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The 'I' in iPod

It’s 08.36 heading westbound on the central line, and while I’m cocooned in the armpit of a rather portly middle-aged suit, the train stops in a tunnel to expose the clandestine musical influences of my fellow passengers. Eyes dart and ears prick. With no space to make the potentially grace-saving move of finding the volume switch, it soon becomes apparent as to which of these commuters is partial to a curry in front of x-factor and who will be slitting their wrists come home time.

The portly banker shifts, and as he turns his face to within inches of mine – his eyes filled with terror – I realise that Geri Halliwell’s cover of ‘It’s raining men’, is coming from his very headphones. I can see it in The London Paper now. ‘To the girl under my arm on the central line, I apologise for the unsociable use of the “shuffle” button. Maybe we could make sweet music sometime.’

This isn’t to say that I have the coolest collection myself. In fact the majority of my iPod is cluttered with a ludicrously high supply of musical theatre ensembles, and of my top 25 most played, there’s only nine that I will admit to. On closer inspection however, these top 25 ultimately create a fairly accurate portrait.

The airy folk songs of Belle and Sebastian sit in perfect juxtaposition with the intricate melodies of The Rolling Stones, while memories of desolate beaches flood through my veins as Jack Johnson strums his guitar. If a picture says a thousands words, then a song will be the harmony.

But in the dawning of a new age of applications, we’re unwillingly having our libraries pushed to anyone in a fifty-metre radius and the power of the playlist is quickly becoming an unfavourable tool that not only dictates our musical personalities, but can expose a lot more to potential acquaintances too. For example, on a calculated level, my library would paint me as a seasonally affected, itchy-footed theatre graduate. The accuracy is disturbing. But if you knew that the living Adonis from the fifth floor was in fact owner to the entire Elton John back-catalogue, how would you feel? There are no longer excuses for guilty pleasures and privacy is quickly becoming a nightmare of George Orwell’s - pushing the boundaries of technology to a new generation of undercover CD stashers.

It’s not that we find Elton John’s music unpleasant; it’s the fact that his popularity has become stationary in the changing face of the music industry. He’s lost the edge that everyone is striving to discover; the unknown band that will never have a number one, but will command the line-up of 2012’s boutique music festivals – much like the way fashion trends are being dictated for two years time. The Adonis has lost his mystery, and along with it, his magnetism.

Ultimately, the shape of current demographics are changing. We are no longer categorised by race, age or wealth but by the choices we make in restaurants, fashion and music. So as technology and advertising have evolved to better target these interests, we, in turn, have changed our perception of cool. Girl bands will always encourage young girls to wear make-up and whinge their way to theatre school, while Bono will relentlessly provide the soundtrack to embarrassing dad’s everywhere. Hence every song produces an essence; a target audience that it hopes to break so that when we hear it pounding from the headphones of a stranger, we can already determine their agenda. They’ve become artificial pheromones built on the physiological need to befriend those who most suit our tastes or status.

So to retain some dignity in this fickle society, playlists are made to create the illusion of cool. There’s no need for brandishing the skeletons that are hiding within that MP3 device if they are sectioned before they can escape. It is something to showcase your edginess and intrigue strangers when your foot starts tapping to an unknown beat. It’s the kind of impression that gives you that look of acceptance from the indie boy and his skinny jeans; an impression that, despite its pretentious connotations - we all rather like.

Miss conceptions at Miss Commonwealth

Preconceptions about the world of beauty pageants are something that have been installed into us, through the media, for a number of years. So when I was invited to the Miss Commonwealth International competition this October, I was intrigued to find out about this undercover world of not just beauty, but the characters that take part in such a niche industry of perfectly ­– if not surreally – turned out young women.

Representing the 53 countries in the British Commonwealth, some girls had flown from as far as Jamaica and Canada to compete in the event, having won prizes in their own countries that had lead them to great recognition within the industry – something that the girls strive for, far above the monetary rewards that they are often likely to win.

They believe that this recognition will help them towards the work they do with charities all over the globe. Tove Pearce, a 17 year-old English contender for the Miss Teen Commonwealth crown – and winner of Miss Teen Charity – was representing Great Ormond Street Hospital, and hoped that by winning a title, it would help to promote their work. In fact, it became clear that winning the ‘title’ was something that all the contestants I spoke to were certain would improve the publicity of their chosen aid organisation.

Jayne Taylor was competing for the Mrs Commonwealth title, and appeared to be quite a pageant veteran – having competed for 23 years and having gained a whole host of titles including Mrs Great Britain, Mrs England and Mrs United Kingdom. Despite her obvious achievements over the years, she clearly had the most refreshing approach to the competitions themselves – seeing them as a hobby, rather than a lifestyle – and keeps a regular job to fund the reality of having a family in the 21^st Century. Her four daughters also compete, and she was proud to comment on the travelling they’ve got to do whilst taking part in various competitions – being treated like royalty all the way.

First-time pageant competitor, Attika Choudhary was representing Pakistan in the main ‘Miss Commonwealth’ category – specifically for girls aged between 20 and 29. Her entrance into the competition was down to her talent agent, who, after noticing her interest in working with charities, recommended that she took part in the event – due to the recognition that a title could give her.

Four rounds of voting would determine the winners of each category, each displaying a different outfit including national costume, casual wear, sports wear and evening gowns. The girls were all glad to hear that the bikini round was taken out of this competition – clearly due to the variety of religious views that are held across the Commonwealth.

Ultimately, having the chance to take a peek into this heavily criticised industry was an eye-opener to what really goes on within it. All the girls I spoke to seemed very level-headed and keen to use their winning title as a stepping-stone to future plans. And whilst they were all keen to glam up under the guises of hair and make-up, it didn’t feel like this was to any further extent to any other girls their age. It wasn’t solely about looking pretty, or being part of a performance; it was more about gaining the recognition they felt was necessary to succeed in a future promoting world peace – the ultimate goal of the commonwealth committee.