THE latest status symbol for smug middle-class dickheads is a shed at the bottom of the garden they can ‘work’ in. But what are they actually doing?
Julian Cook, summerhouse, Market Drayton
“We bought a summerhouse so I could carry on with my £80k a year role as a branding rights consultant from home. It’s insulated, double-glazed and has a wood-burning stove. The kids aren’t allowed in it. It’s hidden by trees. I go to the house twice a day when I absolutely have to.”
Grace Wood-Morris, beach hut, Bangor-on-Dee
“I insisted my husband provide me with a separate space for my handicrafts business, so I’ve got this lovely cosy beach hut. It’s such a calm, reassuring, affluent space that on the first day I came down, I had a wank. And the second day. And every day thereafter.”
Susan Traherne, pagoda, Llanbedr
“The neighbours had a summerhouse delivered so we one-upped them with a hexagonal pagoda of sustainable cedar. It’s linked to all our wildlife cameras, which are pointed at the neighbours’ garden, and I sit in there and watch them obsessively day and night in case they get something else we haven’t got.”
Joseph Turner, luxury garden pod, Hackney
“Since the pandemic everyone has got back in touch with their roots, so about eight times a day I like to stroll down here, close the sliding doors and inhale a bong full of weed. It really relaxes me. I can’t even remember what I used to do as a job. I’ve started dealing.”
David Cameron, shepherd’s hut, Chipping Norton
“I’ve f**ked my career up so badly that my wife’s thrown me out of the house. I screwed up my last proper job by gambling and losing, I wrote a book nobody bought, I can’t get work as a consultant and everyone hates me. I’ve made a total bollocks of my entire life. Still, nice hut isn’t it? All the colours are Farrow & Ball.”
