Literatea

The School Group.

School groups are large, loud and frightening. Usually accompanied by one or two harried-looking teachers, school groups are amorphous organisms that seem to fill every space they enter. Whether leaning moodily against the wall of the Criterion waiting to see the matinee of The Complete Works of William Shakespeare (Abridged) by the Reduced Shakespeare Company, eating everything in sight in the Sainsbury’s Local in Covent Garden or rushing excitedly through the Natural History Museum, school groups are best avoided as invariably the squishy brown stuff will hit the fan when any misbehaviour is uncovered. The idle bystander would be wise to avoid exposure to the glares, threats and gripes of the teaching staff during a nice day out.

The Joggers.

Joggers travel in pairs (although if you’re lucky you’ll spot a pack of jogging ladies at certain times of the day all over London) usually a male/female combination of high-powered training shoes, sports bras and water bottles. Joggers are always skinny, have good jobs and live in boxes in or near Canary Wharf. Their smug jogging outfits, glowing looks and fitness fanaticism makes everyone else in the Capital feel incredibly penitent towards their own bodies, causing them to think hard for the five minutes it takes to walk from wherever they are to the pub about buying some good trainers and a water bottle, getting up at masochistic hours and running through Southbank/Hyde Park/Hampstead Heath. Of course, the call of a cool Stella and a bag of Steak flavoured McCoy’s will soon put a rest to that sort of thinking.

The Artist.

The artist is a loner. The artist is generally found on the South Bank packing away his (elderly, fishing hat, sandals and socks, ethereal and arty look on the face) or her (elderly, flyaway hair, smells like canvas and cats, likes kaftans) newly-finished project- often an oil of the Opposite Side of the river- and artist’s paraphenalia (fishing stool, oils/watercolours, flask of what may or may not be coffee). The artist is also, strangely, usually to be seen sitting in a cordoned-off area which no other mortal (except for the p’lice and council workers) has ever been known to enter (legally, anyway). The mystery remains as to how the artist manages this, although we suspect it may be the fact that anyone wielding some artistic medium (be it a paintbrush or SLR camera) is instantly given respect and space as the Public generally assume that the artist must be on a Very Important Artistic Endeavour of Great Cultural and Artistic Significance.

The Home Counties Brigade.

Female. Travel in packs of between two and six. Favour travelling in to Town from the outlying counties (Kent, Surrey, Essex, Middlesex) by train in order to spend a day a month shopping in the better department stores. The Home Counties brigade are easy to spot. Look out for straw hats with pleated navy calf-length skirts and cardigans with gold buttons. Usually carrying at least two of the following: *Selfridges bag *Harrods bag *Fortnum and Mason bag *Debenhams bag *Allders bag *Viyella bag *Edinburgh Woollen Mill bag. These extremely well-spoken ladies like nothing better than to cut through parks so they’ve had their dose of fresh air for the day and exhaustedly (shopping is good exercise- whatever they may say) finishing their day with a jolly cappucino, natter and comparing purchases with the rest of the Brigade. Hubby’s paying, so they give good tips.

Right now I am watching the television. I am shocked to see performing that (very) overdone duet “I Knew Him So Well” with Elaine Paige and Barbara Dickson (along with Donny Osmond, Lionel Richie and others performing All Time Greatest Throw-Up Reflex Inducing Songs) complete with ITV’s Special Musical Shows Set (big heart archway with illuminating lightbulbs), lots of stairs, dancers and candles. But wait! What’s this I see? I strain my eyes to check- yes! This is the Beeb! Do I smell dumbing down of the BBC?

The Young Professionals.

Usually twenty-something solicitors/barristers/accountants who dream of the day they can go with the other Professionals to Pret’s* for lunch instead of sitting in Green Park eating Mark’s and Spark’s sandwiches because all their available income goes into paying off their degrees. Usually thin, pasty (several years of al fresco London park lunches should cure this) and undernourished-looking, especially in the unisex uniform of skinny black suits they all wear that seems to be crucial to keeping the job.

*Pret a Manger

The Yummy Mummies

Ooer. Yummy mummies are fabulously dressed women who drive to babygym in their 4×4’s and meet afterwards in the park for Smoothies and to let the kiddies toddle about for a bit. They all have sweetie-darling accents, look fabulously fresh-faced and have degrees in English and Russian Literature or History of Art from St Mary’s, Strawberry Hill. Yummy mummies are stick insects with husbands rich enough to allow them a fabulous wardrobe, this season comprising those darling Gap jeans, pink mohair poncho’s and 1940’s style silver stilleto’s from Topshop.
They’re always rushing about to meet each other for coffee and a natter and then saying things like “must dash- I’ll text you!”, giving the impression of busy popularity while really going home for a quiet half hour before hubby gets in and they cook something irresistable from Nigella’s latest book.

Given half the chance, most of us girlies would be Yummy Mummies, this observer included. Just as soon as her adorable and clever bf gets rich enough to buy her a beamer and a large platinum-and-diamond ring.

The Band (incorporating I’m With The Band).

The band, often four or five blokes aged between 16 and 34, do everything together. Besides a heavy gigging* and jamming* schedule, they travel together, find ladies together, grow their hair together (except for the single unfortunate- usually the second guitarist- who is always completely bald), drink together and play XBox together. They buy their second-hand jeans, logoed tees and pinstripe/leather jackets in the same shops, go to the same pub where they know the landlord and occasionally sweep out for him in exchange for a few freebies and are always on the verge of being signed by the guy who produced Seal and JJ72.
The band are easy to spot with their slightly self-conscious but generally smug expression as they stalk, pack-like, through local parks and concrete-and-glass structures with an I’m With The Band filming their every move for footage for their website/promo video/ promo Making of the Band DVD.

*drinking

The Tourist.

This often-seen, highly visible group like to travel in pairs. Regardless of nationality (or weather conditions), the men tend to dress in a uniform of chinos and blue cotton long-sleeved collared shirts. Women tend to look like the men (without the chino’s and often sporting baseball caps, looking confusedly at maps and harrassing Londoners for directions to Notting Hill Gate via Baker Street or whether the number 30 bus goes down Regent’s Street). This tribe prefers to make flying visits of no more than two days to any one city. The speedy nature of their visits coupled with the sheer volume of sights they attempt to take in lead to their most recognisable feature: Digital Gadgets that allow the Tourist to capture all of the historical delicacies they long to remember because they’ll never have full recall themselves due to aforementioned speed with which they attend these activities.

The Traveller.

Not the Romany sort. This tribe likes to wander around in floppy, bright coloured shirts with turned-up jeans and incredibly ugly trainers (just to show they’re Big Into natural transportation i.e. feet but Not Into bunyons) with large, brightly beaded bags usually garnered in Goa or Peru. Generally have that Just-Out-Of-Bed chic about them which makes them feel like they’re back in Pukhet, having woken up around midday and are going to take a swim before tackling the day ahead. Travellers are often seen alone but that’s okay because their perfect tans and peaced-out looks make them look like they’re about to jet off somewhere far-flung in order to meet their Inner Selves but mostly other peaced-out Travellers with perfect tans.