An ode to Spoons: Wetherspoons Bingo

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Spoons isn't just an establishment synonymous with cheap booze and an audaciously long menu- it is an institution. Wetherspoons is the great British equaliser. The British boozer that is fun for all the family, welcoming pre-borns, new borns, baby re-borns, teens, Millennials, mid-life crisis dons, pensioners, and all those in between with open arms. 

It's cheap, cheerful (in a butter-face kinda way) and by God is she comforting. There's something in the familiarity of the extensive yet consistent drinks list, the budget prices and funny knock-off alcohol brand names, right down to the carbon copied, archetypal personalities that inhabit every Spoons across the cuntry, no matter the postcode. Everyone has their favourite Spoons, and locals will claim that theirs is the best- but they're all cut from the same cloth. I've acquired a tic that sees me point and exclaim 'aw it's a Spoons' everytime I walk past one. Real recognises real and the heart wants wot the heart wants.. And what it wants is a Strikabomb followed by the 3 for £12 small plates, followed by greasy fingers, followed by a Poretti. I'm just a fifty-year old bloke in a 23 year old's bod.

THIS Corky's propaganda
was taken in V-Shed, Bristol's finest establishment

Spoons plays a big role in British culture. It IS British culture: selective multiculturalism (because Spoons Tuesday curry club is safe, but serving EU-sourced alcohol is tooo much of a cultural exchange!!), lone men day-drink as an act of patriotism, and when brought together inside those 4 sticky walls, even the coldest of Brits defrost and are up for nattering with a stranger. Plus, the booze is cheap as tits!! It's pub culture yassified. No matter what corner of the UK you're in, when you're in Spoons, you know you're in safe hands- they don't have Ask for Angela posters plastered on the bathroom walls for nuffin!!!! xxxx

My first taste of the high life began in the Putney Spoons, The Rocket and it tasted like the dishwater-brown notes of Green King Abbot Ale. I was 18 and dizzied by the novelty of it all- this unassuming green, bitta-plastic ID card opened doors to a world of possibilities, incited by the purchase of my first legal pint. The cost? £1.29 The product? My debut into adulthood. Spoons is there for you when the Fullers pubs are full and Youngs is ageist. Spoons will have ya gladly, get in. Milestone life events? Birthday? Bought a good top on Vinted? Degraded yourself for an ex? Celebrate it in Spoons. Mental breakdown? Spoons. Post-work slosh up? Spoon it in my gob. Multi-faceted till its dying day.

Three girls in spoons, colourised, 2023 

And even if Angela is being asked for one too many times (which when in Spoons, it's highly likely), you know the people watching will provide the most impeccable in-house entertainment. Spoons (which are typically huge gapping rooms with sticky carpets and gauche lampshades) are bursting with lone drinkers, stag dos, sloshed up mums and doe-eyed tourists from dawn 2 dusk. It's the filthy-rich tapestry of Bri'ish society. Fill your boots with a plate of chunky chips, an ambiguous slab of meat, poppadums' and a pint for the price of less than a meal deal, and take a front row seat as you watch life unfold. You could spend a full day in Spoons without anyone blinking an eyelid or making you feel as though you've overstayed your welcome. As Molleh-Mae said, we do all have the same 24 hours guys.... so let's just spend them sat in Spoons. Come on Bam Bam. Whether you're feeling voyeuristic, or you want to throw yourself into the socialite opportunities, and get involved in the action, Spoons are gapping vats of anonymity, drizzled with possibility. 

the people's prinny xx 

For us veterans of the best Spoons on the planet, (Hammersmith's William Morris), a trip to WillMo could end in multiple possibilities: a quick in-n-out pint, ending up peeling your shoes from the sticky Belushi's dancefloor next door, a chat with the local crooner, an extensive family reunion, or finding yourself posting your table number on your Snapchat story, receiving shit-mix orders to your table and then trotting off to an afters in a semi-detached in Barons Court. The paths are endless, but there's one thing guaranteed: it starts at Spoons.

If I ever had the pleasure of starring on '60 Minute Makeover', I would ask for THIS palace to be the blueprint.

