Poverty and ob*sity: blaming working-class people and their multi-pack crisps

At primary school in the late ’80s, I had free school dinners. There’s no way to avoid feeling exposed when you’re one of the few kids clutching a special token who isn’t allowed to join the normal queue. I patiently waited my turn, after most of the other kids had got their meals, hoping I could still get a wedge of pizza and green custard for dessert. This…