HERE'S TO THE BLING AND BORDEAUX BRIGADE

Over the years I have had many a chuckle at tasteless tai tais taking bling-bling to new levels of vulgar excess and laughed uproariously at stories of nouveau riche entrepreneurs mixing Lafite with Coca-Cola.

A recent conversation with one of the country’s top style-makers, the impeccably tasteful Lyndon Neri, design mastermind behind the Opposite House hotel restaurants, caused me to reappraise my disparaging attitude towards such displays of ostentation. Neri, a Chinese who was born in the Philippines and educated in the United States, declines when asked to take on more outré projects; tycoons who want a Roman senator’s villa, or a copy of the White House, are advised to look elsewhere for their architectural extravagances.

But Neri is gentle with his refusals, rather than laughing out loud at preposterous proposals he politely points out that his professional aesthetic is rather different to his would-be client. Says Neri: “People in China are criticized for not having any taste, or culture, but that is the same criticism that was leveled at Americans by traditional Europeans early in the last century.”

He has a valid point, which led me to ruminate on the more egregious examples of contemporary snootiness towards Chinese new-money tastes, in particular those who are trousering the cash, yet tut-tutting as they do so.

There have been muttered complaints of late from people in the European wine trade that incessant Chinese demand is pushing the price of fine Bordeaux wines through the roof, causing a possible price bubble. There is an undercurrent of intense snobbery here. Bordeaux is a product to be bought and sold — just like washing powder or gasoline, pragmatics with a philistine streak might argue — its price determined by the quality of the product, and its rarity.

The producers and merchants are in the business of selling the stuff — for a handsome profit — yet recent murmurings from some parts of the trade suggest they would also like to have a say in determining the kind of people who drink it. Or, more accurately, although they can’t say this outright, prevent newbie drinkers from acquiring fine wines if they are planning to glug them down with fizzy drinks.

It is a similar story in the art world, where old-school auctioneers privately bemoan Chinese acquiring classical works for investment, rather than pure pleasure, yet they happily bring their pre-sale road shows to this part of the world, in the hope of making hefty commissions from the sale of works by Picasso, Renoir and Matisse.

I am, of course, taking something of a devil’s advocate role here. Like many observers I have been occasionally appalled by lack of taste and manners among the nouveau riche . . . the snapping-finger gestures in restaurants, the might-is-right SUV drivers and the tai tais who mistakenly think stylish dressing involves wearing multiple layers of designer-label excess. There is, as Oscar Wilde once astutely observed, a category of person who knows the price of everything and the value of nothing.

A particularly annoying habit, which exists even among well-travelled individuals, is to adopt a baijiu approach to rare Bordeaux wines. The routine always involves the mouthiest individual in the room going from table to table, holding the bottom of the stem with the left hand, cosseting the glass with the right hand, and urging a collective ganbei. I have seen wine-makers close to tears at this crassly disrespectful approach towards a product they have crafted for delicate appreciation, not mindless guzzling. My western-leaning side is sympathetic to the wine-maker, while my China-experience side says: live with it, Monsieur, you are looking at the future.

But for every boorish, gotten-rich-quick type, there are plenty of more quietly appreciative oenophiles who have a genuine love of wine and a desire to learn more about how it is made. Beijing wine dinners these days, once almost exclusively the preserve of expats, are dominated by local Chinese who diligently make tasting notes as they sample vintages from France, Italy, Australia and Spain. In the fashion area, logo-light brands such as Tod’s, Marni and Bottega Veneta are beginning to enjoy a strong following among more discerning consumers.

This means one of my favorite anecdotes, passed on by a horrified restaurateur, may soon seem rather dated. The restaurateur was serving a well-dressed man who ordered a bottle of expensive, Lafite-level, red wine, which was duly uncorked and presented for tasting. The diner nodded his assent, popped the cork back in and gave it a thunderous shake before filling up his glass to the top.

But, looking on the plus side, he did at least have enough good taste not to mix it with Coca-Cola, Sprite or Dr Pepper.

E-mail Mark Graham at markredvers@yahoo.com