Thanks to the Wetherspoon franchise's generous helpings of so much visual stimuli and entertaining scenes, my pal and I decided to milk it. We did what all greats do after lacing our throats with 3 Bells and Diet Cokes, and turned Spoons culture into a drinking game. A poor man's Spoons Bingo, if you will. And will you? You probs should.. 

Let's play Spoons Bingo:

The rules are extensive. Drink for everything you encounter on the list. Personalise her, make her your own. And most crucially, it's not about what Spoons can do for you, but what you can do for Spoons. 

Ultimate Spoons Bingo 

• A regular is at the bar

At WillMo, our go-to regular is an old fella whom we call 'Lips'. He has the biggest lips in Britain and its all his own work

• Get chatted up by someone 40+

You'll know it's happening because they've been looking at your table for the last 5-10 minutes

• Bump into a primary school classmate 

The novelty wears off very quickly after the initial thrill of seeing someone who was 3 apples high when you last saw them goes. You'll spend the next two hours trying to avoid eye contact.

• Bartenders are 2 busy flirting to take your order

It's like Primark staff flirting but more aggressive

• Someone’s reading the Spoons magazine like its hard hitting news

Carrie Bradshaw would rather buy the Spoons News mag over dinner, because it feeds her more x

• Tourist tries to order via table service 

They're confused, gormless but they're getting the full British experience.

• Spoons Roulette gets played

The staff must be SICK to the back teef of delivering their fifth tray of a glass of milk, a shot of tequila rose and one singular egg of the night and still pretending its funny

• Bells gets sold out

I swear the minute I told people that Bells is the cheapest liquor, it started becoming sold out. Let's gatekeep Britain's worst-kept secret.

• Approached in smokers 

For a light, a chirpse, some spare change- anything goes in the smokers pits of hell

• Compliment from a girl in the bathroom  

Thank you diva, but its the Stella talking

• Girl crying in the toilet

The point remains.. its the Stella talking.

• +1 point if a gaggle of girls ascend to console her and tell her she's beautiful 

I heart feminism.

• Vape cloud coming out of a toilet cubicle

Nothing says Spoons couture like hot boxing the cubicle with triple razmadaz melon. I would bet my bottom dollar, there will be Adidas sambas, dolly pumps or cowboy boots sticking out from under the door.

• Sit on the chosen table #bestseatinthehouse

The stage, or the booth ONLY, with the panopticon view. I will not be silenced to sit in the cheapseats by the fire exit.

• Find a Lost Mary and play TEN inside

She was lost, but now she is found. (if you have never played TEN, the rules kinda do what it says on the tin).

• See a shared mutual

Because where else will worlds collide but Spoons!?

• Strika Bombs

Sickened but I shall not grace my lips  with the alternatives- skittle bombs or fireballz. Ughhhhh.

• Someone buys you a drink

Admittedly, would hit more in a pub where it costs an arm and your third leg for a drink but I'll take it!!

• Panic searching ‘clubs open near me’

Remember that Strika Bomb from a few mins ago.. blame her.

• Panic booking Uber to the ‘club near me’

Won't waste a minute of drunkenness on 7 night buses thank you xxx

• Intense Eye contact with someone

A look of fear, love, lust? All three.

• See someone getting kicked out

If its not debauchery, its not Spoons!!!

• Lone drinkers strike up convo with each other <3

Spoons, bringing people together since 1979. 

Love u spoons!!!  u  r my dream girl

Nostalgia: exploring the mini heartbreaks that follow a breakup

Chronic nostalgia, and its role in the fallout of heartbreak.

As far as incredibly sentimental creatures go, human beings are pretty high up there. 

We are a chronically sentimental race. If you slice us open, we bleed nostalgia and melancholy (followed by a cloud of semi-crystallised triple melon vape smoke). The state of the human condition is deeply nostalgic; an (un)fortunate side-effect of exposing oneself to love and loss. 

I'm so chronically nostalgic that whenever I bite into a jellybean, I start mourning my childhood because the taste reminds me of the jellybeans included in a 2008 Puppy in my Pocket blind bag.ifykyk

And what's nostalgia's favourite coattails to ride on? Heartbreak. Even our earliest ancestors would've experienced a sense of heartbreak, given that social bonds were fostered as a means of survival. Thus, losing these bonds would cause disruption and heartbreak served as a mechanism to strengthen relationships (Moser, 2023). And as humanity progressed, as did heartbreak and the meanings we attach to it.

