1. The north Londoner
It’s as if north London was built specifically to keep all the goths and people who work in media and advertising away from the rest of the city. That’s something to be thankful for. But it also means that north London is a micro-nation of 40-year-old man-children in New Balance trainers who think they’re edgy because they once took half a pill while listening to the Happy Mondays. Just imagine how delightful Hampstead Heath would be if it wasn’t filled with people in kaftans talking about catchment areas and juice cleanses.
2. The south Londoner
South Londoners know that where they live is a miserable, art student-infested boggy wasteland with terrible transport links (’20 minutes from London Bridge! Brill!’), but they just can’t bear to admit it. So they hold it all in, twisting all of that anger into a vicious knot of resentment. They live in constant fear that they might let slip what they really think: they actually wish they lived in east London! Look at it this way: if south London is so great, why is its best bar in a car park?
3. The east Londoner
East London doesn’t even know that it’s become all the worst bits of west London. All the gritty pub venues, scuzzy nightclubs and dirt-cheap eateries were replaced YEARS ago with Antipodean coffee emporiums and bars where your feet inexplicably don’t stick to the floor. There’s nothing wrong with that, but residents insist that they definitely don’t live in London’s new Notting Hill. They’re oblivious to the fact that if you were going to make a film about dumb twentysomethings with too much money and stupid haircuts, you’d do it in Dalston.
4. The west Londoner
West London is lovely: leafy avenues, picture-perfect museums, beautiful parks. It’s only ruined by one thing – people. The adults are either privileged to the point of insanity or sad, withered husks, drained of life and humour by having their comparative poverty constantly shoved in their faces because they live near the lords and ladies of Kensington, Chelsea and Clapham (yeah, suck it, that’s west London too). It’s heaven for the Tabithas and Hugos of the world – but for any sensible human, it’s just a money vacuum filled with naff pubs, Chelsea fans, Australians and white dudes with dreadlocks who think bongos are okay. They aren’t.
5. The greater Londoner
In they swoop on the 7.30am train from some bucolic fastness in Zone 25. Greater Londoners get all the good bits of London – the pubs, the restaurants, the ‘atmos’, but then they get to go home to some idyllic smugland in the back of beyond that they are convinced still counts as London. And don’t even think about going to the pub with a Greater Londoner. ‘Your round, Dave.’ ‘Sorry, maaate, gotta get the last train back to Twattinghamshire.’ Well screw you, Dave. Screw you.
By Eddy Frankel, who’s KIDDING, okay! Relax!
Take a look at the top five proud London boasts.