Bollocks. Beeny's far too whiny: it's impossible to watch her programme without getting increasingly irritated by her distinctly 'me-me-meeee' cataloguing of the many subsidiary mistakes the hapless house-sellers have made - all stemming, naturally, from the fundamental error of Not Paying Enough Attention To Sarah Beeny's Wise Words (Mate). And then, when - wonder of wonders! - the durr-brained developers actually do manage to make a reasonable profit (as they nearly always do), being extreeemely grudging with the credit (They Were Lucky; If They'd Listened To Me, They'd Have Made Seven Hundred Billion More).
Kirsty, on the other hand, is a vision of dumpy, be-pearled, cocktail-frocked loveliness - beautifully offsetting the oddly-reticent Phil. In Heat interviews (yes, what of it?), Kirsty frequently teases Phil by claiming he's a 'gay icon' - which is probably going a little far. I quite liked the suit-and-no-tie thing in the first series, though, and, in the second, he's relaxed into Dress-Down Friday smart-casual - which hints at the gym-pumped physique that doubtless throbs beneath... The Will Young-esque jaw bothers me slightly, but is only really a problem from certain angles.
The programme itself, with its annoyingly wealthy thirty (and even twenty)somethings, tends to pluck my envy strings - particularly when the wannabe pot-glazers (or whatever leisurely 'occupation' they've set themselves) are asked if they can stretch "a little" over budget, and somehow find thirty, forty extra grand down the back of the settee. Their concept of 'budget' is clearly different from mine.
Mind you, I may be bitter and twisted because I am currently languishing in the deeper circles of the English property market (which is markedly crappier than its relatively sensible Scottish counterpart)... |
