Is This The Most Dangerous Woman In Britain?

The photograph above is of the TV lifestyle presenter Kirsty Allsop, and she has ruined my life. Singlehandedly, this woman has corrupted the tastes and minds of the young urban bourgeoisie, depraving them into delusional fantasies that no lifestyle is complete without stainless steel kitchens, sleek Scandinavian stripped pine furniture, beige angora throws and ceramic lighting units. Interior decoration is the new pornography and this woman is its high priestess.
The net result of this diet of lifestyle fantasy is that prospective tenants looking for rental accommodation in South London all harbour utterly unrealistic expectations about the quality of gaff their hard-earned valuta will get them. Forget Rachman: landlords are now an oppressed class forced into ever more ruinous renovations and redesigns to attract the discerning tenant. I have just managed to acquire two of these elusive beasts for the Battersea flat. At what cost in terms of pandering to the TV-mediated tastes of the aspirational urbanite I will not say. But the nightmare of renovation is over and I am sitting by the window of the deceptively spacious reception room on a warm winter morning waiting for Lloyd the South African plumber to take his kit and go. On Saturday the girls move in. All that remains is to clean the place one more time and I can leave it, knowing that I can force myself back into unfamiliarity more easily, and it will be someone else's personal, domestic machine for living.
As to Ms Allsop, a sustained period of silence from her would be most welcome.