Eyes on the Highstreet
By Pascale Loftus
It’s no secret that Bristol loves an indie. From shops to cafés, restaurants to venues, one rarely hears of someone’s favourite bolthole being a Starbucks or a Côte. But, with Gregg’s inauguration on the Triangle, standing tall as a ‘recession indicator’ (aptly put by fellow Features Writer, Evie Andrews), and with Gail’s cafés popping up like cold sores across the centre, the precarious nature of independent business has never been more starkly apparent. Despite the defiant, if not rather lacklustre, graffiti scrawl of ‘SHOP LOCAL’ on the scaffolding facade of the Park Street Gails, one need only tilt one’s head towards Whiteladies to see how this scribbled sentiment is not, in fact, a particularly popular one.
The constant gaggle of customers unabashedly clutching their iced Matcha outside of the Clifton flagship acts as a frank reminder that we as Bristolians need to put our money where our mouth is. We may hold our ‘live, laugh, love local’ placards high, though have been decidedly apathetic towards the homogenisation of the highstreet, just as long as an oversized cinnamon bun is involved.
We weren’t always like this. Bristol’s proud history of fiercely protecting independent businesses most likely harkens much further back than the infamous Stokes Croft riots of 2011, though most view these protests as emblematic for the culture. We saw a community furiously resistant to the opening of a chain supermarket, acutely aware of the knock-on effects these would have on the independent local shops people had come to rely upon. The riots fell on the relatively deaf ears of a council blinded by bloodied Meal Deal money and the golden promise of gentrification. In allowing the supermarket (which will not be named, purely out of spite) not only to survive but to thrive, with little of the concessional restrictions promised to locals, the council turned its back on the community, clearly stating that their allegiance is to the Monopoly.
The newest hub for the Bristol food chain seems to be a bit closer to The Square Club’s home in the City Centre. The Clifton Triangle has always felt somewhat of a transient space to me. Shops and cafés come and go, sometimes leaving empty husks as monoliths to their demise (rest in peace Wilko, gone but impossible to forget). From January to April this year, the Centre of Retail research confirmed that 285 shops have gone bust, affecting over 3000 individuals. By March, Bristol had lost eight beloved independents including Bristol’s ‘oldest vintage’ institution, Uncle Sam’s on Park Street, which operated for over forty years.* So what’s left? Empty shells filled with discarded ephemera? A row of ‘TO LET’ signs and newspapered windows?
Where once, small businesses and pop-ups ruled the Bristol food scene, we’re now seeing real estate purchased by the only ones who can afford it – the chains. I’m talking Krispy Kreme popping up less than ten metres from independent donut slingers Pipp & Co, Gail’s planting itself obstinately opposite the coffee-loving-commuter’s favourite stall, Rocco, and Gregg’s and Black Sheep Coffee colonising the Triangle with affordable fare and decidedly off-putting atmospheres.
So where’s a morally superior food-snob supposed to eat? Are we willing to triple our sandwich spend to favour Little Bagel Co. over Greggs? And, most importantly, where’s the rage? Past generations proved they gave a shit, but few of us can claim the same. Maybe the Triangle is losing its edge… maybe we are softening with it. Or perhaps, we are all numb to the homogenisation of our surroundings in such a volatile time for businesses. Consumer ethics are, indeed, much harder to swallow than a pistachio croissant.
It’s not all doom, gloom and sourdough, though. Some immovable businesses remain stubborn in their locations, some even thriving in the pressure pot of competition. Little Bagel Co. for example, opened a mere three years ago and has now expanded across the city after roaring success, despite being sandwiched between chains. It’s also a comfort to know that we may see a thousand more iterations of the hipster coffee shop come and go, but Jason Donervan is forever; I don’t make the rules.
Despite these success stories, the need to adapt, reconfigure and fight for your business has never been more apparent. One particularly bitter pill to swallow was my personal favourite and past Squarely featurette, NotFoundKitchen being forced to close as a café. Forced to lean solely on their wholesale business, 404 Bakes, the team sadly had to close their doors to the public early this year. They still use the space, and regulars can delight in the fact that the resident pooch, Rhubarb can still be seen gazing out through the front door. The obstinate erection of Gail’s over the road, in place of the late Little Dobbies, came shortly following the cafés part-closure which was, frankly, enough to radicalise me. There’s no greater satisfaction for the indie snob than breezing past a sea of wide-eyed patrons, with nose upturned and chin held high, on your way to reward your moral superiority with a coffee from Bakesmiths or Oddshop. Not that anyone cares, of course. Still, everything tastes sweeter from the higher ground.
So, the indie scene might be bruised, but it’s not broken. As long as we still have a choice between Rocco and a Gail’s flat white, it’s on us to vote with our wallets. Bristol has always been a city of defiance and maybe it’s time to remember that. In the meantime, pour out some Matcha for indies loved and lost, and raise a steak bake to their memory. The Triangle might be dying, but at least we’re caffeinated.
*‘8 beloved Bristol venues we’ve sadly lost for good in 2025 so far – and 5 more closing soon’, Adriana Amor for Bristol World (12.03.2025) https://www.bristolworld.com/business/consumer/bristol-venues-lost-2025-5029522
