This is a house with an office in it. Accordingly, Griffiths has designed it with a three-dimensional façade that looks like a caricature, a cartoon house with an office block jammed on top. He has clad it in pale blue wood-effect cement boarding. He has furthermore seemingly then taken a buzz-saw to it, slicing ornate curlicues out of the parapet and garden wall. There is a lot of attitude to this house. So much attitude, in fact, that you might conclude that it was just a bit of a joke, and pass on. You’d be wrong.

If the façade is a manifesto statement for the post-modern revival that Griffiths has predicted for years and helped on its way, the house interior is an object lesson in making the most out of limited space. FAT has such a hyperbolic, throwaway attitude to architecture (one of their favourite slogans is “kill the modernist within”) and do so much work that is essentially public art rather than building, that you might overlook the fact that Griffiths is clearly a highly talented, rather old-fashioned (in the sense of hands-on, obsessed with detail) architect.

One of the several ironies of the house is that its American-suburban clapboard references are transported to a tight, very urban site in Britain and alchemised into something else. It has, for instance, an ornate variety of Dutch gable cut out of its southward-facing parapet. A cloud-like shape sitting on top of the garden wall seems to have detached itself from further along the wall, drifted along and settled. It serves to conceal a garden shed behind - done in the same deliberately naïve style and materials, but painted pink. And then, to complete the slightly hallucinogenic effect, two windows on the side of the house turn out not to be windows, but panels of coloured sequin-like objects, which ripple in the wind. Just for the hell of it, really.