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I get loads of magazines for free, so there’s only one that I

actually buy on the rare occasions that it doesn’t come through my

letterbox. It’s Time Out, which bills itself as London’s Living

Guide.

I’d be surprised if many individuals read all of it, as the editorial

range is necessarily diverse to accommodate Londoners’ many

passions.

This week we have everything from Boyzone to Jackson Pollock.

It’s one of those publications that one frequently doesn’t agree with,

but still finds compelling reading. The Sidelines column prints rude and

scurrilous stories that are effective for puncturing various celebrity

egos, and the letters page is a pretentious mini war zone, with

inflammatory contributions from the staff.

As an advertising proposition its widely varying sections can be used to

reach very different audiences, from hardcore clubbers to

bookish-types.

The presence of enduringly fashionable products, such as Absolut Vodka,

demonstrate that the readers and the environment are desirable.

It’s nice to see this has been achieved despite the editorial team

slowly broadening the Time Out brand’s appeal so that Hoxton Square is

no longer the centre of its universe; a welcome development.