The streets they are a-changin...but it would be nice if they did n't in some cases. Occasionally, I spend a few days in Chiswick; I can't claim residency status, but I feel I have accumulated enough time under my belt, to at least give me the sense of an emotional stake in the place. Nice area, comfortable, I like it. One day, I'll break camp and leave the inner city and retire here. It's rural compared to where I live. I mean it: there’s grass, trees, dogs on leads, it’s that kind of place.

Even in this relative Eden, though, there's a worm in the bud. Looming across the High Street is the shadow of a figure in a starched white apron bearing an espresso. Brasseries have arrived. In force. Popping up like mushrooms after the rain. For the small restaurant and café owners, who in my view give Chiswick it's unique signature, this can only be like having a factory fishing ship permanently moored outside. Passing trade snapped up, swallowed right in front of them. And all they’ll end up aspiring to, before no doubt eventually expiring, is a few scraps thrown over the side of these brooding monsters. Morsels fought over after the feast.

I saw their futures begin to shape a few nights ago: odd tables occupied, more staff than customers, pretty bleak. Nearby, a honey pot brasserie buzzed and hummed. How long before parts of the High Street assume the appearance of an abandoned Western stage set: doors swinging loosely, tumbleweed cannoning against empty store fronts, leaves heaped up by the wind, ghosts of diners past wandering through boarded-up restaurants.

Surely Chiswick needs a breather from any more juggernaut brasseries parking up on the High Street?

Any different where I call home ? Please, I wish. I live near Portobello Road which is curdling in front of my eyes; the corporates are slowly tunneling into this quirky and goofy and charming Souk. Today exotica, tomorrow a shopping mall? Please no. I can’t cross my fingers any tighter – the circulation’s hurting.

London's shoppers need somewhere tart, somewhere piquant, somewhere for quirky odds and sods. Let Bluewater and Thurrock do what they do best, and Portobello what it does. Two different shopping experiences, let's ensure it stays that way.

Portobello Road needs whatever the equivalent of endangered species recognition is for wacky street markets right now. West London's Bazaar can't be covered in the equivalent of shopping kudzu vine : more mobile phone shops, chain boutiques, franchised coffee outlets ….

You think I’m being precious writing just about these two areas? These are the places I know. As sure as eggs are eggs, there’ll be somewhere close to your heart that’s going the same way.

My plea to the developers and landlords. C'mon guys, leave these places alone. We need to be able to buy light bulbs and potatoes just as much as we need to idly spend hours pushing wild sea bass around a plate. Don't think I don't enjoy dropping into these places, I do, but let's get sensible.