If you’re looking for a place by the sea that pretends to be a mixture of San Francisco and France, you’ve come to the right place.
Brighton has the truly unique and incredible selling point of being home to pockets of easy-to-identify clans. I won’t bore you with details of the homeless crack beggars (you can find these across the UK) or the chavs (these too are native to our isles and are not unusual). Instead, I will focus on the two main annoyances of Brighton.
These people come from England or Europe. They are generally aged under 35 and spend their time cycling around and pretending to work when in fact, they just get given money from their parents to exist. Sometimes they go on the dole, it gives them a bit of street cred and their money gets topped up by mum and dad anyway. They never leave Brighton town centre and they are completely obsessed with how wonderful Brighton is and in particular their amazing contribution to making Brighton so f*cking wonderful.
The faux golden oldies
This is what the trustafarians graduate to, w*nkers in their forties who haven’t really done much in life but use their parents money to buy huge f*ck off flats in Brighton town centre. Usually you will find that they look back on their younger years as if they made it (as a musician, an artist, a club promoter, anyone really) – in actual fact, they never really were anyone to begin with.
These twats try and live a green lifestyle while living in one of Britain’s biggest consumerist hubs. They will buy organic handcrafted bars of shampoo to help save the planet, but will use Veet for hair removal, aka chemicals they wash down the drains and straight out to the beach. They will wring their hands over climate change and global warming, but book tickets to India and consume vast amount of cocaine. They will be absolutely appalled at the migrant situation, but they won’t offer one of their many spare rooms to a refugee, and they will step over Brighton’s own homeless people. They will be scathing about the Tories, but will have gone to a private school themselves, and will be completely oblivious to the fact that the only reason they aren’t living in a council basement bedsit is because they were privileged enough to be born wealthy – aka while they may not agree with the Tory line in principle, their very lives are structured according to the Tory model of birth rather than effort dictating your fate.
Brighton is beautiful in terms of architecture and position between the sea and south downs, but you’ll soon find that the two groups I mention above will end up wearing you down through the sheer hypocrisy of their lifestyles and the knock on effect it has on the town (in terms of nightlife and house prices).