Andy White, 27, is the leader of Glorious Undead, a Christian church group that meets in a hall in Belsize Park. Founded by members of the alternative rock scene - whether industrial, punk, hardcore, metal or rockabilly - they meet weekly to pray and sing alternative Christian songs together.

“It can be difficult being a Christian in London. The open mindedness is cool but London isn’t a very Christian city. In your day to day life, you do feel quite different. At work or in a club, the chances are that most people aren’t Christian.

“It’s not like living in Kentucky or somewhere where everybody’s Christian and knows where you’re coming from.

“London’s full of different ideas. That’s cool, but you do feel like a minority. It’s sometimes hard to lead a Christian lifestyle in London because of the way most people live.

“But it’s great having so many different faiths in London. I’ve got a lot of friends with different beliefs. I prefer that to having a Christian only city.

“Glorious Undead (GU) works in London because you’ve got so many different people into so many different things. People come to GU from all over the world - Norwegian, German, Japanese and American.

“People are always going to be more open-minded in big cities. If we tried to do GU in a tiny mining village with a population of 20 it probably wouldn’t go so well. London’s an open-minded city with different ideas and different people from different backgrounds.

“I was raised in a medium-sized town in the north west and really wanted to go to a big city. When I came to live in London, I‘d only been to London once for a weekend. I saw the Tower of London, the crown jewels. I thought they were pretty rubbish.

“Now I absolutely love it. I love that you can never know it all. In five and a half years, there are still loads of places I’ve never, ever been to.

“You find something new every couple of weeks - a new area or restaurant. You can just keep going. I’d much rather some unexplored bits rather than a place where you know every single venue and person.

“My favourite thing is the energy. Even though it’s all busy and all crazy, I’d much rather that than living in a small town and getting a seat on the bus every time.”

Yesterday I found a spare page in our beautiful magazine that was begging for an advert.

With only a day until the deadline, it seemed implausible to get a paid ad in time. But my feminine wiles didn’t feel up to the task.

Instead, the team decided it would be a lovely gesture to give the space away - free - to a deserving charity, generous souls that we are.

But I encountered a problem. The men at the charities didn’t fancy me at all.

My first target was Shelter, a London homeless charity, and a delightful young man told me that he wasn’t the right person to speak to. He’d get somebody to call me back. They never did.

If Shelter was a man, I would have cut my losses and moved on. But like a desperate, besotted teenager, I kept calling. I was fobbed off again. “I’m sorry, the person you need to speak to is on holiday, she won’t be back until next week. Nobody else here can make a decision.”

What decision? A decision about whether to take a free A4 ad in a nice shiny magazine? I can see the dilemma.

My heart goes out to the poor homeless people that have been done out of some much needed attention.

Next was Amnesty International, a human rights charity, who would surely embrace this marketing opportunity. Think again. It turns out I know less about charities than I know about men.

I know it was last minute, but it was disappointing. I hope the people of Islington who could’ve seen the ad already know about the victims of torture and wrongful imprisonment across the globe.

Before I gave up on charities entirely, lucky number three came along.

Survival, a charity in EC1 protecting tribal people worldwide, picked up the phone. I was told that the relevant person was in a meeting, but this time I wouldn’t take no for an answer.

Like a petulant child, I instructed the receptionist that if I didn’t hear back in an hour, I would offer the ad to someone else. So there.

In 45 minutes the phone rang.

A couple of hours later I had my advert. And it has breasts in it. It turns out tribal people do like to be advertised in magazines about alternative London.

And also that charities are like men - sometimes they just need to be told what to do.

Jenny Stocks talks Diet Coke adverts, chocolate digestives and naked men.

11.30… Diet Coke Break time.

Working on a magazine isn’t as glamorous and bitchy as Ugly Betty and The Devil Wears Prada suggests.

Today, I had an epiphany. This is not because we are working on a zero-budget student magazine. It is because we are not American. Obviously.

While we get excited about kettles and chocolate digestives, I have no doubt that across the pond, manicured magazine beauties are charging champagne lunches to “expenses” and having casual sex on the photocopier.

This difference was made clear today, when 11.30am brought some spice to our oppressive Mac office.

Girlish screams spread in a Mexican wave around the office when a naked man was spotted at the window of the building opposite.

Oblivious to our amusement, he carried on drying himself after his shower, leaving little to our sordid imaginations.

So was this man a Diet Coke advert Adonis? Not quite. He was a shaggy-haired, bearded young ruffian with a shadow of a beer belly.

It wasn’t a total loss - someone pointed out he had well defined hipbones.

But it got me thinking about us girls in our Mac room, and who we might prefer to be perving at through an open window.

Here are the top five US boys that could distract us from InDesign and HTML…

1. Wentworth Miller
With or without his Prison Break tattoos, nobody has ever made doing time look so attractive.

2. Jake Gyllenhaal
Gay cowboys. Troubled teenagers. Bald soldiers. Jake makes oddball look irresistible.

3. Justin Timberlake
Poor Britney - she has a Brummie paparazzo when she could have had sexy and sculpted JT. It’s enough to drive any girl crazy.

4. Jason Lewis
Those Aero adverts make a woman crave more than chocolate.

5. Brad Pitt
Enough said.

Well, a girl can dream, right?

Hidden in Covent Garden’s backstreets is a little chippy claiming to have been around since Queen Victoria was on the throne. Jenny Stocks visits to see why its customers are hooked.

The sign outside reads “established in 1874″, and the owner Hassan Ziyaeddin says they’re the oldest fish and chip restaurant and take away in London.

True or not, tourists and locals are easily reeled into the restaurant. The service is quick, the elbowroom minimal. And the white tiled walls are decorated with theatre posters and magazine articles about Ziyaeddin.

There are 27 seats upstairs, but the 36 downstairs is where it all happens. It’s a tackily decorated faux-underwater world, with turquoise walls and images of sea creatures adorning them. It’s unnerving experiencing the world of a fish while you eat one.

But while the décor veers from basic to over the top, the food is spot on. The fish is as fresh as daily delivered produce should be. The batter is crunchy, the chips are crispy and the tartare sauce is homemade and full of capers. Cod or haddock and chips come in at £10 or less (including tartare).

A pot of mushy peas from a tin, though, is £1.50. And if you don’t fancy eating in, it’s all available as a take away.

House wine is an impressive £8 and in the summer wooden tables are set up on the street outside and illuminated by fairy lights.

If it’s not the oldest chippy in London, it’s certainly one of the best.

The Rock & Sole Plaice
47 Endell St
Covent Garden
WC2H
020 7836 3785
Mon-Sat 11.30am-11pm
Sun 12-10pm