The mess that we call dating, in 2025:

As modernity continues to evolve, as does love and heartbreak. We are a generation both doomed and determined by dating apps, disillusioned by the grey areas of situationships and talking stages and constantly juggling the ever-changing sexual politics of today. These perils that mark 2025's dating landscape are driven by 'me culture' (Ashley, 2024) where love-seekers are encouraged to date with a vengeance, dropping and blocking anyone who doesn't maximise our romantic potential, before quickly moving onto the next. Whilst the millennium promised an exciting new future of hope and possibility, we pine for the ‘good old days’ more than ever, as we romanticise the old-fashioned ways of dating that our parents and grandparents enjoyed. 

On the other side of the coin, there are those of us who still pin our hopes on modern romance. These are the sillies of us who create internal mental scripts of future dates based on one or two (very mid) Hinge chats. Or those of us who after two years of being ghosted, still pine over that one situationship and fantasise about shacking up together in an E1 postcode.

And worse of all, there are those of us who have actually braved a relationship... and consequentially suffered the fallout. We mope and mourn a love lost, feasting on the only piece of the relationship that we have left: memories and nostalgia.

The gilet-donning brains and Brians of Capitalism have monetised our heartbreak. We nurture this booming industry by buying into breakup self-help manuals, life coaches (Standley Allard, 2025) 'revenge body' workout plans, which are up-sold by the 'get under someone to get over someone' promise of dating apps. The breakup industry capitalizes upon the promise that, as soon as the breakup is 'solved', you are the curated, maximised, ultimate, money can't buy product. 

Respectfully, I just don't think these little divas can coach me into winning the breakup xx

Micro-nostalgias and the mundane reminders:

The aforementioned sells us a dream that sounds great, but the reality is a little different. Yes, you might have blocked the ex, adopted a life coach and undertaken a fitness regime that would make Dr Christian from Channel 4's Supersize vs Superskinny proud, but these solutions fail to target the true demon of the breakup... The insidious, little splinters that remain untouched and exposed in the broad daylight of day. The everyday mundane things, splintering into micro aggressions that serve to remind you of your broken heart. It might not be your ex themselves, but its everything that was once attached to them. The songs you listened to together, your comfort TV show, the country of your fist holiday together. After all, when you commit to sharing a life with someone you don't just co-exist as two separate entities but share all the titbits in-between: the places, the songs, the friends... the memories.

It can drive you insane trying to avoid everything that instantly transports you back in time; both to the good and the bad times. My mum still can't listen to 10CC's I'm Not in Love, without talking about her devilish Italian ex. Arrivederci babes. Even ar' Chappell Roan is a victim of these micro-nostalgias. In her new song The Subway she sings, 'A few weeks later, somebody wore your perfume, it almost killed me, I had to leave the room'; a relatable lyric about the overwhelming emotional response that arises after smelling a scent that reminds you of someone you once loved.

Nostalgia is a psychological phenomenon used to create emotional buffers against trauma and unpleasant feelings (Mars, 2024). Perhaps this is why post breakup, we become astutely aware of all the small thing that reminds us of an ex. And when you reflect on these things, they can be so subtle and honestly, pathetic- whether its a piece of lettuce dangling from someone's sandwich (the only vegetable he would eat <3) or that one horror-show David Guetta song (played when we both threw up on our first night out together). 

Nostalgia and its rose-tinted clout goggles:

Nostalgia becomes a twisted comfort blanket, making it easier to cope as we grip onto comforting memories. Whilst they can offer fleeting comfort, they can also lead to a slippery slope of reminiscing that leads to sadness and grief (Raypole, 2021). Because of this, we can be tempted to avoid any exposure to the myriad of nostalgic reminders. It's unfair. Not only are we meant to navigate and cope with an earth-shattering heartbreak, but it also prohibits us from indulging in some of our favourite things, simply because it was once shared with someone who now, you would would really rather not think about...

