FOR those prone to much hand-wringing about keeping up the Joneses, Tatler has published a guide to the latest high society modern status symbols.

It's an eclectic list – and one would hope tongue-in-cheek – that espouses the aspirational value of everything from dog breeds to transportation modes.

Out are handbag-sized pooches. Tatler says: "The leggier the dog, the higher the status – think whippets and greyhounds."

As for your car? It has to be a Tesla. "An electric vehicle parked up outside a house, slotted into a home-built charging point is the ultimate modern status symbol," crows the society bible.

If you own Japanese succulents ("the rarer, the better"), Grayson Perry ceramics ("should be strategically displayed for all to see when guests drop by") and a larder containing Ottolenghi spices ("Palestinian za'atar, Aleppo chili flakes, dukkah and ground dried lime") then you've made it according to the Tatler benchmark.

Ditto those who write with a fountain pen ("this silent status indicator speaks volumes"), have a well-stocked wine cellar ("the modern stamp of luxury"), a hand-built pizza oven ("wood-fired pizza is the new pick 'n' mix") and produce homemade sloe gin ("the time-poor will not have flagons of sloe gin lining their cupboards").

But what about those of us who have no interest in the trappings of high society? That are happily content to be, well, basic? Here's the alternative modern status symbols list:

Ikea pencil

Far less faff than bottled ink. And you can tuck it snugly behind your ear. A stubby hero.

A big Sports Direct mug

Sure, it's brutish and uncouth. You may never drink from it on account that lifting it while full requires the strength of Geoff Capes in his prime, but make sure it's boldly on show. Or at least close to hand. One day it will come in useful when you need to bludgeon a burglar with it.

Leisurewear set

Don't pretend you haven't craved this egalitarian anonymity.

His and hers North Face jackets

A symphony of rustling Gore-Tex.

Prosecco slogans

Adorning everything from tea towels to bathrobes. Being "on the Prosecco" is not merely about showboating your favourite tipple but a declaration of intent/war cry. I didn't choose the Prosecco life; the Prosecco life chose me.

A Lidl bag for life

Packing your groceries into Lidl bags is a great ruse so that the neighbours don't know you have been shopping at Waitrose.

Poosh off

I'M not one for Kardashian bashing as a rule. Sure, their reality TV show is a big long advert for the various things they want to flog us, interspersed with footage of the family driving about Los Angeles in flashy cars and eating giant salads, but fair play to them.

Well, that was my philosophy until the arrival of Poosh. Not a typo for Posh (or even P*sh), but rather a new lifestyle blog from Kourtney Kardashian, the eldest sister and earth mother of the clan.

Do we really need another celebrity-led lifestyle blog, I hear you cry? Well, quite. Not least when we still have PTSD from Gwyneth Paltrow's brainchild Goop with its slew of vagina-obsessed gimmicks such as jade eggs and steam-cleaning potions.

Unsurprisingly, like most things on Planet Kardashian, Poosh is designed to sell us things we don't really need. Such as vapid coffee table books and $7,000 (£5,300) ceiling lamps.

Mostly Poosh is images of Kourtney Kardashian posing in various stages of undress as she imparts pearls of wisdom such as how to select "next level" hostess gifts when someone invites you to their home. Say, some Louis Vuitton playing cards at £370 ($485) and an amethyst dice set costing £149 ($195).

Or sharing the secrets to looking good naked (wait, didn't Gok Wan do that YONKS ago?). Anyway, all it takes is the best part of £800 worth of scrubs/body lotions and a smattering of £75 candles. Oh, and good posture. Who knew?

Gorillas and burst pipes

POOR old Elon Musk. When you are a self-styled maverick billionaire who has launched a car into space how do you top that? It must be exhausting to constantly find new ways to up the ante.

The Tesla and SpaceX CEO dropped a track on SoundCloud last week called "RIP Harambe", a heavily auto-tuned song about the Cincinnati Zoo gorilla whose death in 2016 sparked a global outpouring of grief and anger (followed by a global outpouring of poor taste memes).

A novelty rap about a dead gorilla is either genius or a desperate cry for help. I'm on the fence.

Musk needs to take a leaf out of Uri Geller's book who in a chapter to be titled Brexit: Go Big Or Go Home, claims to have used his psychic abilities – previously utilised for spoon-bending and to move the ball as Scotland's Gary McAllister took a penalty at Euro 96 – to burst pipes in the House of Commons.

Last month Geller revealed his plans to stop Brexit. The Tel Aviv-born illusionist told Prime Minister Theresa May that he will "not allow" her to lead Britain out of the EU.

In an open letter, Geller said he felt "psychically and very strongly" that "most British people do not want Brexit" and vowed to stop the process telepathically.

He also wrote: "Three years before you became prime minister, I predicted your victory when I showed you Winston Churchill's spoon on my Cadillac, which I asked you to touch." Seems legit …

On Thursday, MPs were forced to suspend their session after water began pouring in through the ceiling. Still, they can't say they weren't warned. Explaining his actions, Geller said: "I can't sack them, but I can soak them."

Which makes about as much sense as a ditty about a dead gorilla. Or is genius. I'm on the fence.