UNTIL now, all most people have known about Simon Cowell is that he loves identikit white T-shirts and embarrassingly high waistbands, and adheres to the Tom Jones school of hair dye.

Oh, how I wish Pandora's Box had never been opened. Thanks to Tom Bower's unauthorised biography, Sweet Revenge: The Intimate Life Of Simon Cowell, we have learned more about the X Factor supremo's nuances than many of us would ever have wished.

Forget what starlets he may (or not) have bedded, the most mind-boggling revelations concern what the music mogul is reputed to spend his millions on. It's hard to decide which of the book's claims is more jaw-dropping. The £3000 a week he supposedly spends on floral arrangements (a sum that would make even Elton John's eyes water). The vintage MG sports car he's said to have bought – only to sell it the next day because it was "too draughty". Or his apparent insistence on black toilet paper in all his loos – at £10 a roll.

But even that pales next to the narcissistic garden feature in his £20 million Beverly Hills mansion, said by Bower to be designed to make it look as if Cowell is walking on water. Judging by Bower's account, not since Julius Caesar has an ego known fewer bounds.

What else goes on behind closed doors at Cowell Towers? I'm imagining a team of scientists hired to genetically modify watermelon so that the seeds don't get stuck in Cowell's pearly white gnashers. Or a mirror that gushes "you're the fairest of them all" when he steps in front of it.

When you have as much money as Cowell there are three options: spend it on pointless tat, build a bonfire and burn it or – call me crazy here – simply give it all away to charity.

Ditch the fresh flowers. Bulk-buy loo roll at Costco. Get some perspective, Mr Cowell.