A little piece of Switzerland

Just around the corner from where I live, and something that cheers me on my morning walk to work, is a porch in the style of an alpine chalet entrance. If, that is, you could buy alpine chalets in Argos.
What pleases me the most is the incongruity of the structure. I live in the netherworld between the urban and the suburban in London's trendy East End™. This particular appendage is unapologetically stuck on a early 20th century terraced house among a row of unassuming brick- or pebbledash-fronted family homes.
To add to my general pleasure, the front door is frequently open. Behind the Beware of the Dog signs (probably an aging pit-bull named Tyson) is an avocado shagpile carpet and an approximation of ostentatious furniture, clearly obtained within a budget of £20 per item. Including porcelain figurines.
I don't intend to mock it, despite what I say. I love that someone has thought hard enough about their house to want to decorate it in such a way; that they want to give the impression of garvitas and class with their teak-effect cupboards and exquisite mass-produced ornaments. But most of all I love it because they have added the porch they wanted, in the style they like, and to hell with the surrounding environment.
Am I being patronising? Hell yes, but I can't help smiling every time I see it. And, although I wouldn't want to live in something like that, I'm glad that someone does.