Queueing, a quintessentially British pastime, is being reimagined as a social activity, with long lines for artisan bakeries, pizza joints and even baked potato spots becoming a cultural phenomenon. A New York Times reporter queued for an hour for frozen yoghurt, describing a sense of camaraderie akin to fellow delayed flight passengers, despite the yoghurt not being worth the wait. In the UK, viral food spots have turned queues into attractions, with some seeing them as rare communal spaces in an increasingly isolated society.
However, this rebranding has critics. The trend excludes those who cannot stand for long periods, and some see it as a worrying precursor to food shortages reminiscent of wartime propaganda. In York, where queues were once limited to tourist attractions like the Jorvik Viking Centre, locals now line up at brunch spots and bakeries. The Wimbledon Queue even has a downloadable code of conduct, highlighting how queues have become events in themselves.
Social media fuels the trend, with influencer enthusiasm and manufactured scarcity making long lines desirable. Yet, some argue queues are a low-pressure way to socialise, fitting into a broader shift towards 'soft socialising' like admin nights. Co-owner of Toad bakery in Camberwell called their queue 'a rare communal thing', while writer Lauren O'Neill described bakery queues as places to arrange meet-ups.
But the glorification of queues raises uncomfortable questions. With cuts closing libraries, youth clubs and leisure centres, are queues filling a void created by austerity? The same patience demanded for a pain au chocolat is now required at GP surgeries, NHS dentists and A&E, where people queue from 5am. As one article noted, 'the queue's glow-up has echoes of wartime propaganda, as if we're gently prepping ourselves for worse things ahead'.
