Nationwide says prices in London dropped at an annual rate of 1.7% in September
House prices in Britain unexpectedly fell last month amid mounting fears over the impact of no-deal Brexit on the property market.
According to the latest snapshot from the Nationwide building society, prices fell in September by 0.2%, pulling down the average price of a home to £215,352 from £216,096 in August. Economists polled by Reuters had forecast a 0.1% rise on the month.
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Rolling coverage of the latest economic and financial news, including the latest UK house price and factory data
London’s housing market is leading the downturn, with prices sliding by 1.7% year-on-year in the last quarter, Nationwide reports.
Prices in the ‘Outer Metropolitan’ region also fell, by 1.5%, reflecting the impact of Brexit uncertainty on the capital.
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“UK annual house price growth almost ground to a halt in September, at just 0.2%. This marks the tenth month in a row in which annual price growth has been below 1%.
“Indicators of UK economic activity have been fairly volatile in recent quarters, but the underlying pace of growth appears to have slowed as a result of weaker global growth and an intensification of Brexit uncertainty. However, the slowdown has centred on business investment – household spending has been more resilient, supported by steady gains in employment and real earnings.
His Zen-like attention to detail has found beauty in everything from high fashion stores to steak knives. Now John Pawson invites us into his new Cotswold home, and challenges us to find clutter
Driving into the low hills outside Moreton-in-Marsh, the archetypal Cotswold village, I was slightly concerned about finding John Pawson’s farmhouse from the sparse address I’d been given. I need not have worried. Pawson, probably the most influential British architectural designer of his generation, has for 40 years been a minimalist scourge of chocolate box and chintz. I pass half a dozen farm dwellings in various states of confected picturesque before I reach one that instantly gives itself away with the discreet rigour of its window lines and the angle of its cut stone and the crispest junction of lawn and gravel. I don’t know what the opposite of ramshackle is exactly, but Pawson does.
He and his wife Catherine bought the farm buildings here six years ago. They had been owned by the neighbouring dairy farming family of nine siblings, two of whom, both bachelors in their 80s, had lived in them all their adult lives. The brothers inhabited a bedroom each and a makeshift kitchen in one of the add-ons to the original 17th-century house. The rest of the jumble of rooms and barns were filled with old farm tools and junk, and decorated with wallpapers of uncertain vintage. They are not any longer.
His Zen-like attention to detail has found beauty in everything from high fashion stores to steak knives. Now John Pawson invites us into his new Cotswold home, and challenges us to find clutter
Driving into the low hills outside Moreton-in-Marsh, the archetypal Cotswold village, I was slightly concerned about finding John Pawson’s farmhouse from the sparse address I’d been given. I need not have worried. Pawson, probably the most influential British architectural designer of his generation, has for 40 years been a minimalist scourge of chocolate box and chintz. I pass half a dozen farm dwellings in various states of confected picturesque before I reach one that instantly gives itself away with the discreet rigour of its window lines and the angle of its cut stone and the crispest junction of lawn and gravel. I don’t know what the opposite of ramshackle is exactly, but Pawson does.
He and his wife Catherine bought the farm buildings here six years ago. They had been owned by the neighbouring dairy farming family of nine siblings, two of whom, both bachelors in their 80s, had lived in them all their adult lives. The brothers inhabited a bedroom each and a makeshift kitchen in one of the add-ons to the original 17th-century house. The rest of the jumble of rooms and barns were filled with old farm tools and junk, and decorated with wallpapers of uncertain vintage. They are not any longer.
Landlords are turning communal space into bedrooms, depriving tenants of somewhere to socialise. What does this mean for the health and happiness of Generation Rent?
If confirmation were needed that the shared house is no longer a home but a collection of sleeping spaces designed primarily to make your landlord even richer, stand by for depressing news about the death of the living room.
According to an analysis of house-sharing websites advertising rooms for rent, 90% advertised in London had no separate living room, with communal space turned into a bedroom. The research by the Times found one living room had been divided into two small bedrooms with a partition wall going across a radiator and a window. In another, the bed was centimetres from an old gas fire. Of properties that now had five bedrooms, 88% were not registered as houses in multiple occupation (HMO), which have minimum size standards, and some were illegally small.
