In PR terms, it’s a such a well-worn trajectory, it has its own name. ‘Doing a Burberry’ is the term for when something once exclusive and favoured by those in-the-know is appropriated by the hoi polloi and its standing slips inexorably downwards. The Ivy — now a chain of naff provincial cafés — is a notable victim. Marbella, now ‘Marbs’ thanks to the cast of TOWIE is another. So is the name Samantha, once terribly Sloaney, now associated only with a former page 3 girl and some really filthy double entendres on I’m Sorry I Haven’t a Clue on Radio 4.  

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And now Farrow & Ball (F&B), purveyor of sludge-coloured paints to the upper-middle classes since 1946, is going the same way. For decades, couples called Jemima and Hugo slapped colours with daft names like ‘Dead Salmon’ or ‘Clunch’ on the walls of chilly old rectories — or, rather, got their builders to do it. Decorators, of course, grumbled like mad because the water-based paints are a pain to work with, unlike good old vinyl emulsion, which is so beastly for the environment.  

It was the ultimate good-taste flex with a reassuringly expensive price tag. (A five-litre tin of F&B emulsion costs around £100, compared with £38 for the same amount of Dulux down B&Q — though, granted, you don’t get a choice of 97 shades........

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