Hands off my (old) house
Genevieve Fox

Having recently left paradise AKA Primrose Hill, I nearly hurled myself beneath the wheels of the nearest Lexus when I went back to my old manor this weekend. The scaffolding was up on our old building and the front door was open. I so nearly walked in to snoop around and see what the new owners were doing to our former des res, but thought better of it. What would I do if they had ripped up our leather tiles in our bedroom, fondly nicknamed the penthouse suite, or ripped up our end-grain oak flooring? Middle-class vandalism, it’s an epidemic.

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