Coutts is the sort of private bank that inspired Gringotts.
You already know that you'll never be a member - you aren't rich enough or posh enough. Or entitled enough - with or without actual title. Enobled enough.
The plot of On Her Majesty's Secret Service hinges on Blofeld being not just a supervillain, but a supervillain entitled enough to expect a peerage.
Enobled.
Entitled.
Now, if it was me? I would have enough self knowledge to realise my clientele were the most odious and entitled human beings on the planet. Not 'your kind of person'? I rather think he is exactly your kind of person.
And now everyone is going to wade in, because the modern arch-Brexiteer Tories all think they are exactly THAT SORT OF PERSON. That Coutts should be falling over themselves to cater to Suella and Ritchie and Boris et al. God knows after all that these are people to whom ghastly is simply another line of a resume.
Coutts is like posh banking Wonderland. Ghastly? We're all ghastly here.