Halloween With Miley And Lilo (I Want Candy)

It's the 31st of October 2013, East Dulwich, South London. Every house is decked in their finest 'house of horrors collection' decorations from Oliver Bonas. The sweets have been purchased from Hope and Greenwood, THE place to take your little dahhhlings for their E number fix. There is a knock on my door, our first trick or treaters in our new house. The scene that greets me is post-apocalyptic, VMAs 2013 style. It's as if Lindsay Lohan and Miley Cyrus have turned up on my door step. Last year Mrs Tabitha-Drew's children went as a ghost and a zombie. This year Bruschetta and Olive have turned up looking for their 'candy' (thanks Disney channel), dressed as the new horrors of the generation. Lilo and Miley. 

It is, of course, only the 12th of October. Halloween is still two weeks away, but preparations in this South London, Yummy Mummy, Mecca have begun in earnest. There are pumpkin carving competitions in every shop that sells cushions that cost £50. Dress your dog as a celebrity for a free pint evenings and cobwebs in every window that are normally kept pristine. This year, however, there will definitely be something different. Earlier this week I read a statistic that the foam finger is this year's best-selling costume item. Are we really entering into a new age where we dress up as the real horrors of the year? What happened to going as a vampire or even a 'sexy kitten'? Is it because we have decided that Miley is a cultural icon or are people just 'doing it for the lols'. One thing is certain, she's certainly made an impact, in fact I can't believe I am still talking and writing about it. Maybe I actually love her and don't realise it? Maybe the real question is where can I order a foam finger and can I get it special delivery? 

Happy Birthday Percy Pig (and the humbling of teenage boys)

If you haven't been in to a branch of Marks and Spencer in the past few weeks then I envy you. It is the annual pilgrimage that you have to make as a schoolchild and then, for me this year, as the brother of a schoolchild. It seems that Mother's, (probably quite rightly), insist on taking you there to kit you out for the new school year as their 'shirts wash better and trousers iron easier'. This was the first time I visited M&S in late August and wasn't being shoved in to itchy white shirts or horrible black trousers. It gave me a refreshing look at this end of summer pastime. Marks and Spencer in late August and early September is a humbling experience for teenage boys. Away from the safety of home they have to obey their Mothers whilst trying hard to impress the girl who is looking at the blue blouses on the next rail. They are then frogmarched to the changing rooms where various garments are tried on and paraded around in, in front of a sofa full of mothers who are probably debating how long it will be before they have to sew up a hole in them. For a 15 year old boy a pretty annoying experience. I overheard one boy say to his mother 'I can't wait to be a student so I can wear what I want.' My advice to him is: Your schooldays are the best days of your life, your parents pay for your clothes.

In other news, my visit to Marks and Spencer revealed to me that the nation's sweetheart, Percy Pig, is turning 21. Ridiculously overpriced but still the saviour of long journeys and work days, Percy is finally becoming a proper adult. Whilst waiting in the queue to pay for my bottle of Pink Grapefruit lemonade and bag of pigs I wondered about how Percy would spend his birthday? Would he go crazy and get completely off his face on MDMA? He is, after all, a national celebrity. As the M&S website states dear old P is 'A hit with the fashion world, musicians and sports stars'. So maybe good old Perc likes to live the rock and roll lifestyle and will eventually become Britain's answer to Lindsay Lohan? They do also, however, point out that Percy contains 'no artificial colours or flavourings', so maybe he checked himself in to a Vegan spa for a few days and drank pig feed, skinny smoothies? Whilst browsing the M&S website I scrolled through the whole Percy Pig section. (Yes, there is a whole 'Happy Birthday Percy', bit'). You can now buy almost anything with Percy's face on. Bags, tins, money boxes and even hampers. Poor Percy, plaster his face on stuff to sell before eating it, and I bet he gets no royalties from Marks and Sparks.

The September Issue-Music

Music is a massive part of my life. I listen to music when I'm sad, happy, shopping, stuffing a turkey, you get the idea. I listen to music all of the time. I also have a musical memory that allows me to relate specific times of my life with songs. I could probably tell you when a song was number 1 by thinking of what I was doing at the time. I like my music to connect with what I am doing, in a weird way, so that when I am listening to music, walking along the street it fits perfectly. That's why I have specific songs I listen to when Autumn comes. Just listening to this music makes me long for crisp, Autumn days, falling leaves and my trusty coats and scarves. So here are my picks for the first September Issue post. Perfect Autumn m

Blondie's 'Heart Of Glass'

The Specials and 'Message To You Rudy'

I'm not usually a big Buble fan but I make an exception for this brilliant version of 'A Foggy Day' (especially as I am moving to London this Autumn)

Haddaway and 'What Is Love'

I am aware of what the lyrics to this song really mean but for me it is another Autumn song. The harpsichord is really warm and the words 'golden brown' well they speak for themselves regarding Autumn. 

So they are my picks for Autumn listening. There will be more from the September issue looking at art, fashion, illustration and many more. 

The September Issue

Every good publication has its flagship September issue so for the first couple of weeks of September I will be sharing my picks for Autumn/Winter 2012. Everything from music to books and art to fashion will be covered so I hope you enjoy reading about what Autumn means for me! 

The September Issue series will begin tomorrow. 

The First X Factor Post! Hello Christmas!

Now, I appreciate that as soon as you read the sentence you are (hopefully) about to read you may just stop reading altogether but bear with it. Watch last Saturday's X Factor. There I said it. Television snobs turn your noses up at me all you like but the latest episode of my staple Autumn/Winter programme was a classic. I love X Factor and am not ashamed to say it. I may not buy into the 'reality' of it all and can sense some truth in the fixing rumours surrounding the show but I know one thing for sure: the programme is hilarious. I was actually out last Saturday night with a friend but managed to catch one of the 50 repeats ITV manages to splatter gun their weekly schedule with when we got in. My friend, Lucy, hates X Factor but being the amazing friend she is agreed to sit down with me, cups of tea and lemon curd sandwiches to feast on the brashness of X Factor. Within 5 minutes she was laughing along with me as contestant after contestant got their 'dreams shattered' by the judges. The best part of the whole show, however, didn't come until halfway through when the one and only Mel B appeared as the first guest judge of the series. Every word that woman uttered was pure gold. For the rest of the episode normal order was forgotten. The television was ignored until Scary Spice spoke, her words flowing over Lucy and I and turning us in to 'Melanators'. For hours after I only spoke like Mel B. We imagined that she only spoke in the third person. "Melanie B never says yes, people only say yes to Melanie B" we shouted in our best Leeds accents. Her honesty on X Factor and unwillingness to say yes to mediocre acts just because they had 'something about them' showed what X Factor has been lacking for the past couple of years. We need Mel B to bring back the glory days of Sharon, Cheryl, Louis and nasty Simon. I want the days back when a national scandal would be made out of Sharon throwing water over Simon! So X Factor's school report thus far reads: 'Must try harder'