ALAN Coren once said that the only thing Sainsbury's was good for was keeping the riff-raff out of Waitrose.

As a long-time member of the Sainsbury tendency, I was stung by this blatantly elitist jibe.

In any case, there isn't a Waitrose near us.

If Sainsbury's is for the riff-raff, however, where does that leave the customers who shop at Tesco and Morrison's.

What are people who do their shopping at Asda to be called?

Her Royal Highness Princess Eugenie Victoria Helena of York, since you ask.

Yes, the sixth in the line to the throne does her shopping in Asda. And not just in any Asda, but in the Asda at Wolstanton.

Well, she did last Wednesday, or at least some witnesses say she did. The store did not deny the rumours. "Clearly she thinks she gets the best prices in Asda," said the manager, doubtless slapping a buttock as she spoke.

Asda are hardly going to disabuse customers who imagine they have glimpsed a minor royal in the aisles between the Toilet Ducks and the Vanish.

My difficulty is that I wouldn't recognise Princess Eugenie if she cartwheeled past the baked beans wearing a leopard skin bikini and a diamond tiara.

Others might, however, because this particular young royal is not always over-dressed when snapped by the paparazzi.

Still, I do think it's a good thing for the less exalted members of the House of Windsor to be seen fully-clothed in supermarkets as well as scantily-clad on luxury yachts.

It would be good for their collective image to quit the polo field for an afternoon and mingle with the boys in Ladbroke's or William Hill.

And to make it more interesting for all concerned, I would propose reinstating – in spirit at least – that fondly remembered figure from the past, Mr Lobby Lud.

"Lobby who?" I hear you ask, not unreasonably since he has not put in an appearance for about 60 years.

A Fleet Street wheeze of yesteryear was to dispatch a member of staff incognito to one of the popular seaside resorts like Blackpool.

This person would parade up and down the prom, and anyone sussing the newspaper's agent could challenge him with the statement: "You are Lobby Lud and I claim my £5."

Well, that's how I understand it – it was a bit before my time, after all (maybe someone reading this column actually challenged Lobby Lud).

Princess Eugenie's visit to Asda made me realise that there are any number of younger royals, scions of the various branches of the House of Windsor, who are unknown to me.

We tend not to move in quite the same circles, and since I seldom read the society gossip pages they have me at a marked disadvantage.

If there was a fiver in it, I might make more of an effort, though.

Let these blue-bloods follow Eugenie's lead and spend time in supermarkets, bookies, hairdressers etc, discreetly dining in McDonald's and drinking in Wetherspoon's, but having fivers at the ready to reward the alert commoner.

Imagine the thrill of recognition, the blissful moment when you can confidently declare: "You are The Hon Lady Violet Pilchard-Bright and I claim my £5."