Nostalgia is also DRENCHED in selective memory. Yes, maybe a certain pub reminds you of happier times shared together, but I bet you don't ruminate on the other pub next door, where several nights ended in rabid arguments, and hostile walks back home... Nostalgia is our way of cherry-picking all the good memories and throwing them into romanticised montages, whilst the other bits are discarded to the cutting floor. Because, cathartic and emosh as nostalgic deep-dives can be, they are often viewed through rose tinted spectacles. 

Nostalgia reminds us of the lives we have lived, and those yet to come...

The reality is that these splinters (i.e, the songs and artists, foods, places, perfumes) may remain your favourites, but your relationship with them will change. It's rubbish...until its ok. Overtime, your nostalgia response will likely evolve, and these splinters become markers of the new chapters of your life.  You'll hear a song that once was removed from all playlists, and realise that you can listen to it without inducing a small breakdown. These moments allow us to reflect on how much we've grown, whilst simultaneously rejoicing that we are not in the same place as we once were.

At some point (and a lot of healing time), we might see that these micro-nostalgias symbolise new corners of the world and experiences that you have unlocked; a sort of parting gift from your relationship. Imagine going through life, utilizing all five senses: you smell all the scents, you hear all the songs, you see all the sights, taste all the flavours and hear every sound, but they all just blend into one. Imagine that the culmination of all your lived experiences were to never spark a emotional response. Imagine a life where every song sounds the same, and every meal remains bland. How dull. Emotion, and nostalgia-responses are there to remind us that we are alive. They remind us of all the stories that we collate along the way. They remind us that we have lived and we have loved.

Once we embrace the fact that accepting love means risking loss, only then are we able to fully start living.

Deep innit! Nostalgia doesn't have to be a demon robbing you of happiness, but another notch added to the belt worn by someone who has lived a colourful life, well-lived.

Echo by Christina Rosetti, 1862

                Come in the speaking silence of a dream;
Come with soft rounded cheeks and eyes as bright
                As sunlight on a stream;
                Come back in tears,
O memory, hope, love of finished years.

References used:

Key Moser (2023) The Evolution of Heartbreak: From Ancient Defense to Modern Healing https://medium.com/@akr225a24/the-evolution-of-heartbreak-from-ancient-defense-to-modern-healing-bf4ffb91a17d 

• Crystal Raypole (2021) Those Happy Golden Years: Coping with Memories That Bring More Pain Than Peace: 

https://www.healthline.com/health/depression/nostalgic-depression  

• Emily Standley Allard (2025) The Business of Breaking Up: How Heartbreak Is Fueling a Booming Industry:

https://www.msn.com/en-us/lifestyle/lifestyle-buzz/the-business-of-breaking-up-how-heartbreak-is-fueling-a-booming-industry/ar-AA1vydzB

• Elena Mars (2024) Why Do We Feel Nostalgia? Exploring the Emotional and Cognitive Mechanisms Behind Nostalgic Feelings:

https://scientificorigin.com/why-do-we-feel-nostalgia-exploring-the-emotional-and-cognitive-mechanisms-behind-nostalgic-feelings

• Beth Ashley (2024) Dating culture has become selfish. How do we fix it?

https://mashable.com/article/selfish-dating-app-culture?test_uuid=003aGE6xTMbhuvdzpnH5X4Q&test_variant=b

Drunkorexia: Why we are SICK for a good time

'Mum, I've been sick' you utter as you stand in your parents' doorway, like a Calpol riddled junkie, itching for your next score of the pink stuff. You feel like death warmed up and lament on halcyon days when you weren't chucking yer guts up (and swear you'll never take the feeling of good health for granted again). Because being sick when you're 8 isn't glamorous, its not brat, its not a tally on your uni kitchen wall's chunder chart- its just your body being sick and trying to purge the bug. Vomiting is gross.

Gonna start using Calpol as a mixer xx

But then you grow a couple inches taller, discover the devil drink, and with the bottle in hand, sick takes on a different meaning. Suddenly, after years of trying to speed up the growing up process, you are given full grace to act like a child again. You can get drunk! With that, you have a free pass to be stupid and playful and all things child-like. You play (drinking) games where silly behaviour is mandatory, suddenly your default sound levels revert back to those of screaming and shouting, your capacity for social interactions are stunted to the level of a small child, and most importantly, its the one time in your adult life where being sick, is completely normal. 

