Sometimes snobbishness is more about identity and class identification than it is about anything else. I remember reading a book by Rosemary Verey in which she describes how the landscaper in one of her jobs for very upper-crust British clients mistook her verbal order for 150 Camieux roses as 150 "Cameo" roses. She was simply horrified by the "garish" results when the roses bloomed orange rather than red with white stripes. Absolutely horrified. She had them ripped out and replaced at his expense. David Austin still offers subtle apology in his catalogues when he offers a rose with strong orange or orange-red coloration. Yet some of the best orange roses extant were bred in England.
I think there has been some snobbisheness around old roses, with people "in the know" enbracing them while those new to rose gardening just bought whatever was on the shelves at the local garden center. Couple this with a big dose of "more is better" reasoning and you have the makings of a first class rose snob who wants only "ancient roses."
Pretending to know is so much more pleasurable than knowing. It takes a lot less work, and you get to imagine that you know so much more than you really do. I've had some experience with both.
