HAVING seen an advert asking for neighbours or friends to take part in a new series of Changing Rooms, I was briefly tempted to apply. But, even with the dishevelled state of my house, I wouldn’t risk anyone else going to town on it with wood, paint and fabric.

It was years ago, but I still remember the disasters that left people less than impressed on the show. There was the living room full of weird boxes and scatter cushions and an unwelcoming bed with what looked like a squashed bison spread across it.

And who could forget the shelving unit lined with a woman’s precious tea pot collection, that came crashing to the ground?

Changing Rooms was good entertainment for viewers, but taking part must surely be more stress than fun.