Being sick on a night out is a sign of a good time. It's a funny story to tell. Sometimes it’s even an important part of the night out strategy (who hasn't taccy chunded in a mission to continue the night out!?) But, there's a sinister side underpinning the big night out sickness.. 

I recently came across the term 'drunkorexia' when I was doom scrolling on Instagram. @theeatingdisordernutritionist outlines it as a non-clinical term, describing using alcohol either instead of food, or as an aid to eating. Examples of associated behaviour include:

• Eating less food before a night out so more alcohol calories can be consumed later on

• Compulsive and/or excessive exercise before or after drinking to make allowances for the 'excess' calories consumed

• Binge drinking to bring about vomiting and expel the calories consumed

Shocking and bleak as it was to read, it also unfortunately rang true.

So why is there such a complex relationship between drinking and body image?

I have countless stories from myself and peers that demonstrate 'drunkorexic' behaviour. From those listed above, to drinking less to maintain self-control when tempted to eat 'drunk food', or getting so drunk that you're out for the count the next day and consequentially miss meals- it's all in the handbook! In my uni days (where the expected uni drinking culture coincided with the covid-19 lockdown), we were essentially house-bound and drinking 3-4 times a week- which only magnified these behaviours. My hangxiety fed off the guilt-riddled, self-scrutiny that I internalised after the one day on, one day off conveyor belt of eating and drinking. With that came a whole wave of horrible internal monologues and unhealthy habits.

Whether we were consciously doing so or not is another story, but this worrying phenomena highlights just how complicit we are in normalising body dysmorphia. There are buckets of excuses and attempts to normalise such behaviours that make this even more insidious. Even if we claimed that such behaviours were all part of a 'maximise the night out' game plan strategy (eg, eat less, so we can get drunk quicker, be sick so we can carry on the fun), there was typically a +1, ulterior motive. 

If it was a supermarket deal, it would be a 3 for the price of 2 job: get drunk quicker, have a cheaper night out and vitally, get the skinny feeling for free! Because, after everything, skinny remains our highest priority.  And the few times, myself or friends would get blackout and end up facing the barrel of a toilet bowl or a bucket, we would confess (tail between our legs) that, yes that was gross, but God do I feel skinny now that I've chucked my guts up! 
These habits that we take as part and parcel of drinking culture, perpetuate and reward eating disorder behaviours. It's a glamorised purge, disguised under the guise of being a 365 party girl.

Thinness... 💫everywhere💫

Then there's all the other shit in the mix that continue to praise thinness, whilst perpetuating a weird relationship with alcohol: from recent social media trends such as the 75 Hard challenge (that sees partakers go tee-total and partake in intensive work out regimes instead), the 'clean-girl' aesthetic, and the rise of 'heroin-chic' and 'indie-sleaze' fashions that glamorise the 90s supermodel diet of chain-smoking, binge-drinking and the skinny frame to match it.

The more we unpick at the complicit thread between drinking and disordered eating, the more we become aware of its presence, hiding in shady corners and lurking in the patchwork of 2025's day-to-day culture. And if you're someone who already has a dodgy relationship with food and body image, then these things we do in the name of liquid gold can lead to a slippery, sloshed up slope. But by recognising and addressing these unhealthy behaviours, we are given the opportunity to help ourselves. We do not have to diminish those real, underlying struggles by brushing it off as ‘just something we do for drinking culture’. Understanding what is normal and what’s actually disordered, will help us obtain a better, healthier relationship with alcohol and ourselves.

The Vodka lime soda phenomenon:

How drinking culture is inherently gendered 

Vodka lime soda and hard seltzers have become some of 2025’s most popular drinks due to their low-cal, low-carb status, ‘skinny’ status. I’ll never forget watching an episode of Made in Chelsea, when Verity (name says it all) proudly beams she only drinks “vodka lime soda” because “I’m a skinny girl”. What could have been a culturally nuanced, piss-taking quip, just came across as a smug, self-satisfied comment when said by someone who is un-coincidentally white, middle-upper class and in her early twenties, on a television show that appeals to a predominantly young female audience. We have become so obsessed with box filling, that now even our drink choices are gendered and classified. 

