Maybe it's that Harry Enfield bit with the unbearable yam yams who became 'considerably richer than YOthick.Īs I went out into the working world, I felt very aware of my voice. I think I must have gone down to just one 'yam'. It wasn't deliberate, but my yam yamness began to harden. People either genuinely couldn't understand some of the things I said, or wilfully misunderstood me as they asserted intellectual dominance. Training to be a journalist, I started using my 'telephone voice' more. When I first moved away to university, I was only an hour away from home and yet the sound of people's voices was entirely different, the uni community a melting pot of accents that, after three years, became something more amalgamated and, in hindsight, dull. It's a badge of pride for me, I love Birmingham with all of my heart and it's the place I truly feel at home. For those who haven't spent any time around these parts, or cared to listen to the very clear differences, I've been called a Brummie all along.

That hasn't seemed to matter very much along my journey though. Read more: 7 brilliant Birmingham coffee shops I can't stop thinking about And everyone that's travelled the 20 minutes between those two destinations knows, they're two totally different accents. Despite living most of my adult life in Birmingham, I am Black Country born and raised. I have to admit that perhaps I'm a little underqualified to say this though. Over the years, moving away to university, working away in London, I thought I'd heard all the criticisms there were to be levelled, but 'yaw yaw' was a new one on me. When last week I read that Birmingham tourists in Aberyswyth had been targetted by a hateful note telling them to 'go back to Brummyland', I laughed aloud. The regional lilt, with its playful melody and the colourful dialect that comes hand-in-hand with it, needs no defending. I want to preface this story by being really clear on something: this is not a piece written in defence of a Brummie accent.

Portrait pro 21 crack