Summary
TWO of my neighbours put their flats on the market, prompting a visit to the Edinburgh Solicitors' Property Centre website to download the schedules, and a Sunday afternoon game of "Is my flat nicer than yours?" with the neighbour whose floorplan mirrors our own. Superficially, this behaviour is perfectly reasonable. It is only right to monitor one's current rung on the property ladder. But my addiction to Property Porn goes far deeper than that.
Even as a kid, I had what I jokingly refer to as an edifice complex. My parents gave me an oversized scrapbook, and page for page, I devoted as much space to my favourite heart-throbs as I did to pictures of elegant rooms and expensive furnishings. I played a private game using the Sears catalogue (think BHS or Littlewoods), challenging myself to decorate an imaginary home as tastefully as possible, using only the products available inside.See the full content of this document
Extract
Aesthetic Trauma of the Hopeless Property Addict
I pored over property ads in the New York Times Magazine, wondering whether 'twas nobler to have five bedrooms or eight. I studied interior design at night, but quit when it bec...
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