I know, I know, I’ve been extremely MIA from this weird corner of the internet. It’s a long story that involves me finishing my dissertation the day before it was due, long summer days drunk on sun and tequila, interviewing and then being crushingly rejected from several jobs before landing my dream job, falling in love (read: lust) a thousand times on Bumble, and falling even more in love with the city of London.
Pinky swear I’ll catch you up on these chattier (aka dramatic) topics at a later date when I’m feeling a bit more poetic, but in the meantime I thought I’d woo you back with one of my new favourite places (and best spots to photograph) in London. This weekend my friend Jordan and I made a pilgrimage to an effortlessly cool, Instagram haven of neon perfection in….Walthamstow. For those of you unfamiliar with London, Walthamstow is literally east of Jesus waaayyy out in suburbia. After going to the end of the Victoria line, then taking a bus, then meandering around a cute village that felt entirely out of London, we finally found our fluorescent junkyard, God’s Own Junkyard, that is.
Eyes glued to my Google Maps app, I at first led Jordan astray and past our destination, but finally we entered our Mecca and boy was it worth it.
After a long trek with too little caffeine, I was convinced the shop would leave me disappointed. The candy-hued bonanza exceeded expectations, however, and I highly recommend you head there ASAP if you’re in need of inspiration. It inspired me to blog again, which is no small feat.
You can commission them to create a neon artwork for you, or just endlessly browse like we did. Luckily, they’re very welcoming to tourists, so you won’t feel guilty for taking photos and taking in the seductive glow. There’s also a cafe, so pull up a coffee (not too overpriced all things considered) or Coca Cola and embrace the cavalcade of color.
The kitschy, sometimes very sassy or raunchy, signs are perfect for a photo op. I call this one “me facing a Monday.” Cheeky.
Snag a spot on one of the couches and get a bit vibey.
Or take photos of your photogenic friends.
I honestly could have spent all day here, and surprisingly can’t wait to go back to Walthamstow to spend more time finessing my neon photography skills.
Newly convinced that everyone looks better in a pink glow.
Pretending I’m Scarlett in Lost in Translation.
No, no I’m not.
Next time you’re in London I highly recommend making the trek to the dreamy junkyard. If you’re staying central, the commute isn’t too bad on the northbound Victoria line. No cameras allowed, but you can use a phone camera, so snap away. It’s a photographer’s dream and hasn’t yet been overrun by every basic betch looking for the perfect Instagram (I’m looking at your, Sketch).
Bring the Junkyard Home: