I can’t
remember if I’ve mentioned it before but I’m not a big fan of Jeremy Clarkson. So
the last thing I want to be is a Clarkson-esque comedy ranter. However, some
things just demand rantification (things like Jeremy Clarkson). And this week,
my chosen topic is “all the stuff”. I am aware that someone has written a book
loosely on this subject, entitled “Is It Just Me Or Is Everything Shit?”. I
have not read the book – it sounded a bit not-really-worth-writing-a-book-about
for my tastes. But the sentiment is fair. I say this not to be funny or
controversial, but to make a serious point. A call to arms, if you will:
against rubbishness.
I’m coming towards the end of a fairly extensive renovation project on my flat. Actually, you can delete the ‘fairly’. It’s been about as substantial a renovation project as one can do on a one-bed flat the size of a postage stamp. It has involved completely gutting, re-wiring, re-plastering, re-flooring, installing a new bathroom and kitchen, under floor heating, new hardware throughout, and then decorating to my ridiculous tastes. A Young Person with a loose grasp of what words mean would probably say it’s been ‘epic’. It has not, of course, been epic. The Hundred Years War was epic, this has been a large-scale flat renovation.
My frequent companions throughout the project were Lucy Alexander and Martin Roberts. And for those of you who have jobs, they are the presenters of the 10am home makeover programme “Homes Under the Hammer”. As companions go they’re both incredibly irritating. (They seem to have those personalities that only daytime television presenters are allowed to have – where everything they say or do is at once nice, and mildly amusing, but unsettlingly and inexplicably cringe-inducing.) But they do present one of the most dangerously addictive programmes on television so, like that friend you’re only friends with because they have a good DVD collection, I’ve stuck with them.*
The basic format of the show is that Lucy or Martin charge round a semi-detached two-up-two-down in Hounslow or somewhere awful rambling about parking access and ‘potential’, we watch a load of rich people bidding for it at auction, then the buyer does it up in slightly longer than they thought it would take for slightly more than they had in their original budget but sell it or rent it for a ridiculous profit anyway. It’s like a big lovely advert for capitalism. And smiling inanely.
I’m coming towards the end of a fairly extensive renovation project on my flat. Actually, you can delete the ‘fairly’. It’s been about as substantial a renovation project as one can do on a one-bed flat the size of a postage stamp. It has involved completely gutting, re-wiring, re-plastering, re-flooring, installing a new bathroom and kitchen, under floor heating, new hardware throughout, and then decorating to my ridiculous tastes. A Young Person with a loose grasp of what words mean would probably say it’s been ‘epic’. It has not, of course, been epic. The Hundred Years War was epic, this has been a large-scale flat renovation.
My frequent companions throughout the project were Lucy Alexander and Martin Roberts. And for those of you who have jobs, they are the presenters of the 10am home makeover programme “Homes Under the Hammer”. As companions go they’re both incredibly irritating. (They seem to have those personalities that only daytime television presenters are allowed to have – where everything they say or do is at once nice, and mildly amusing, but unsettlingly and inexplicably cringe-inducing.) But they do present one of the most dangerously addictive programmes on television so, like that friend you’re only friends with because they have a good DVD collection, I’ve stuck with them.*
The basic format of the show is that Lucy or Martin charge round a semi-detached two-up-two-down in Hounslow or somewhere awful rambling about parking access and ‘potential’, we watch a load of rich people bidding for it at auction, then the buyer does it up in slightly longer than they thought it would take for slightly more than they had in their original budget but sell it or rent it for a ridiculous profit anyway. It’s like a big lovely advert for capitalism. And smiling inanely.
The comforting thing about it all from a property development perspective is that everyone, no matter how atrocious their taste or poor the quality of their handiwork, seems to make a shedload of cash, despite the fact most of it was filmed in the middle of a massive sod off recession (remember that?); the discomforting thing about it from a faith in humankind perspective is that everyone, no matter how atrocious their taste or poor the quality of their handiwork, seems to make a shedload of cash, despite the fact most of it was filmed in the middle of a massive sod off recession (remember that?). Which means people all over the country are buying this shit. In their thousands. With their thousands.
What almost everyone seems to do is take a ‘slightly dated’ property, tear everything out because it’s ‘slightly dated’, and then put back cheap shit stuff, which in 20 years’ time, will probably be torn out again in episode 7561 of Homes Under the Hammer or Homes Under the Space-Computer or whatever they’ll have instead of hammers in The Future, because it will be ‘slightly dated’.
On one episode a seasoned developer was asked what his secret to success was. His response was: “Remember you’re in this to make money and it’s not your own property. Don’t put too much time, effort or money into making the finishing look nice, it only needs to be good enough to get the tenants in.” Lucy Alexander nodded and smiled enthusiastically. “Very wise words”. Wise, perhaps. But am I alone in finding this utterly depressing?
The tragic thing is that he is right, and he is only stating what has essentially become a mantra of the modern world: Don’t make a really good job of things, it’s not worth any more money. You see this phenomenon in many aspects of modern life: in modern architecture, in fashion, in most consumer goods (they should be called consumer good enoughs). Sure, often good enough is good enough, but whatever happened to taking pride in the way things look and feel? Good quality may not necessarily be worth any more money but isn’t it sometimes worth it as, dare I say it, an end in itself? Don’t we want things to be good just because it’s good to be good, not just good enough?
I’m not into all that ‘everything used to be better’ nonsense – they didn’t even have Facebook in olden times – but, though they may have been as mad as a box of frogs the Victorians at least knew the importance of quality stuff for people’s wellbeing. They knew that a rounded brick on the edge of a building would make it look better, even if it cost more and was harder to produce. Because a building will be around for a long time, and people have to live there, and when things around us look and feel better quality, we feel better. It's that simple. And yet we seem to have collectively forgotten this.
I've tried, in my own renovation, to source most things second-hand and have therefore got much better quality pre-loved stuff for a fraction of the price. Good for me, aren’t I wonderful? I know I sound smug (smug is my shtick, deal with it) but I haven’t done it as a duty to mankind; in most cases it’s made my flat better, my budget lower, and sometimes even made my life easier. Though admittedly lifting the cast iron bath up the staircase will be filed in the same compartment of my brain as “that time I fell over in school assembly” and “all the births on One Born Every Minute”.
Whilst attempting to shoehorn the second-hand kitchen, which came from a large farmhouse, into my shoebox-sized flat, my dad literally said 67 times “this would have been a lot easier if you’d just bought a new kitchen from IKEA.” Which is undoubtedly true. But I think even my dad, in his weaker moments, would admit that it’s sometimes worth making the effort for quality. Otherwise everything will just keep getting rubbisher and rubbisher and we’ll all end up sat in our rubbish underpants, on our rubbish Argos sofas eating Morrisons ready meals and watching Topgear. And nobody wants that.
So can I invite you to make a pledge with me, against rubbishness. Join me in the fight to get good stuff just because it’s good, and to resist the lure of the cheapubiquitousgubbins. If this movement had a hashtag, it would be #banishtherubbish. And I will start by swearing not to watch Homes Under the Hammer ever again. Maybe.
*I don’t really have a friend like that. But if anyone out there has a great DVD collection and would like to be used in such a fashion, step this way.
