In the Valley, 75 degrees is a cold spell

I for one can't see why people complain about the weather here. Today, a more typical day for October in the San Fernando Valley, an area that has become synonymous the world over for dull, lifeless, upper-middle class suburban mediocrity, replete with strip malls and sprinkler-systems working over time, the mercury poked at a respectable 85. Lying in my friends' garden, sipping iced water, I've come to the conclusion that even suburban mediocrity can't be that bad under the benevolent rays of the California sun. Especially when there are a lot of good, cheap places to eat nearby. Everywhere has its pros and cons, I guess, but I'd pick here over the Home Counties any day of the year. Who needs winter or old buildings anyway?

My sojourn in the city of Angels has so far been a reasonably eventful one: Los Angeles may not boast the same magic of spirit or physical beauty of the Bay Area, but the chaparral cloaked mountains and endless sunshine certainly have their appeal, not to mention mile after mile of soft white sand lapped by a warmer, dirtier part of the Pacific than San Francisco. My first night here took me to the Hollywood Hills: a friend's friend's party in a luxurious modern mansion that proved upscale living in 21st century L.A. can be far more tasteful than anything you see on 'Cribs'. Sipping on Patron and swimming in the pool may seem like a ridiculous cliché, but for my money (or not, as the case may be), it's also a lot of fun. The slightly surreal experience was rounded off nicely in the morning when I awoke to be warned about the Mountain Lion in the garden, followed by the howls of what we could only imagine was a neighbour's pet meeting an untimely end.

The days that followed have consisted of pure indulgence: sunbathing, foot-high stacks of pancakes, strolling along the beach in Santa Monica, delicious tacos and Don Antonio's (an L.A. institution), and relaxation. The highlight was the Getty Center, worth a visit for its spectacular views of the L.A. basin and Santa Monica Bay and Mountains alone - the city's low density means that despite the noise, traffic, smog and smattering of skyscrapers, a lot of it still resembles a carpet of green. Although, given the arid climate and nearby desert landscapes, this verdant appearance may well have more to do with human intervention and the aforementioned sprinklers than nature's continued triumph over the ultimate postmodern sprawl. However there is much more to the Getty Center than the spectacular view: its design could serve as a model for new cultural attractions the world over - combining high quality architecture, a user-friendly yet spacious and scenic layout, well designed public spaces, gardens and generously proportioned exhibition rooms and galleries. The range of art on offer is large without being intimidating: particular highlights included Irving Penn's photographic portraits of 'Small Trades,' and impressive exhibition documenting the rise of french landscape painting. And did I mention the views?

And the leaves fell from the trees.

When I think back over the last couple of years, we didn't really get off too badly this year when it came to summer weather. No, it's not been a summer of endless blue skies, where the heat hits you every morning as you open the window like. But I don't think it really ever felt like opening an oven door, in the UK at least. But even this Saturday the mercury, if not quite soaring, at least bubbled a little bit. After strolling around Broadway Market, my friend and I lay on the parched grass of London Fields and contemplated a life of luxury, with beautiful houses and plentiful holidays, and let the sunshine beat down on us like Midsummer. I tried not to notice that the golden blades of grass matched the golden leaves rustling on the ground.

On Sunday it was cold.

So this is autumn. And my dreams of sunshine become dreams again. I wonder how much longer I'll wish my life away waiting for the next June.

So, Summer '09: Part 1

So I graduated in the glorious sunshine on July 2nd, was tapped on the head with a medieaval space bonnet (don't ask), posed for multiple photos... Packed up my room and headed for the Big Smoke. What a cliché, hey?

I spent the first two full weeks of July interning in the travel section of the Independent, and it was pretty much better than I could have imagined in every way. I learnt loads, they gave me far more useful tasks and responsibilities than I had imagined, and in the end I actually got some pieces of my writing published in the paper - obviously not full length articles, but it's still pretty amazing from where I'm standing. Google my name to see!