Emily Nicholls' fascinating academic essay, Doing Femininity through Drink Choice on the Girls’ Night Out (Nicholls, 2016) found that gender ideologies and stereotypes are deeply entrenched in drinking culture. We tend to attribute gender characteristics to the drink in which best represents them, i.e. cocktails and flutes of champagne are the 'girly' drink of choice because they are physically attractive, small, delicate and more palatable- aka everything we are taught a woman should be. Whilst pints are associated with male culture; their large volume, the associated practice of chugging and drinking to get drunk and bolshy behaviour- it's everything we deem appropriately masculine.

Women are aware of the baggage that their drink choice comes with, and may often base their consumption choices on how likely they are to risk the disruption of gender expectations and how they are perceived (Nicholls, 2016). Therefore, when we add concerns about body image and the male gaze into the mix, it makes sense that women might go for the 'lighter' alternative. Whilst drink companies continue to prey on women's body insecurities by feminising their products and emphasising low-cal, 'skinny' options in the name of 'femvertising' (IAS, 2019) its no surprise that alcoholic consumption is entrenched with body politics.

Split the G hen!

Historically, the patriarchy has been keen to uphold such ideas; illustrated by drinking and the spaces associated with it, namely pubs. These were spheres traditionally reserved for pint-drinking working men, whilst women were encouraged to stay away and socialise in their domestic sphere, reinforcing gender roles and preserving inequalities (Connolly, 2021)
As suggested by Elias (2009), shifts in gendered drinking habits mirror the changing gender dynamics happening at that time in society. So yes, whilst we'll give feminism its flowers and acknowledge that gender disparities are slowly improving, we still refuse to budge when it comes to the complicit relationship between body image and drinking culture. 

It all feels connected to me. 

We are happy to get drunk, as long as we punish ourselves in other ways. Otherwise, it’s best to go sober (or at least purge the alcohol from our body if we do drink). We can't even go out for a few drinks now, without punishing ourselves. 

In an Ozempic world, where being snatched and getting thin remains femininity's ultimate prize, we owe it to ourselves to call it what it is: indoctrination. The longer we keep normalising these behaviours, and gift-wrapping unhealthy food and body relationships under excuses, game-plans and a sick bucket, the longer we remain complicit. Complicit in normalising disordered eating. Complicit in perpetuating the leading killer of all mental illnesses (Oak Health Foundation, 2025).

Do it for you and your mates' future selves- the ones who would much rather reminisce about those stupid nights out, 5am bedtimes and memories that become the glue of a friendship group. 

I'll have one of your manliest pints please and a skinny-frapalapafucked up for the missus. Mwah!

(lil disclaimer: <3

 not that anyone really reads this silly little blog, but I feel the need to say this:
if you are struggling with disordered eating and/or body dysmorphia, then please take care reading this blog. I would never want it to trigger or give ideas to anyone, and I am definitely not trying to glamorise eating disorders or thinness. Nor am I trying to shame anyone of any body type. It's all love baby). xx

There is support available:

0808 801 0677

help@beateatingdisorders.org.uk

References used:

@theeatingdisordernutritionist 

https://www.instagram.com/p/DLDN335scQ3/?hl=en&img_index=1

Emily Nicholls (2016): 

https://www.researchgate.net/publication/298711745_'What_on_earth_is_she_drinking'_Doing_femininity_through_drink_choice_on_the_girls'_night_out

IAS (2019):

https://www.ias.org.uk/2019/10/16/its-time-to-call-time-on-the-use-of-gender-stereotypes-in-alcohol-marketing/

John Connolly (2021):

https://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/full/10.1111/1468-4446.12903

Norbert Elias (2009):

https://pure.ulster.ac.uk/en/publications/revisiting-relations-between-the-sexes-in-sport-on-the-island-of--3

Oak Health Foundation (2025):

https://www.oakhealthfoundation.org/why-eating-disorders-are-the-deadliest-mental-health-condition/