London is so restless. I can't walk anywhere in the City without hearing the unfinished symphony of jackhammers and drills. Day in, day out. The noise is intense.

Buildings wrapped in death shrouds slowly being taken down brick by brick; new buildings going up on the footprints of former. Nip 'n' tuck work on others. There's a rolling cloud of dust and debris unfurling every day in the City.

Even the pavements are being unzipped; there's scarcely a street I walk on in the City that has n't been opened up by a pneumatic drill, it's innards dripping over the side of the trench.

What happened to the Bowler and the Pinstripe? Stuff of myth really; cheap shorthand, a lazy cliche, and, anyway, all of us who earn our coin in the City, aside from the Investment Bankers and Corporate lawyers, have done it for years sans ties and in chinos.

But it's men in hard hats and safety vests, mini diggers past the Bank of England, and cranes hoisting mysterious loads these days; they're forcing the pace. That's the spirit of the times now. I love it. We're getting the skyline we deserve - there's some clever, idiosyncratically designed skyscrapers slowly wending their way up. As far as I'm concerned, there's nothing as aspirational, nothing as replete with energy and hope, nothing to out-symbolise a modern 21st century city than a clutch of tall buildings. This city needs a signature skyline that's more than just the London Eye and St Paul's.