I’m not proud to admit that I love property as entertainment, especially smooth-brained “reality” shows in which peptide-plumped, pilates-honed NYC Amazons in towering Louboutins scrap over commission on Upper West Side condos. It’s a world where make-believe sums of money are bandied around, drama is manufactured, people say “I’m super excited” without any part of their preternaturally glossy faces moving and every surface is Carrara marble. I’m never more at peace than when I’m slumped under a crisp-strewn blanket, muttering “that’s hideous” at a $26m (£19m)........

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