In-Bread Locals

Cultural Nimbyism in East London.

My nan, who lived very near us, as was the way back then, used to drag me down ‘the village’ whenever she went shopping.

This never ending excursion would involve a three hour (or so it seemed) chat among the piled high spuds, carrots and ‘greens’ in Nancy Bundick’s, the greengrocer. A stop off for mince at Tom the butcher’s, where I’d be told not to play with the irresistible sawdust floor. And a visit to a weird shop where a nice lady used a futuristic steel machine to slice bits off a breaded ham.

Once, when we had to venture to the next town over for something exotic, like maybe an orange, Tom (yes a different one) the milkman took pity on us waiting forlornly at the bus stop, and whizzed us all the way there, at a steady 4mph, on his milkfloat.

In those days supermarkets were mainly massive, out of town affairs, visited only sparingly. My dad used to drive us out to ASDA at Pitsea, every couple of weeks for a ‘big shop’.

Then the supermarkets realised that there was money to made from downsizing.

And they started opening mini versions of their out of town stores on ever smaller high streets up and down the country.

The reaction from the locals was often the same.

‘We dont want Tescos here!!’ ‘Say no to Safeway!!’

Thundered the residents of many a self contained little, town.

‘‘We’ve already got all the shops we need!’

‘YOU can do what you like. It’s a free country,’ they insisted,

(Yes this was a long time ago, when people still used to say that. And mean it),

‘But you won’t catch ME in there’.

But of course once the shiny new Tescos had opened, you DID catch them in there. Skulking sheepishly in the aisles with their overflowing basket, claiming they had ‘just popped in for bread because the baker’s closed.’

It wasn’t long before the supermarket and its virus of low prices, convenient opening hours, quality merchandise, good service, and huge range of products, had infected every high street.

And pretty soon there was nothing else left. Just the bookies. A chemist, maybe a chippy, and a parade of charity shops. The largest local store front on my home town high street these days is the funeral directors. It kind of says it all.

I was reminded of this inevitable turn of events when I read a story in the Telegraph about how the vocally middle class residents of newly fashionable Walthamstow, East London, have banded together to say no to ‘upmarket’ bakery chain Gails.

I didn’t think anyone else would have noticed this little story but it seems to have hit quite the nerve, with lots of my favourite writers finding something to say about it. So if you’re already sick of hearing about the Sourdough Wars then apologies. But I think there’s a lot to unpick here, so here goes.

Most recently of course Walthamstow has been best known for the way it proved itself ‘the little town that could’, by standing up to aggression, intimidation, and Nazism during the recent outbreak of rioting and disorder.

With Labour councillor Ricky Jones suggesting slitting the throat of anyone threatening violence.

Now that ladies and gentlemen, is what I call a ‘Community Leader’.

Of course before the unfortunate *raffishly slices neck with finger* incident. East 17 was best known for East 17, the early 90s pop group fronted by local Brian Harvey, which was named after the area postcode.

East 17 had a few hits, but Brian will always be most famous, to me and my friends at least, for being one of the few men who has ever managed to run himself over, in his own driveway.

It’s a near tragic story involving hubris, mayonnaise and a baked potato, and is not at all amusing. I link to it here only so you can see for yourself. Just how funny it isn’t.

Nowadays of course Walthamstow is one of London’s trendiest enclaves. It’s Crouch End for people who could never dream of affording a home in Crouch End. A sort of Stoke Newington for the masses.

And it’s clear that the good people of Walthamstow have strong feelings about Gail’s. Apparently there’s a unstoppable groundswell of opposition with

‘More than 300 people…signing a petition which aims to “safeguard the soul of our beloved neighbourhood”.

So. Not that many people.

The population of Walthamstow is currently around 300, 000.

300 people represents 0.001%, or what psephologists call ‘hardly any’.

But when has the fact that there are only a vanishingly small number of them ever bothered the progressives? Or prevented the whinging middle classes from imposing their opinions and values on the rest of us?

