Every day I pass this newsstand at Waterloo , which carries all the celebrity mags.

I have to admit it has a strange pull over me. I have to stop when I walk past it. Who is Lily Allen’s other man? [poor Ed, I say]. And is it really divorce for Ashley and Cheryl? [or isn’t it?] And where the hell is Kerry Katona this week? [Phew - here she is]

I never actually buy anything off it - that’s partly because we get Grazia and Heat delivered to the house; but also because rather like scanning headlines in a newsreader, these screaming coverlines are a complete read all in their own.

I feel I should take a photo of it every week and then publish all the photos in a book to provide a chronicle of celebrity Britain - the weekly travails of who’s getting together and breaking up; who weighs too much and who weighs too little; who has a stunning new look and who is in meltdown; whose boobs have been made bigger, and whose have been reduced; who’s pregnant, nearly pregnant, thinking about getting pregnant and who has shed their baby weight within a week.

And no, I don’t know how Monocle ended up on their, either; and Nuts (or is that Zoo?) in the bottom left looks a bit out of place there as well.