Travelled to That London yesterday and visited our shiny new offices in Jermyn Street. If you’ve not been to Jermyn Street, you really should take the time. Some of the shops there seem to have entirely ignored this, all of the 20th and a fair chunk of the 19th century, and are still selling the sort of gear that would suit the….well, the only word I can think of is ‘dandy’.

In fact, really close to our office is a statue of Beau Brummell, a sort of Russell Brand of his day, although obviously without the radio phone-in. Or the hilarious line in wacky mysogynism. Anyway, Beau Brummell is credited with inventing the man’s suit and tie, and much more that passes for western ‘style’. He claimed to take at least 5 hours to get dressed in the morning, thereby beating most other men by around 4 hrs 55min. Anyway, his influence is absolutely felt on Jermyn Street, which has all manner of small men’s outfitters, with the most amazing shirts, socks, cufflinks, waistcoats and dressing gowns on display – hugely desirable and beautifully made, although I suspect they might look better in the window than on the customer. I’ve only just started going past these shops in the last few weeks, and already I have the strangest hankerings for long extravagant socks and a smoking jacket.

So it seems only right and proper to make an effort when travelling to London, as I like to think that life is too short to look scruffy in such historic company. And, this morning, in exceptionally pointy shoes, and overcoat, I will admit that I thought I was cutting rather a dash (as they probably don’t say in the shops around these parts).

So I really thought my time as a style icon had come, when a gentleman in a tweed jacket fell into step beside me as I walked out of the office to get a cab.

(He) ‘Well, sir, it’s not often I see someone as beautifully coordinated as you, looking like a true gentleman, along Jermyn Street”

(Me, slightly worried) “Err, thanks”

(He, beginning to sound like a Lionel Bart character) “Yes indeed, I’m enjoying both the cut of your coat and the point of your shoe”

(Me, slightly alarmed that I might have been selected for some bizarre grooming project) “Err, thanks, you’re very kind”

Of course, at this stage, I was secretly Very Pleased Indeed. At last, recognised as the style icon I’d always hoped to be. Move over, Peter York….there’s a new kid in town and he’s wearing a big brown coat…

This reverie lasted for about 15 seconds, at which point my new friend tried to sell me a copy of The Big Issue. Ho hum.

In 2006, the Health and Social Care Information Centre announced that one in four children in England were clinically obese.

From 1995 to 2004, obesity among boys aged 11-15 rose from 14% to 24% and girls from 15% to 26%.

The problem is not just a health and social one, although you would think that this would be enough to spur the nation into some sort of action. It’s also an economic one – currently obesity related illness costs the NHS around £1bn per year, plus an estimated £2.5bn cost to the overall economy. And it doesn’t look as if the problem is going to be easily contained. Here’s an example: while giving blood last week, I was speaking to one of the nurses who had just completed a dissertation on the challenges facing blood donations in 20 years time. He claimed that by 2050, around 60% of the population would be unable to give blood, largely due to obesity related disorders.

Obviously, the factors that contribute to this trend are seen as complex. For kids, they involve social context, diet (der…), lack of exercise in the school curriculum, transport, leisure activities, and so on. For adults, you could take most of these factors and repeat them, plus add a few – worse diets, really sedentary lifestyles, role models, food labelling etc.

The government announcement earlier this year that, having considered this epidemic, it was looking at putting £372m into schemes to reduce the problem should be welcomed, and amongst the plans are schemes to reward overweight people for eating a healthier diet.

Now, there’s a danger that I might come across as a bit of a health militant here, but it just doesn’t seem right that people should get themselves unfit and overweight then be financially rewarded for any corrective measure. I understand that you have to make schemes work, and anything that works to curb this trend should be applauded, but it doesn’t fit with the lack of reward for not making yourself obese in the first place.

To this end, my friend Steve has (largely to his surprise) had a petition accepted on the 10 Downing St petition site. At the time of writing, he has a massive 8 signatures, but given that he’s only told half a dozen people, it’s a start at least. You can see it at http://petitions.number10.gov.uk/healthyrewards/I don’t think Steve has got anything particularly negative to say about the problem, just a view that a positive healthy approach from the start might be a good counter.

And, I know the causes might be complicated, but then so were the reasons that it was so hard to stop people smoking in the UK, and that seems to be going in the right direction. Sometimes simple messages (smoking will deliver to you a lingering and unpleasant death, make your breath stink and turn you infertile) are quite effective. So maybe “take more exercise and eat less” ought to be the mantra for the future.

PeoplePosted by kevin Wed, November 26, 2008 22:57:07

My morning run to work goes past three secondary schools. One is the comprehensive that my elder kids go to, the second is a private school for girls, and the third is a huge comprehensive that, until recently, was under special measures and which has made some pretty impressive strides to return to a standard that it enjoyed in the past. Such is the way of the education system, and maybe more of this another time.

The (quite) interesting thing about this route is the way in which the pupils interact as they go to school. I tend to overtake the first crowd of children as they gather a larger and larger numbers, the closer they get to their destination, which is either the school gates, a side alley for a quick fag, or the sweet shop. This is a particularly useful route as it allows me to catch up with my second son, and deliver him the games kit/lunch/coat/book/brain that he leaves in the house at least twice a week. And perhaps because I know some of the kids, I can normally rely on them saying hello if they see me, or commenting on my propensity for wearing either running tights (a source of no small embarrassment to all of my children) or shorts.

A similar reaction from the kids going to the other comprehensive, who I tend to meet, as it were, head on. They’ll say hello, move out of the way if they’re blocking the path, and the particularly cheeky ones will shout out helpful and motivating messages – ‘Nice Legs!’

However, I do get a bit stuck when I have to run past the private school. None of these kids, it seems, walk to school. Fair enough, because of its nature, you expect most of them to travel in, but moving along the pavement is a constant hassle as the big doors of the Chelsea Tractors open without warning, as cellos (why cellos?!) are lumped onto the pavement, and as the girls, four abreast across the pavement and studiously avoiding eye contact, force me to run into the road.

I explained this dilemma to my friend G, who knows about such things, last weekend. Why is it, I asked, that these girls are such snobs that they completely ignore the people around them, and isolate themselves so much from their environment? Aha, she said, it’s a bit simpler than that. Her belief is that the pupils at this school have a life that revolves around school itself, their families, and friends of their families. Everything outside this is another world, and the lack of eye contact signifies nervousness at contact beyond their world, rather than aloofness.

It’s a bit of a shame, as, if G is right, then I shall have to suspend my plans to re-listen to all those Crass albums (maybe not such a shame then) and think about the waste of putting kids into education at massive expense, for them to be so ill at ease with the world around them.