Last week I stayed over at the London Edition Hotel on Berners Street. I’ve often had meetings at the Berners Tavern, the restaurant on the ground floor of the hotel (an amazingly decadent affair with high ceilings and framed paintings covering every inch of the walls), but I hadn’t ever stayed in one of the rooms.
I had room 521, a double with separate living area, dressing area and large shower room. Wooden walls, wooden floors and white linen on the bed and at the windows – it was like a very posh woodland cabin. A sauna without heat and naked people. Very pleasant, very homely, and all was well until I went to get into bed and saw this directly opposite where my head would be:

Who in their right mind puts a painting of a creepy woman in a hat above the end of a bed" Are the designers at The Edition completely and utterly mad" What interiors trainee was allowed to run beserk with the artwork, putting it in places that would one hundred percent guarantee a bad night’s sleep" For who can lull themselves into a peaceful slumber when there’s a disembodied head, wearing what looks like a cap made from tin foil, gazing discontentedly down from the wall" Apologies if this is a reproduction of a famous painting; fine art is not my strong point. All I know is that this woman has the sort of eyes that follow you from one side of the room to the other and the pallid complexion of a person who has been shut up in an attic for a de...