Guilty Pleasures Version 2.0

Ah, I was a young addict once. Sadly Blogger in its infinite wisdom has seen fit to eat the post in which I told you all about my first furtive activities. In lieu, let me present to you the journey three years on, wherein I have graduated from softer, gateway secrets to full blown socially unacceptable obsessions.

1. Interior Design Blogs. Hooked On Houses is currently topping the must read list, however I'm searching desperately for a blog I once stumbled across which features the adventures of a couple renovating a New York brownstone apartment with superglued crown mouldings. (Sidebar: perhaps I've been watching too many Carry On films recently, but is it just me or does 'thrifting' sound kinda naughty?)
2. Cheese. I shudder to contemplate the exact percentage of my food budget which is spent on cheese, but I love it. I love smooth, mild cheeses with interesting textures. Mozzarella is good. No, not good. It's luscious. Halloumi is a special delight, salty and chewy and moreish. Wendsleydale is a particular favourite from the British Isles, especially when studded with nuggets of apricot or blueberry for a contrast, or when served with quince or figs, and in case the cheese purists are about to burn me at the stake I will seldom say no to a creamy, well flavoured brie or a strong Camembert.
3. Two Fat Ladies. I'm not sure what exactly it is about Clarissa Dickson-Wright and Jennifer Patterson's eighties (?) cookery show that hooks me like a heroin addict. I don't regard my fervent addiction to the culinary works of Sophie Dahl to be an embarassment because she's engaging and charming and I fancy the pants off of her. In fact I would quite happily move in with her and be her live-in assistant in all matters sensual- food related or no. But Two Fat Ladies? Makes. No. Sense. I've tried to work it out. Is it their irreverence and heavy handed use of saturated fats? ("None of this nonsense about yogurt instead of cream," Jen says. Or said. She died, let's not look into it too closely). Their ludicrous posh accents? The casual disdain for vegetarians? The vaguely Sapphic undertones? I may never know.
4. Great British Menu. In a similar vein to the above, I do totally understand how ridiculous this show is. I really do. I caught myself squealing the other day over an underset parfait. No excuse here, I just enjoy melodrama.
5. M.I.A. Which totally does NOT fit in with the rest of my music. In fairness it's a pretty eclectic mix, but I think my music taste can be broken down into either great pianists or great vocalists or great lyricists.
6. The Indigo Girls. I don't know exactly how socially acceptable this is as a musical taste in wider society. A significant proportion of my friends are in the, ahem, niche closely associated with this band so that probably constitutes a skewed sample. 
7. Gingham. I try to curb this particular impulse. My room is decorated (because you're dying to know) in navy blue and dark red, mostly in Indian-esque prints. That sounds really awful actually but trust me it works, I'll post pics. However gingham is kinda invading my life. So far I have accumulated two pillowcases, a miniature teapot, a keyring and several pairs of underwear.
8. Candles. Sometimes I like my space to be pretty alright? Shouldn't you be doing something productive instead of judging me? Yeah, that's what I thought.
9. ETA: Trawling the Real Estate Section of Sotheby's. A guy can dream, amirite?