Walking around the trashier Piccadilly end of Mayfair, I stumbled across somewhere called Fait Maison, with enough faux blooms crawling over it to cause faux hay fever. Maybe there was a brief moment when the look was almost charming — perhaps when sugary American cake shop Peggy Porschen first landed in London. But everyone with a modicum of taste now seems to be well and truly over it. When I posted a snap of Fait Maison on my Stories captioned “uggggh enough of this dusty twee bollox” — well, I was in a hurry — I got more messages of support than I ever have on Instagram. (Apart from when I got into a mild beef with one of the posh blokes from Topjaw.)