As for the rest of the summer, well... The word recession is banded about a lot these days, but what it really meant hadn't hit me until a few weeks ago. If anyone has any paid jobs for a talented young writer with a good work ethic and range of experience... I'll send you my CV on request!

That's not to say it hasn't been a lot of fun. I really do love London, and I can't imagine anything much better than a sunny Sunday at Brick Lane market. The food, the clothes, the people, the stalls, the atmosphere: I'm addicted. But more on that later.

Burberry eases the pain of an impending Autumn

I love Summer. More than I can probably say. I love the sunshine, I love the heat, I love the relaxed attitude, I love warm evenings where you can sit outside drinking with friends, I love going to the beach. I could go on. In Britain, as everyone is aware, Summer is hit and miss, though the last couple of weeks have been pretty decent, but Autumn on the other hand is reliable. You know what's coming: increasingly short, cold days with lots of rain. Lots. I dread it with every fibre of my being; not even the colourful leaves crisping under your feet and the poetic melancholy bring me any sort of happiness. However, reading this September's particularly excellent issue of Dazed & Confused I came across something which did cheer me up about the impending doom - sorry, season - in the form of a snood. A Snood? I hear you say, Isn't that a glorified sports scarf that joins the whole way around? Yes, yes it is. But this season, Burberry have taken the Snood and transformed it into a must-have item. In four prints, including the nova check, which I am just not a fan of, it looks snug and stylish - and I loved D&C's tip to wear it as a cummerbund when you're not protecting your neck. This is what everyone should be using to shut out the cold!

Genius

Passion Pit's incredible 'Sleepyhead'

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5bfseWNmlds

I know it's been around for a while now, but this has to be one of the best new songs out in a LONG time. I can't wait for the album. It's just such a beautiful, refreshing, euphoric track; rich with lush electronic layers that far outstrip most of the many electropop offerings of today's music scene. It feels like being sprayed with fresh, cool water on a hot summer's day. Less than three minutes, but guaranteed to lift your mood.

I'm also loving the new Jack Penate and Dizzee Rascal singles:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3SfrVnYsu1c
So upbeat and so carnival, just a fun song for sunny spring days.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z4lvdOeNUmI
I could only find a live clip, the full intense must-dance-now atmosphere doesn't come across quite as well, but you get the idea.

British Peculiarities, Part 1: Sunshine

Last week we got three whole days of it. The sun was out, the temperatures soared like crazy to... around 60 degrees farenheit. And everyone was happy. Work, cares forgotten. People playing sports, reading, hanging out, picknicking, and talking non-stop about this wonderful pre-summer "heatwave." There were even some crazy poseurs sunbathing. This is Edinburgh, and at the time it was still winter. I love to lay out and fry myself brown, but adding pneumonia to the cancer risk just doesn't add up for me. British people just go crazy in warm weather. Because we get SO LITTLE OF IT. Case in point number 2, after a subsequent week of the usual seasonal grey and wind to add a touch of pathetic fallacy to dissertation hand-in week, followed last night by temperatures of a less-than-balmy -1 celcius (30 F) back home in Leeds and today's sunshine sent my father out into the garden, sans coat, fairly early in the morning to bask. I later made the trip outside, and even with a coat, jumper and tee, I felt reasonably chilly. The sun is strong and warming, yes, but the air is most certainly not. But in Headingley the students (oh, to talk of 'other people' with a collective noun that can be applied to myself) were all out in force in flipflops and board shorts, not a coat to be seen. And it will probably rain most of the year until....well, next year. We'll get a few days of genuinely warm sunshine which will see the parks fill with half-naked bodies (and I shall no doubt throw myself into the madness) and people will complain "Oh, it's so hot, it's too hot..." Is this really what you want, oh Great British Public? Sporadic days of tolerable warmth to revel in in hope of a summer that, if it does come, you will then bemoan?