Fireworks, films and squirrels on jumpers: why autumn is underrated

Ever the pragmatist, Superman never tested his powers without a soft
landing spot.

Despite its crisp sunshine and colourful palette, autumn is the most overlooked and unloved of the seasons. Devoid of the excitement of winter, the freshness of spring and the anticipation of summer, it is often seen as the bringer of bad news, the party pooper who wants you to turn the music down, put on some clothes and get an early night. Contrary to its dowdy reputation, the underdog of the seasons actually has a lot to offer its ungrateful public.

Firstly, the fashion. We can finally pack away the shorts and spaghetti tops and breathe a sigh of relief as the woolly cardigans and enormous socks are brought blinking into the light of day. Pasty legs are once again ensconced in jeans, while toenails go triumphantly unpainted as sandals give way to well-insulated boots. Arriving after the sweaty fluster of summer and before the fuss of Christmas parties, autumn is the most forgiving of the seasons when it comes to beauty maintenance. Fake tan addicts can get out their snowy white sheets and razors remain tentatively on the side, while a relaxing ten minutes with a face and hair mask is the order of the quarter. If a stripped-back beauty regime is not enough to convince you, who can fail to love a season which practically demands the possession of an alarmingly large and obscenely cosy jumper, preferably emblazoned with some form of woodland creature? Ban the bikini and snuggle up in an appropriately garish knit.

If you’re looking for somewhere to work the wool, why not try the cinema? Although a darkened room may not seem like the best place to show off an outfit, there are so many gut-bustingly exciting movies on the horizon you won’t want to be anywhere else. So far this autumn we’ve lusted after Anna Karenina’s drool-worthy dresses (and leading man), whooped and wept over the superb Perks of Being a Wallflower, and tried very hard to pretend that Joseph Gordon-Levitt resembles Bruce Willis in sci-fi thriller Looper.

Fortunately for all popcorn manufacturers, this promising start looks set to continue well into November before the Christmas movies strike. Released on the 17^th October and featuring one of the most endearing animated dogs of all time (apologies to Gromit), Frankenweenie is Tim Burton’s affectionate tribute to classic monster movies. While it fails to deliver one major feature of a Burton movie (namely Johnny Depp), it retains the style and dark humour fans have come to expect. Another visually stunning recent release is On the Road, Walter Salles’ adaptation of Kerouac’s celebrated novel. Add to these the return of Daniel Craig’s brooding Bond in Skyfall and Paul Thomas Anderson’s highly anticipated The Master, and it becomes clear that there simply aren’t enough Orange Wednesdays in the months ahead.

It being autumn, it is entirely possible that you are reading this in the library of some form of educational institute, surrounded by a small fort of books and a moat of notes, and fuelled by coffee craftily smuggled past watchful librarians. Serving as a break between summer and winter, autumn can seem a lot like New Year. It is a time to take up yoga and vegetables, and drop chocolate cake and ice cream sundaes. After the long lazy days of summer, the intellectual stimulation afforded by school and Uni suddenly seems life-affirming and mind-blowing. You experience a sudden need for levels of organisation only achievable through the acquisition of numerous items of stationery. Hole-punches, staplers, cat-shaped highlighters and cake-shaped rubbers begin to accumulate on a desk already covered in complex-sounding books and Post-it notes as you hunt down the perfect note-storing system.

Autumn represents a chance to start again and make good on the promise of efficiency made in the queue at the Paperchase sale on the 1^st January. It should be seen as a golden time of academic delight and dedication soon to be destroyed by impending deadlines and dissertation woes. Take note and embrace this time of hitherto unseen productivity. Just expect to find said note several months later on the floor beside the earring you thought was gone forever and a disturbingly large ball of dust.

For any sceptics still out there, autumn offers two of the most enjoyable festivals of the year. Halloween is possibly the only excuse adults have to douse themselves in liberal quantities of fake blood, frighten small children and make elaborate sculptures out of pumpkins. Bonfire night also offers ample opportunities to have fun under the guise of responsibility and tradition. Any season which offers us the chance to create a fake man and set him alight, before sending rockets and other noisy, pretty things into the sky and ingesting dangerous amounts of toasted marshmallow can only be, in an overused word, awesome.

Despite these deeply rational arguments for the joyfulness inherent in autumn, there are the inevitable cynics out there. While they stubbornly clutch their Cornettos and shiver in their hot pants, may the rest of us pull on our boots, throw on our scarves and follow the yellow brick road laid at our feet in the form of the golden leaves of autumn.