Kitchens and bathrooms and bedrooms (oh my!)

I find myself in the market for a new kitchen. The purchase of New House is getting ever closer to completion, allowing me to fantasise about island units and ginormous fridges with ice makers. My first port of call is the magazine rack at Sainsbugs. I always have to conduct plenty of research at home before venturing out into the big world and face to face with 'experts'. This is why my bookshelf carries such tomes as 'Running a Bed and Breakfast in France', 'Starting a shop', 'Grow Your Own Fruit' and 'Goat Breeding for Beginners'.
I scanned the many home stylee magazines and picked up one promising to delight me with 'kitchens, bathrooms and bedrooms'. I have all three of those, thinks I, and duly trot to the checkout. Of course the mag is sealed inside its own little plastic cover, so flicking through wasn't an option. I feel the need to say this as I would never purchased the item, had I but known the truth.
So, once home, the wrapper is torn off and all the little inserts shaken out. I gaze lovingly at the glossy pages and decide to reward myself with a Lush bath and the new untouched magazine. Perfumed bubbles gently steaming, I get myself comfortable in the bath and reverently open the magazine. First few pages are ads and contents. Fine. Move on. Then a 5 page spread on how Jocasta and Tarquin couldn't stand their brand new kitchen, so ripped it out and started again. Their new (yes alright stunning) kitchen dining extravaganza has doors out onto the terrace and a huge central island perfect for their cookery delights. My kitchen is 3m square. I don't think this will fit....
A few more pages in and I come to the (again) huge entertaining kitchen of Jocasta and Tarquin, who party hard in their delightful 62 bedroom mansion. Now this kitchen includes not one but two ambient wine storers and a champagne ice bucket in the (obviously standard) gigninormous central island. Coloured LEDs light the kitchen to create "dazzling" effects. Bear and I don't entertain much to be honest. And we don't drink much either. I think perhaps this kitchen is not suitable inspiration.
I flick through, feeling a little let down now. I find a rather lovely photograph of a pink kitchen. The blurb tells me that it comes "primed and ready to paint" and kitchens "start at £17,000". Seventeen grand? And it's NOT FINISHED! I think either my concept of what a kitchen should cost is vastly underestimated, or this magazine is definitely not for PLU.
I have to add that the bedrooms were no better: beds costing £20,000 and more and as for the bathrooms, well!
I have left the magazine, sad and lonely, in the smallest room, where it shall remain until it learns how to behave like a proper magazine. I, meanwhile, have returned to the relative safety of the web. To kuchen huus and beyond!