For instance hardly anyone believes that men beating up women should be an Olympic sport.

And few polls reveal a preference among Brits that their public services should be available free of charge to anyone from anywhere in the entire world, who fancies making the trip here in a canoe. (Hate Crime Infraction #1 Logged And Recorded)

And believe it not, most voters aren’t super keen that we should bankrupt our entire economy on the strength of an apocalyptic fever dream Ed Miliband once had after over eagerly smoking a menthol cigarette.

And yet here we are.

So what exactly are the good people of Walthamstow objecting to?

Well, let’s take a look.

Firstly the petition warns that Gail’s could potentially overshadow local shops with its

‘massive scale and advertising reach’

Ok. Now I get it. The moaners are complaining that Gail’s is one of those insidious companies which gets to use that ‘special advertising’, the sort that only those companies which sanctimonious leftists dislike, seem to have access to.

You know what I mean. The uniquely super powered, irresistible, advertising that ‘bad’ companies use to ‘brainwash’ fools into making poor personal choices that proper, sensible people, the sort who live in Walthamstow for instance, would never normally make.

Like Two for One Offers which trick and bamboozle the foolhardy lower orders into getting fat.

Or worse, the sort of deceitful advertising that is so mesmerising to weak and vulnerable minds, that you only need to put it on the side of a bus one single time for the husk headed proles to be tricked into throwing themselves, lemming like, off the side of the EU.

The claim is that it’s easy to gull the weak minded into handing over their hard earned cash with little more than a cleverly placed advert.

I remain unconvinced.

Another area of concern is ‘gentrification’. Which, from what I can see is just a posh word meaning ‘de-shitty-fying ’.

It seems the petitioners, some of who I understand can trace back their family’s roots in the area back as far as 2016, or even 2014, are worried that Walthamstow is in danger of losing a hold on its unique heritage.

But don’t roll your eyes, that’s not just prejudice and snobbery talking. That’s prejudice and snobbery backed up by the prejudice and snobbery of elite left wing  ‘experts’.

According to the Telegraph,

‘The Runnymede Trust and the Centre for Labour and Social Studies said Walthamstow Central had “severely gentrified” since 2010’.

‘Severely gentrified?’ That’s like saying the area has become ‘horribly nicer’. ‘Awfully improved’. ‘Hideously lovelier’.

Yuk. Sounds terrible.

This attitude seems weird to me. Regenerating an area to the point where it attracts big companies, outside money, and new young families is surely progress. And I thought these people prided themselves on being ‘progressive’.

And sure there is an argument about local people no longer being able to afford to live in their own area. I absolutely get it. But what’s the alternative? Never looking to improve, never to regenerate, reinvigorate or renew? That’s just a recipe for stasis and sclerosis. If that’s what we want we might as well be Amish. Or the Welsh.

Plus with a little thought all this development can be managed, imperfectly yes, but at least on some level. My own area has been regenerated over the last ten years or so. The number of posh cafes and restaurants has grown exponentially sure, but so has the amount of social housing.

So like everything, it’s a trade off.

Something else the East London locals are supposedly objecting to, are Gail’s ‘extortionate’ prices.

And sure, Gail’s coffee isn’t cheap, and their mouth-wateringly delicious sourdough does come at eye-wateringly expensive prices.

But what’s the problem? Retailers have been overcharging the middle classes for years. That’s why we have Waitrose.

(Satire btw. Please don‘t sue me Waitrose)

It seems that Walthamstow’s pinch faced curmudgeons have also got it in for Luke Johnson. He’s a major investor in Gail’s and the brilliant entrepreneur who over the years has been behind such casual dining brands as Patisserie Valerie, Belgos, Giraffe, Strada and Pizza Express.

Fine, they might not be to your taste.

Any restuarant which hands out crayons with the menu is an instant Red Flag for me these days.

But it’s not so much Luke Johnson’s restaurants that the Walthamstow Massive find offensive, it’s his pro Brexit, anti-lockdown, climate realist, opinions.

