Before you beat us to death for suggesting the pulsing heart of Soho’s tourist monster as a slick London hangout, know that we just can’t argue the facts. We’re slaves to the truth. Servants of veracity. Would we don the garments of Sandqvist, Percival and Foot Patrol? We would! Eat at the altars of Red Dog Saloon, Ember Yard and Polpetto? Better believe it! Drink from the cup at Duck & Rice, make an offering to Sister Ray, and blush like choirboys through Walker’s Court/Porno Alley? Yes, dammit, yes!
This area isn’t throbbing with spend-a-day-on-the-beers booze dens. But that’s OK! With clothing masters lining the pavements – including Folk, Grenson, Universal Works, J. Crew and The Content Store – you’ll only have time for two pints before burning your credit card to ashes on garms, then running to your reservation at family-run Italian gem Ciao Bella. Explore wine bar Noble Rot too if you can beat the cashmered hordes who cut its glowing review out of the Sunday Times.
You’re going to need sharp elbows, deep pockets or a venom-spitting PA to get yourself a table at Chiltern Firehouse. When all that fails and some “actor and bad boi ;-)” from Love Island thieves the last one, we suggest hunting out the sandwiches at Nordic Bakery, then filling your drawers at must-hit style spots Sunspel and Hamilton & Hare. If the pain of losing out to that table-stealing bicep-kisser runs deep, hit the hard stuff at Cadenheads Whisky Shop, or bring the blood pressure down with a gin cocktail at Purl London. C’mon mate, he’s not worth it. Mate, leave it. Mate!
Here’s your spunky young upstart. Your wide-eyed, honey-scented golden child, yet to be corrupted by the corporate dollar. First, buy everything inside interiors shop Triangle and you’ll have the home of a hunky Scandinavian architect. Then load your fridge from flash supermarket Eat17, or energy-up at any one of the exciting indie eateries, including the Mediterranean mega portions from Pivaz, and Cooper & Wolf’s Nordic fare. A couple of boozes down the ol’ Adam & Eve, and that’s Chatsworth Road done.
SE10 seems like a trek, sure, but our golden shopping stroll clocks in at a measly 100m. Couple of strides, pal. Start your engine at menswear destination Meet Bernard, then head into the guts of Greenwich market for its street-food stalls. Next, nose around Flood Gallery for the alternative film posters your walls desperately need. Then rest up in The Admiral Duncan: an old-school blokey watering hole where no one needs to know you were once a satchel-owning mimsy.
The skinny-jeaned corpse of 2007 indie is risen and dragging its battered Converse to a venue near you