t even my wallet.  Why would my friends do that with their valuables?”  “Umm, maybe to meet my friends?”

Anyways, we met up that night (after he explained that by “half eight” he meant eight-thirty) to return the wallets but also to get to know each other a little better.  He gave me a t-shirt from the company that he was working for and I wore flipflops (he’d made a drunken confession the night before that he thinks toes are cute).  I knew that night that he was special.  Somewhere in storage in America is a picture of the two of us that evening.  I must dig it out someday.

A few weeks later he was back in the area (they traveled around to different soccer camps all summer) and we had one more lovely evening with friends and a few more sparks between us, and a brief few minutes where he met my mom… and then he got on a plane back to England.    He sent emails full of terms of endearment and romantic ideas and feelings of missing me.  No American man had ever been so open and emotional before.  It was wonderful but miserable all at the same time!  Would he ever come back?  Was he seeing anyone else?  Should I be seeing someone else?  Was I silly to entertain the idea that we could be together???

How to fall in love with an English man – part 1

avt_kapyork_large115It is my great pleasure to introduce you to Mr. Charismatic!  Like Yankeebean, I had one of those pivotal moments…  I’m not really one for destiny or “one true love” but I do believe in fireworks and boy did they make an impression the night I met Mr. Charismatic. 

I had been at a Mexican restaurant in my hometown with a load of my sorority sisters.  One of them was leaving for a year in Spain and she announced we’d head to the nearest nightclub.  But I had to work the next day so I said I’d have to go home because I didn’t want to pay the expensive cover charge just to stay a few minutes.  So… she changed her mind and said we’d go to the quieter bar across the street.  I am horrified now that I was so selfish that night, and I treat my lady friends a lot better these days but I can’t really regret it because it started the chain of events that landed me in Yorkshire.

So we entered the cheaper, quieter bar and boom!  He was standing in my direct line of sight wearing a white polo with the collar turned up (which was a curiosity as American men hadn’t started this trend yet) and as he caught my eye he turned to the side and took a drink of his lager.  This image is carved in my memory as one of the major pivotal moments of my life.

Mr. Charismatic tried his charm on each and every one of my friends before he finally spoke to me.  It was obvious I wanted him to talk to me by the glances I was giving but trying so hard NOT to be obvious,  and he took his sweet time.  Then he swooped in putting his arm around me and this was his opener: “I’m going to guess what you are studying.”  He never did get it right, but he spent a long time guessing and by the time the entire group of us ladies (with group of British men in tow) left for the expensive night club (and I totally paid that cover charge that I refused so selfishly just hours earlier) we were holding hands and sneaking a little snog.  Later he admitted one of the main reasons he liked me: I didn’t gush about his accent.  I also later found out he has a thing for blondies.

When the night was coming to an end, I was devastated when he asked for my email address.  Didn’t he want my phone number???  He explaned that he was visiting America as a soccer coach, that he stayed with a different American family every week and that he didn’t like to use their phones to make personal calls.   Upon asking where he was staying this week I found out he was just a mile away from where I lived.  So, being sober, I offered him a ride home.  This is when the LWBB (Lost Wallet Brit Boy) incident happened.  Stay tuned…

A chavtastic-fantastic-Yorkshire affair

yahooavatar15You frequently hear about their tracksuits, ASBOS, council estate flats, knife problems, and “what a bad thing they are to society”. Chavs have such a poor reputation in Britain!

Well, yes, I knew he had some “chav” qualities, when he first sat his cheeky handsome-self on the Manchester-Leeds train.

But I didn’t care.

His name was Dono and he had the YOOOHHkshaw drawl.

After we first slept together he said with concern “ My Dahhhling American princess, what time to do you want me to set the Alaaam for the Mooohhhning? Oh, how my heart melted!  It was that Yorkshire charm, yes, you know the one!

He wore his white Fred Perry shirt proudly and his mom gladly ironed his Ted Baker jeans for our dates.

Oh, no Leeds University education for him, he was a self made man– didn’t need any of that “classy stuff”. Seacroft Council estate was his conquered kingdom of his business world.

His iridescent purple Peugeot 306 purple was so bling bling, that when he drove he was death on wheels–with Galaxy FM blaring from his sub woofers.

Maybe some BBC Radio 1, perhaps, I would ask? Too posh, he would say.

My stuffy orchestral colleagues would attempt to warn me. Oh darling, we were so worried about you last night after that.. that… that… um …guy .. he drove away so recklessly… did you make it home okay?

(Dono never went to any of my classical harp gigs, not his scene, he would say).

Dono never ate vegetables except the fried variety, and he gave me gifts he ordered especially for me off the QVC.

I introduced him to Yorkshire vegan restaurants and earl grey tea. He loved both.

Dono and I lasted two weeks. He was my one-and-only-chavtastic-fantastic-experience.

Now, who says that chavs have to be so bad for England? I had a great time—!