The Telegraph article, on which I have based this entire, poorly researched post, explains how

‘a barista at an independent coffee shop, said ‘We’ve just had this big, diverse counter-protest to protect Walthamstow from the far-Right and I doubt Luke Johnson would support that.’

The thoughtful and tolerant cafe worker went on

“He is very different to the people here. His views are not the same.”

Different? Not same? Hang on. I thought you guys loved ‘diversity’. It’s your strength remember.

Ultimately though, this is not about gentrification, pricing or even Luke Johnson. You get the sense that the virtue signallers of Walthamstow object to Gail’s because, unaccountably, they consider a shop selling coffee for £3.60 a pop, as somehow beneath them.

These people are pure snobs. 21st century Margo Leadbetters. But with a keffiyeh and a nasty sneer, instead of a chiffon headscarf, and a saucy side eye.

They don’t want to buy their oat milk flat white from a chain of shops, not when they consider themselves truly authentic, genuine, and artisan.

All because they once bought a garden bench made of ‘driftwood’ (actually a stolen railway sleeper) from a farmer’s market, and now it’s gone to their head.

It’s tragic.

Look, this is a nonsense silly season story of no real import. But I chose to write about it for a couple of reasons.

Firstly. It makes a fun change from the grimness of the last two weeks. And secondly. I think it perfectly encapsulates the sanctimonious superiority of the ever scolding Professional Managerial Class.

For these people it is not enough to dislike or avoid something.

Their attitude is simply, I don’t like it, so you can’t have it.

Anything which does not pass their rigorous moral test, or conform to their punishingly high, but ultimately arbitrary, and self serving, ethical standards, whether it’s a newspaper, TV channel, bank, comedian, writer, book, historian, song, politician, movie, artwork, statue, lecture, play, idea, or even bakery, must be halted, cancelled, and banned.

A petition must be started. A boycott organised. A banner painted. A trigger warning issued.

And if you won’t take their advice, bow to their will, or refuse to accept their world view, then tough luck prole, they will impose it upon you anyway.

These are the people who are forcing pronouns onto our emails, black squares on our Instagram, and heat pumps into our houses.

Imagine the narcissism, the self regard, and the arrogance that comes with assuming you have the right to dictate how other people should live, right down to deciding exactly where your neighbours should be allowed to buy their bread.

But look, maybe I’ve got the wrong end of this silly season story.

Maybe the good people of Walthamstow simply want to preserve their traditions and way of life. Without new people, ideas and values being imposed upon them.

Surely most of us can understand and sympathise with that.

But don’t be fooled, this isn’t conservatism. It is Cultural Nimbyism.

The progressive elites who make up the PMC will gleefully rip up your way of life, trample over your past, decimate your communities.

Fill your streets, hotels, and houses, at your own expense, with people who openly despise you, your country, and your values. (Hate Crime Infraction #2 Logged And Recorded)

They will expose your children to creepy sexual practices in the name of tolerance and pride. (And there’s #3)

And condemn you as self centred and greedy, even as they leech every last penny from your wages to flitter away on their own fads, vanity projects, and boondoggles.

But if you dare so much as consider opening a bun shop they don’t like, on their turf, then all hell lets loose.

During the recent riots, anarchy and disorder, the fine residents of Walthamstow stood firm and resolute against the fascists.

But it looks like they might have been too late. The fascists have already moved in.

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Thanks for reading Low Status Opinions and greeting to anyone from East 17!

Look, obviously I don’t think everyone in Walthamstow is a fascist. As I say in the article only a few hundred locals have signed that petition.

I’m sure East 17 is a perfectly pleasant place full of perfectly pleasant people.

But this story is full of metaphors for the entitled attitudes and prejudices of the PMC. And it struck a nerve with me.

So if you feel the need to write a comment about how brilliant it actually is over there. Save yourself the bother. I’ll take your word for it.

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All the best

LSO