And on the other side of the same coin, I recall a trip to England with my father. We were visiting relatives in the south, and then wanted to explore the northern part of the country. Not having relatives there, we booked a hotel in advance, sight unseen. It was a long drive, we got lost a couple of times on the way, and we arrived hungry and exhausted. Also, I was dressed VERY comfortably for the drive; in fact, my faded jeans had holes in them and on top I was wearing a baggy t-shirt.
The hotel was classier than we'd been expecting, and on arrival (it was past usual dinner hour) we asked if there was anywhere we could get something to eat. We were thinking sandwiches or a pub down the road, or something. The person at the desk said, "Certainly. Right this way." We followed him to a very nice, high-end restaurant within the hotel. I was horribly embarrassed about my ripped jeans and if I'd known, I would have changed first. I think my dad was similarly casually dressed, though I was the one who felt like a real slob. It was the kind of place where the prices weren't listed on the menu. We'd had something more casual and inexpensive in mind, but we figured, "What the heck, we're here, let's enjoy it." We had a fantastic meal and were treated with the utmost respect throughout, as though we were their most well-heeled customers. Even though I was horribly dressed for the occasion.
There is money, and then there is class, and the two are not necessarily synonymous.