This eagerness to be seen with the right gear seems to have pervaded us to the core, with the weekly grocery shop now the subject of a moral and class-led dilemma. When we were poor and had limited choice, where you shopped didn't really matter.

What you bought didn't make much odds either. We weren't too concerned with the fact that real Coke didn't feature all that often in the weekly basket (except at Christmas) and Skip, Yellow Pack or Value 'cola flavoured' drinks did us just fine.

Now, though, just as with clothes and other non-food consumer brands, what we eat and drink and where we buy it seems to play a role in where we stand in the race to the top of the new Irish class system.

A current television advertisement for a German supermarket tries to dispel the myth that ladies who lunch shouldn't be seen dead or alive in a low-cost food retailer. Horrified faces greet the revelation that a woman from the social set has frequented Lidl, until the gathered coterie comes to understand there is nothing wrong with paying less for household goods.

Most towns in Ireland are home to one or another of the German lowcost supermarkets, along with a host of our own home-grown retailers and the ubiquitous Tesco. Larger towns and cities feature the upmarket stores, Marks & Spencer and Superquinn. But does where we shop say something about who we are? Do we care more about having M&S Extremely Chocolatey Orange Biscuits to produce with coffee than saving money by opting for the lowcost German multiple equivalent?

There is an emerging opinion that not only are the Aldis and Lidls of the world doing it cheaper, they are also doing it better. These retailers knock out household goods, including detergents, bin liners and loo roll, at infinitely better value than their traditional, branded counterparts. Fresh flowers, wine, luxury biscuits, cold meats and fruit and vegetables are not only cheaper but also better quality than the premium brands.

But not everyone is convinced. One parent tells me the Abercrombie & Fitch generation are so painfully concerned with their image that it offends them to have anything in the house that was obviously bought from a cheaper retailer. However, on the grounds of adolescent hormonal issues, perhaps we can let them off with their discomfiture with budget shopping.

But the rest of us have a case to answer. For every person who is prepared to save money by doing the weekly shop at the cheaper alternative, there are many for whom the M&S food bag is a badge of honour. Shopping at Superquinn can be a minefield as you negotiate past the hordes (mostly women) who stop to socialise in the aisles and surreptitiously examine what the other has bought.

The social aspect may not be the only reason for forking out for over-the-odds branded goods. Our newfound wealth means we don't necessarily have to scrimp on our food and provisions.

Scrimp or indeed scavenge, as one of my friends described the German supermarket experience. No music, not very many staff and products stacked in the boxes they were delivered in, with this week's special offer of men's value underpants conveniently placed beside the pasta.

The canny higher-end retailers know that we have the money and we want to spend it on feeling good about being able to afford the expensive things in life, alongside getting an instore feeling of luxury that befits our social standing.

So who will win out the day? Will the Abercrombie & Fitch wearers grow up and retain their disdain for non-branded goods? Or perhaps they'll reject their squandering ways and come to realise, unlike most of the current adult population, that there is something satisfying in getting value for money.