I shall now do my local borough a great service

Camden.

London is split into boroughs and Camden is mine (not just mine, I think there must be nearly a million of us) though only just: if I crossed the fabulously-named Shoot-Up Hill, I would be in Brent. Imagine that.

Camden has a big campaign, Love Camden. I think it's for the council's self-esteem, though maybe they do it for the tourists too. The first place you might see the campaign is in the groovy banners hanging from streetlamps in all of Camden's high streets. I recall that when Kilburn's banners first arrived it was at the nadir of the credit crunch and, amid the debris of a mile of empty bankrupt Pound Saver shops, there bloomed a flurry of groovy banners.

Funny, I thought.
Who are those meant for? I thought.
Not me, naturellement (I thought, for I was still conversing with I like a RastafarI).

For as a Londoner the big issue is to remember that we are all strangers and must never acknowledge the presence of the Other Londoner. Now that's another matter...

... But it turns out I've been hooked in by the Council. Their brainwashing has worked. Not only do I love Camden (lets not define 'love' Prince Charles-styley right now), I love the campaign to love it. They've got a very groovy website. Perhaps they've implanted the word groovy in my brain. Ha! PROPAGANDA...

The campaign draws attention to Camden's many shops, local and quirky, which are so much more interesting than the generic chain-stores killing the lifeblood of ye olde high street. In West Hampstead, for instance, there is a new and ghastly TESCO Metro doing its damndest to lower the tone. All is not lost, however. West Hampstead, or Wampstead as it shall be known henceforth, is still the No. 1 destination for dignified charity shopping.

The other day I bought two pairs (one magenta, one grey) of leopard-print trousers. In Cancer Research. In Wampstead. Groovy indeed.